#I used about an hour or so to finish packing and cleaning my room | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seren1tyhaze · 2 years ago

Text

Dive

PAIRING: doyoung x afab reader (ft djj)

WORD COUNT: 8.9k (got a bit carried away)

SUMMARY: your best friend drags you out to a club to be her wingwoman as she meets back up with a stunning stranger and you cross paths with the hottest man you've ever seen in an expensive suit and a cross around his neck

THANK YOU: @strwbrysunday you know how important you've been in getting this across the finish line and you're a literal angel. thank you so much <3 thank you to all my friends who watched me brainrot over this over the past week and inspiring me to keep working on it with your positive words.

WARNINGS: explicit smut, smoking, drinking, drug reference, profanity, heavy religious imagery in a sexual setting (and I mean HEAVY - so if this is going to bother you, this isn't the fic for you)

PLAYLIST: Dive by DoJaeJung, Angel by NCT 127

This was clearly inspired by the Doyoung D&G promo images with the rosary and the rest was history...

I can dive, I'm diving into you

—

Ouch. You pinch your eyelash with the curler as you lean in closer to the glassy mirror in your best friend’s bathroom. You knew you should be wearing your contacts but had forgotten them at home and you weren’t going to hear the end of it from her if that was the excuse you had for ditching her for the night.

It had been an exhausting week at work but somehow your adorable firecracker of a platonic soulmate since childhood had dragged you to her apartment as soon as the clock hit 5:00PM in the co-working space your small start-up you both worked for shared with some other local environmental companies.

She had shed off her casual work clothes hours before, now wearing a glittery black dress, hugging her hips tightly, strings ruched up the side revealing plenty of thigh, covered with nude fishnets. You envied her long and bouncy locks that flowed down her back, reaching up to touch your straight hair that never cooperated with the curling iron.

“What is it?” she asked from behind you, catching you staring.

“Is there something on my dress?” she spun around, craning her head to look at her own ass in the mirror.

You started to speak before you realized she was showing off, dropping to the floor quickly before slowly standing again, shimmying her rear as she started to sway to the faint music coming from her living room.

You rolled your eyes with a huff, curling your other eye’s lashes and applying a few coats of mascara.

“Loosen up, angel,” she called back as she moved into her walk-in closet to select her shoes and handbag, using her pet name she had been calling you for years.

You finished up the rest of your makeup, cleaning up the little pile of products and packing them back neatly in their small pouch before examining yourself in the mirror. Your dark hair fell almost to your shoulders, eyes accentuated with smudged dark liner and cheekbones dusted with a bright coral blush that complimented the glossy color across your lips. You had let your best friend convince you to dress up more than you usually did, since she said the club you were going to tended to cater to a more affluent clientele.

A skin tight white leather crop top pushed your breasts up nicely and you had even let your friend dust some shimmering glitter across them with a large puff earlier. You smoothed the matching devastatingly short skirt and adjusted the lace up black boots that travelled up your long legs and over your knee. You felt confident in the outfit and only slightly uneasy about the night ahead. Your friend had a tendency to scan for her prey of the night the minute you entered a venue and often spent the night locking lips with half the dance floor or as she did the weekend before, dancing on stage with the burlesque dancers at the late night speakeasy.

Standing next to her as you both did final checks in the mirror, you looked like the moonlight and sunlight, night and day, devil and angel. A dangerous pair for any person to come across in a crowded club with these outfits, to say the least. You giggled as your friend planted a glossy kiss to your ear before pushing your hair back into place, following her out of the spacious apartment.

“WOO!” shrieked your friend, waving long fingernails at a tall, slender man leaning against a private booth tucked near the DJ. A warm grin spread across his plush lips and you couldn’t help it when your heart jumped a little in your chest. How your friend always found the most attractive people to surround herself always surprised you (not like you were complaining).

She had met Jungwoo the weekend before at a rave and had gabbed your ear off about the attractive and rich heir to a fortune who lived downtown in the middle of all the weekend excitement and had fed her drinks all night long while clutching onto her hips as they danced. She hadn’t gone home with him but instead had gotten his number and promised to meet him out the next weekend. The next weekend was now and out the two of you were.

Jungwoo was absolutely stunning, bright white hair damp, long, and hanging around his cheeks and across his forehead. He wore a sheer blouse unbuttoned halfway, exposing much of his toned chest and loose grey slacks that didn’t leave much to the imagination when he moved.

Taking careful steps through the crowd, you followed your friend who now had her hand held close to the lips of another man, this one dressed in the remains of an expensive suit, tie loose and sloppy around his neck with several buttons of a crisp pale blue shirt undone. He had dark hair slicked back to reveal his stunning face and his eyes glittered when he pulled them to yours to greet you.

“This is Jaehyun, Jungwoo’s roommate!” she giggled, a glass of champagne somehow already in her hand as she grinned at Jaehyun’s tender kiss to the back of her hand.

“Lovely to meet you, girls,” Jaehyun spoke deep and smoothly, his voice like velvet.

You cleared your throat with a small smile and shifted your weight in the uncomfortable shoes, eyes darting past the two men in front of you to a third seated in the booth.

Goosebumps instantly dotted your bare arms as you raked your eyes over one of the most attractive men you had ever seen. Even seated, you could tell he was tall with a broad frame. His hand was stretched out across his knee, high end designer fabric covering every inch of his body.

As if in slow motion, he lifted his head from his phone, placing it next to him to take a long sip from the short glass of dark liquid on the table in front of him. He brought his dark eyes up to meet yours and as soon as you made contact you watched his adam’s apple move in his throat, gulping as he peeled his eyes down your body.

You moved a hand to grip your other forearm, suddenly self conscious but equally intrigued, cocking your head slightly to the side. Your vision blurred briefly and you cursed yourself for not remembering your contacts as your loss of focus refused to let you make out the expression on the mystery man’s face.

“Doie - don’t be rude, say hi!” Jungwoo slurred out, taking a strong hand to the small of your back to guide you into the booth and directly next to Doyoung.

“Hi,” he spoke, quiet and soft, pulling his hand off his knee to extend a handshake to you.

You chuckled lightly and let him shake your hand, taking a moment to inspect him further now that you could see him better.

The white collared shirt under his suit jacket was tight (almost too tight) with the top buttons straining against the fabric enclosure. He had a soft jaw and plump lips, dark hair styled in a way that was kept but still messy in a sexy way. When he smiled his eyes crinkled in the corners and his neutral facial expression was hard to read when he wasn’t speaking.

You let your eyes wander down to his tight pants before shaking your head, begging your dirty mind to control itself. It hadn’t been that long since you had hooked up with a stranger at a bar but long enough to let your mind wander within minutes of meeting this man.

Doyoung reached across the table to pour you a glass of champagne from the bottle in the ice bucket and as he did, you noticed a glimmering chain around his neck. As he leaned further, you saw the small black beads on the chain catching the light and much to your surprise, a cross slipped into view briefly.

You sucked in a deep inhale at the sight - this man was wearing a fucking rosary around his neck.

Flashes of hours kneeling for Easter vigil mass, heavy clouds of incense in your face as you held the thurible in a floor length white robe, dark smudges on your forehead, and getting tipsy off communion wine in the church basement with your cousins flew across your mind as you watched him laugh at something Jaehyun said.

Jungwoo swore loudly as he dripped tequila across the table, attempting to pour five shots evenly. You can’t pull your eyes away from Doyoung, watching as he bows his head lightly, wincing ever so slightly at the curse words.

Who the fuck is this guy?

Taking a long drink from your champagne glass and tossing back the shot that is handed to you, you reach into your bag and dig out a carton of cigarettes, pulling the ashtray at the center of the table closer to you.

Pulling a loose stick with your lips, you instinctively gesture towards Doyoung who moves a hand quickly to decline. You shrug and move a bit closer to Jungwoo who is taking a long drag from a neon green vape. He chuckles and tosses his hair from his eyes as he watches the interaction.

“You’re better off making moves on Jae,” he says to you on his exhale. He tosses an arm around your shoulder, nudging your bare shoulder lightly with his thumb, cocking his chin up to draw your attention to a smiley Jaehyun swaying to the music, slightly off beat, as your friend tries to get him to salsa dance with her.

“Doyoung is a little more on the conservative side. Doesn’t smoke, doesn’t like getting high, barely gets drunk, takes his grandma to church on Sundays, all that,” Jungwoo adds, giving you a softer smile as he pulls your eyes into contact with his.

You narrow your own eyes slightly, not sure if this is some twisted attempt at reverse psychology to push you even more into the arms of his friend. While he was wearing the rosary, that didn’t necessarily scream “priest”. He was in a high end club’s most desirable VIP booth, surrounded by drinks and other substances, with two party boys that looked like models.

“Well he’s taken every shot that’s been poured for him, so I don’t know about that ‘not getting drunk’ part,” you quip back, taking a long drag from your cigarette and blowing it behind you through tightly pursed lips, intentionally avoiding Doyoung’s direction.

“Yeah he and Jaehyun lost some big account today, I think he’s just blowing off some steam. Plus he owes me,” Jungwoo winks as punctuation, making it apparent that he wasn’t going to elaborate on the end of that statement.

Throughout the night you learn that Doyoung and Jaehyun work at a big investment bank, Jaehyun sharing a small apartment with Jungwoo in the middle of all the city nightlife, the three of them having known each other since they were kids. Doyoung seemed to have never moved on from their strong faith-based formative years, holding onto these ideals even years later and still an active member of his family’s church community. When he checks the time on his phone you see the smiling face of an older woman pushed up against his, assuming this to be the grandmother Jungwoo mentioned before.

He’s quiet as you chat with him, having to do most of the talking, but is kind and puts some of your nerves at ease even when your friend is off in the middle of the dance floor doing god knows what with god knows who.

Despite his reserved nature, you feel his eyes trained on your every move, following your lips and hands as you smoke another cigarette, the way you cross and uncross your legs with ease, despite the short skirt that has a tendency to ride up when you wiggle in your seat.

You watch him in the same way he watches you, the way his hair falls into his eyes every once and a while and instead of pushing it away with his hand, he shakes his head lightly, flicking his eyes up as if to chastise the loose strands. When he leans forward to take a sip of his drink or gesture to the waitress, his toned chest is exposed by the undone buttons on his shirt.

As much as you hate to admit it, his very presence is intoxicating and it’s affecting you more than you would like. Goosebumps crop up on your arms and you suddenly feel chilled in the warm room, sending a shiver down your spine.

A loud laugh draws your attention across the booth and you are met with the sight of your friend feverishly making out with Jaehyun, sandwiched between him and Jungwoo who has his hand up the hem of her dress, laughing into her neck.

You whip your head back towards Doyoung, giving an awkward smile to him before the chill sets over you again. You train your gaze downwards, examining the patterned carpet on the floor and the laces on your thigh high boots, picking at the edge of the string. You startle at the feeling of fabric being draped over your shoulders, looking up to see that Doyoung has placed his suit jacket around your shoulders.

He keeps his arm wrapped around your shoulder after placing the jacket and you suddenly feel an additional set of eyes on you as you lift up to meet Jaehyun’s gaze. He’s staring at your slightly spread legs, running a wicked tongue across his bottom lip as it quirks up into a wry smile.

You feel Doyoung’s grip around your shoulder tighten and turn to see his face close to yours, your heart jumping in your chest when you feel his breath across your cheek. You can’t bear to break eye contact with him, despite the fact that you desperately wish you could see Jaehyun’s reaction.

“You seemed cold,” he murmurs to you, lips almost brushing across your skin as he speaks close to your ear. He smells delicious, like soft musk but still clean and warm. You mentally take note to slyly ask Jungwoo what cologne his friend wears.

“Thank you,” is all you can muster and you resist the urge to drop your head to his shoulder, suddenly feeling lightheaded in the haze of alcohol, nicotine, and the blaring music of the club.

Doyoung reaches to the table for his glass, arm never leaving your shoulder, rolled shirt sleeve revealing a large and intricate cross tattoo on his forearm. At the sight of the ink you are jolted back to the reality that this man is not who you want him to be. You would normally have a hand palming his groin in the dim lights of the club, moaning into his mouth as he gripped the exposed skin on your back and whispered filthy strings of words into your ear.

But no, you had to bag the “Holier than Thou, Man of God.” Of course you did. This was not going to be good for your libido.

Your friend is suddenly dragging you by the hand to the bathroom, moving surprisingly fast in her towering heels.

“Sooooooooo, angel,” she whines from the single use stall she pulled you into after locking the door.

“What are you about to ask me to do?” you sigh, fixing your hair in the mirror as your friend hikes up her dress to pee.

“I’m going to take those two home with me,” she bluntly tells you, as you predicted.

“Yeah I think anyone in this club could have told me that,” you reply, rolling your eyes for dramatic effect. You didn’t really care what she did, only frustrated now that you had to make the hike home in an expensive taxi or wait for the unreliable train service.

“It’s fine, babe, I’ll get home okay,” you add, mustering the sweetest tone you can for your oldest friend. She deserved to blow off steam as much as next person, but you loved staying over at her luxury apartment on the weekends and the lazy mornings you spent sipping homemade cappuccinos and doing face masks.

“You’re the BESTTTT!” she nearly shouts, throwing her arms around you, damp hands fresh from washing them in the sink getting your skin wet. You laugh at her, congratulating her on getting her dick wet and ushering her out of the small room with a smack to her ass.

Back at the booth she wastes no time murmuring in the ears of the two eager men before they share a steamy three way kiss that results in Jungwoo tugging Jaehyun’s bottom lip with his teeth, looping an arm around his slim waist.

You are flicking through the various ride share apps on your phone to find the cheapest option, boots feeling uncomfortably tight on your feet after a long night. Last thing you want to do in this outfit is sit on an empty train and make the long walk uphill to your apartment complex once you arrive at your stop.

“What are you doing?” Doyoung asks, face suddenly close to yours again. There’s a level of concern in his eyes that you cannot read when he speaks to you.

“Calling for a car home, I don’t have the luxury of living right here downtown and had plans to crash at hers. I’m assuming my job doesn’t pay as well as yours and Jae’s,” you reply, only lifting your eyes up to meet his after you’ve spoken.

God his eyes are so pretty.

“Why don’t you stay at mine, I can sleep on the couch and my driver can take you home in the morning,” he offers, picking your phone out of your hand and locking the screen.

You open your mouth in protest before thinking more on the offer. His driver?! You would be crazy to turn him down and your friend is already halfway out the door headed towards what will undoubtedly be a night to remember.

You nod and quickly stand, holding a hand out for his, guiding him out the back door of the club. He’s making a call on his phone in a hushed tone while you slide your long coat over his blazer, still wrapped around your shoulders, Jungwoo giving you a small smile and wiggle of his fingers as he slides into the back of a cab.

“I love you angellllll,” your friend slurs out dramatically, knowing she is far less drunk than she appears, playing up the antics for the men around her. Jaehyun has an arm tucked loosely around her waist, grinning ear to ear as the evening wind ruffles his dark hair.

You pull your friend in for a hug before she ducks into the car, latching her lips immediately onto Jungwoo’s exposed neck, drawing a chuckle from you on the street.

Jaehyun pauses before getting in the car, dipping down to whisper right along the shell of your ear.

“Angel is it? I don’t know about that,” he practically moans out, voice breathy and deep.

“Seemed like a devil in disguise in that tight little skirt, slutty legs spread in the club for our sweet and innocent Doie,” he laughs out, laying the degrading tone on thick. His finger is under your chin, tipping it up to force you to look at him. Your heart is pounding and flying around your chest and you can feel your cheeks burn.

Suddenly there’s a hand on your back and you don’t have to look to know that Doyoung has stepped up behind you.

Jaehyun gives you a wink, pushing past you to plant a lingering kiss on Doyoung’s cheek, before turning and disappearing into the car.

Before you can say anything to Doyoung, a black town car replaces the cab in its spot on the busy street, Doyoung moving quickly to open the door for you, helping you in with a strong hand. He closes the door softly before moving around to the street side to slide in next to you, greeting the driver in the front pleasantly.

Your head is spinning and you desperately hope there is time to have a cigarette before going upstairs to Doyoung’s apartment, feeling anxiety creeping up in your chest.

Despite the spacious backseat, Doyoung can’t help but be pressed up against you, twisting to look at you as you make small talk. You watch him when he answers questions you ask and listen to a small story about a frustrating email exchange at work, as if the two of you had known each other forever.

Distracted by the beaded chain around his neck again, you reach over, taking the cross gingerly in between your pointer and middle finger, inspecting it. The metal is cold in your hand and nostalgia rushes over you as you hold it in your hand.

“I dip it in holy water every morning to help keep me grounded and ask that God bless my daily travels,” he offers, smiling lightly at you as he explains in earnest. You know by now that he isn’t lying, that there would be no reason for him to.

“I kiss it as well, asking him to bless my words and calm my mind in a world filled with temptation,” he continues, unwilling to break the heavy eye contact.

He reaches out and draws your fingers to his lips, still holding the cross, and kisses the small metal piece, catching the tips of your fingers with soft lips. They are warm and plush, sending jolts of electricity through your hand and to your chest. You have to shift in your seat to calm the throbbing in your core. This gesture shouldn’t be turning you on this much and you know now that if there is a hell, you surely are destined to take residence there.

The tension in the car is thick as you shiver, hand moving before you have a chance to think, bringing his hand and yours to your own lips, copying his kiss. You watch him gulp and pull his bottom lip in between his teeth as his eyes darken at the sight of the cross pressed to your lips.

Oh you are so royally fucked.

You watch him as he absently brushes the back of his hand against your own in the elevator ride to the top floor of the sleek and modern building. He lets his fingers tangle with yours briefly before holding his hand out when the door starts to open, bringing the foyer of his apartment into view.

You let a gasp fall from your lips, taking in the beautiful space around you. Lights flick on as you reach down to release the knot holding the laces of your boots in place, stepping out of them carefully by steadying yourself on a small table adorned with realistic looking fake flowers.

You try to keep your boots tidy under the coat rack, slipping off your coat and hanging it up and checking yourself in the small mirror above hooks of dangling keys. You notice one key with a Kuromi cover, smiling lightly and wondering if he had picked that out for himself. He will tell you one day that it is the key to his mailbox and one of the kids from his Sunday school class brought it in for him after they said Kuromi reminded them of Doyoung.

You follow him to the open living area which melts into the compact kitchen adorned with granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. He’s opening the door to the fridge, pulling out a pitcher of water and pouring two glasses.

The apartment is warm but minimalistic in style, adorned with shades of cream, black and gray. You half expect to see a statue of Mary where the tv sits but there’s barely any religious imagery present. Maybe you had misjudged him after all.

As you close the space between you, you let his blazer slip from your shoulders, catching it and folding it gently in your hands, looking up towards him through your long lashes as you lean your hip against the cold edge of the counter, offering the blazer to him. Instead of taking the jacket from your hands, he leans forward, brushing a thumb across the high point of your cheek, examining your face.

“Let me know if there is anything I can get you to feel more at home, I want you to feel comfortable,” he murmurs, eyes flicking down briefly to your lips before meeting your gaze again.

You feel butterflies in your chest and despite how tired you know you should be, your heart is pounding and core tightening at how close he stands to you in his beautiful apartment, finally able to hear his voice clearly without the sounds of the club or busy streets of the city. It’s velvety smooth and even and his lips tip up at the edges when he finishes his kind statement. You want desperately to push up and capture them in yours but instead nod slowly, taking one of the glasses of water into your hand gulping down some of the cool liquid to try to quell the arousal building within you.

He brushes your skin with his thumb once more before taking the jacket from you, moving to his bedroom and returning moments later with a couple pillows and a large blanket, which he leaves on the plush couch.

“I don’t mind just sleeping out here,” you offer, scanning the comfortable looking room, knowing if you slept in the living room you might be able to more easily slip out unnoticed in the morning. You’ve never been one for tender mornings in bed with a one night stand and this situation shouldn’t be treated any different. You don’t believe he will actually make any move beyond what he has, despite the brief intimate moments you’ve shared since stepping out of the club.

“No no, I insist, take my bed. The bedding was just changed this morning,” he makes sure to note and you realize how rich this man truly must be if he avoided mentioning who exactly changed the sheets. Surely not Doyoung, with his thousands of dollars of clothing and jewelry on his body and on-call car service and penthouse suite.

He moves to open the door to the balcony, cool but comfortable night air flooding the living room as he hands you a vintage glass ashtray from the media cabinet.

“In case you need one before you go to sleep or in the night,” he offers, smiling lightly at the shocked look on your face.

“Jungwoo is always hanging around here when I’m working late and I’ve learned there is no way to stop people from doing something they want to do. I can’t change my friends and I wouldn’t want to. I have things in my life and things I have removed from my life but that is my own decision and shouldn’t affect my relationships with those I love,” he adds, fingers brushing over yours as they make contact to pass the item to you.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll take a shower quickly and then let you have the bedroom and bathroom. If you need it, there’s a toilet near the elevator and some fresh fruit in the fridge,” he continues, resisting the urge to brush his lips over your bare shoulder.

You thank him and take your purse out to the balcony, closing the door lightly behind you but making sure it latches fully. Stepping forward towards the edge of the balcony, you quickly light a cigarette and feel calm wash over you as you watch the flickering lights of the city skyline. The cool air feels good against your cheeks and exposed abdomen, needing desperately to cool down. You try (and fail) to not let your mind wander to thoughts of Doyoung in a steamy rainfall shower, steam gathering on glossy mirrors and hot water racing down toned biceps and thighs.

You burn through it eagerly, extinguishing the cigarette in the ashtray and disposing of it in a small bin attached to the balcony’s railing before heading back inside. Doyoung is emerging from his bedroom in a tight white tank top and loose grey sweatpants, bare feet padding across the plush throw rug.

“I left you some clothes and towels on the bed but help yourself to my closet if you need something warmer,” he mutters awkwardly, the power balance shifting slightly as he stands in front of you in casual clothes, black rosary still visible proudly on his chest.

“I’ll wash up, if that’s okay? If you’re tired and want to sleep, don’t worry about waiting for me to finish. I usually stay up pretty late and I’m sure you have early mornings,” you ramble, scratching at the back of your neck, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Take your time, I usually read for a while before bed,” he gestures to a small leather bound bible on the coffee table. Of course he does.

In the shower, you let the water rush over your body, using some of the small skincare bottles to wash your face and step out, massaging shower oil into your damp skin. You sigh into the warm white towel fresh off the warming rack and feel like you’re living in a dream.

Can’t I just stay here forever?

You know your modest apartment waits for you a few miles away, with your own much smaller and dingier balcony where you like to sketch in your journal as you watch birds settle on the hanging flower baskets. You could never see yourself living full time in the cold of the city, barely any green space and garbage littering the streets.

Checking outside the bathroom door before emerging, the coast is clear as you step back into his spacious bedroom, lightly touching the clothing he had laid out for you. A large and faded t-shirt that appears to be from a church camp is folded neatly, logo barely still visible.

A package of unopened cotton boxer briefs is next to the shirt, knowing he must have been panicking thinking of how he could offer you something to wear without it seeming creepy. But he seems to at least have experience taking care of stranded tipsy guests (even if they usually were just Jungwoo and someone he brought home from the bar). You pull the shirt over your head and it falls easily to your mid-thigh, skimming over your hardened nipples, painful as they make contact with the cool air from the vent.

Sliding on the boxers, you pull them up to your waist and the shirt covers them fully. You decide against the sweatpants next to the shirt, knowing they will be far too long for you and opt to instead roll on the pair of long socks before placing the pants back on the dresser. You listen at the door for any noise from the living room, hearing a light hum of music you can’t decipher. Pressing your ear closer you recognize Debussy floating through the air and let out a small smile.

You’re about to tuck yourself into the king sized bed before you realize you didn’t bring the water glass in with you. Scanning the room you don’t see one and silently curse yourself.

Sliding the door open quietly, you stick your head out tentatively, his head lifting to look at you. He looks absolutely adorable, bundled up in a fluffy blanket with his small bible in his lap and two scented candles lit on the table. The music did turn out to be Debussy, playing softly on a record player in the corner.

“Is the music too loud?” he asks, moving as if he is going to turn it off.

“No no, it’s beautiful,” you breathe out in reply, sliding out from the door and covering your chest with your arms, self conscious. This causes the hem of the shirt to hike up, exposing a sliver of the white briefs covering your lower half.

Doyoung’s eyes trail down your body, as if wanting to mentally capture this image of you dressed in his clothes, standing sheepishly in front of him. He pushes away thoughts of you on your knees in front of him, mouthing along his length through his sweatpants while he tugs on your silky and damp hair.

“I, um, just came out for some water,” you add, crossing to the counter to grab the glass before returning to stand awkwardly next to the couch.

“Why does she call you angel?” he asks suddenly, pulling an arm up on the back of the couch, unintentionally opening up a perfect sized space for you to sit next to him.

You smile lightly and cross to sit next to him, perching on the edge of the cushion so as to not crowd him.

“My middle name is Angelica,” you replied softly. “She just took a liking to the pet name many years ago.”

He smiles softly at this explanation, suddenly aware that his other hand has strayed to the hem of his shirt hanging loose on your torso.

“Angel…” he tries, feeling the way it sounds in his voice, feeling the way the words taste as they roll off his tongue. He smirks, pinching the fabric at the edge of the shirt in between his fingers and releasing it.

“Can I call you that?” he breathes out, suddenly closer to your face than you had realized.

“Only if you’re a good boy,” you manage to say in an even tone, hand finally reaching out to touch his chest, flattening against his toned pecs, metal beads digging into your palm.

His eyes flutter, brain clearly short circuiting at the mention of praise, fingers stilling but breathing becoming more labored.

“Can I please kiss you?” you ask, eyes and voice hopeful. You palm the cross on the rosary, holding it tightly in your hand as you pull gently, bringing yourself closer to Doyoung as your eyes slip shut, not waiting for a response.

His lips are on yours suddenly, pressing firmly as his hand flies to your lower back, pressing you flush against his chest, capturing your hand in between your bodies. You refuse to let go of the rosary, pulling tighter so he’s forced to deepen the kiss.

You feel his hand push up the back of the shirt and up your back, as if reaching for a bra to unhook and you can’t help but smile against his mouth, knowing he is far less innocent than he seems.

You rise up on your knees, moving your legs to straddle him on the couch, suddenly feeling something firm against your bare thigh. Your grin grows, nuzzling against his nose teasingly.

“Well, well, look who isn’t such a good boy after all,” you growl out, unable to control how horny you are for this man under you.

He pulls back, breaking the kiss, brows furrowed in confusion at your comment. Reaching between your bodies, he pulls out the leather bible and you flush deeply, unable to process that you thought it was his erection.

You avert your eyes from his and reach an arm up to touch the back of your neck nervously but his hand quickly grabs your wrist as he moves your hand to his lap, eyes darkening. When he pushes you down against his sweatpants you feel him harder than you thought he would be, not to mention way bigger than you thought he would be.

“Who said I was a good boy, angel?” he asked quietly, almost sounding annoyed with you. He grips your wrist tighter, pulling you closer to him before capturing your lips in his again.

It takes you a moment to respond, brain foggy at the name and sequence of events that had just unfolded. It doesn’t take you long to recover before slipping your tongue into his mouth hungrily, fingers lacing his hair to pull him desperately close.

You can’t help but move quickly with him, spreading your thighs to grind slow circles into his clothed crotch, biting back moans that bubble in your throat.

Hands are suddenly tugging at the hem of the shirt and you quickly oblige, peeling off the thin cotton and discarding it on the floor. Your chest is heaving as you sit on his lap in just the white boxer briefs, nipples erect and back arched to push your full chest towards him.

Doyoung hungrily licks his lips, eyes darting over your body as if there’s a time limit to the amount of time he has to look. You know you look good and he knew from the minute he saw you walk in the club that you would be on his lap, tits bouncing as he pressed up towards you with an experimental thrust. A small groan slides from his spit slicked lips as he slides one hand to your lower back and the other to cup your breast.

“Good God,” he lets out before lowering his mouth to your nipple, flicking eyes up to watch as you tumble contrasting curses from your plump lips.

He moves his mouth expertly, tongue laving over the sensitive skin, teeth dragging against your tight nipple. His hand on your lower back feels huge, fingers spread wide and gripping at your flesh as if you will disappear if he loosens his grip.

“Fuck me right here,” you can’t help but mutter into his open mouth after a particularly loud gasp flies from your mouth when you feel the tip of his dick collide with your clothed clit.

He pulls back, face seemingly questioning himself, eyes flicking over to the coffee table with the bible before turning upwards and fluttering shut.

You’re amazed at how this man can have his tit in your mouth one minute and then the next…

“Wait, are you praying?!” you ask in shock, stifling the laughter that builds in your throat.

He peeks at you with one eye open, smiling lightly before closing his eyes again and humming out an incoherent reply.

“Amen,” he says softly after a few more moments have passed.

You don’t have time to question him further when he quickly pulls his shirt over his head, revealing tight and toned abs and letting his broad chest crowd you in what could only be described as a bear hug. He pulls you close to his chest and you can feel his heartbeat reverberating through your own skin.

“The angel wants to get fucked, does she?” he growls as he digs his nails into your back.

“Let’s see what we can do about that,” he adds before flipping you over suddenly, standing above you as he slides the boxers down to your ankles, leaving your socks on.

He then moves his hands to his own waistband, removing the sweatpants and revealing his hard cock, already flushed and angry with arousal. As he bends down, the rosary dangles from his neck and you can’t help but stare.

You’re laid out, exposed in front of him as he drops to his knees, nudging your knees to widen in front of him. Your eyes are wide as you watch him, controlling and calculated. You have to ask yourself the same question you asked in the club, who the fuck was this guy?

“You asked if I was praying earlier,” he speaks quietly, long fingers dragging along your sensitive inner thigh, avoiding where you want him the most.

“I just like to thank God before I eat,” he adds, eyes glimmering with mischief as he pushes forward, tongue licking a long stripe along your dripping core, sending shockwaves throughout your body.

Your brain is swimming with pleasure at the filthy words he spoke and the way his mouth is warm against your burning core, tugging on his hair and slipping your hand down to his neck to stroke the shorter strands there to encourage him.

His muffled moans send vibrations along your folds and shivers up your spine as he laps at you like it’s the fucking last supper. You feel your release close, thighs pulling in to tighten around his face. He shoves them back open every time they threaten to suffocate him, giving him access to every inch of you.

Your orgasm creeps up on you and you are suddenly screaming his name, head thrown back on the back of the couch, vision blinding white. Your eyes are clenched shut as you make every attempt to slow your heavy breathing.

You feel warm hands under your thighs and realize he's lifting you from the couch. You let your arms fall lazily around his shoulders and your head loll over as he carries you to the bedroom. Laying you gently on your back, he’s suddenly leaning over you, lips brushing against your jaw, peppering kisses up to your ear and leaving more along your hairline.

“That was heavenly,” you sigh out, feeling dizzy from the soft gestures.

He smiles and pushes your hair from your face, leaning down to kiss you. You can’t get enough of his lips, every time they press over yours you’re drawn in closer, wanting more and more.

“I know you said you wanted me to fuck you on the couch and as much as I would love to bend you over and slam into you, I want to see your face when I make you cream on my dick,” he says as if it’s the simplest and most normal sentence on the planet. He sits up, reaching a veiny hand over to the bedside table and into the shallow drawer there.

Your mouth hangs open for a moment until you feel his fingers on you again, rubbing slow circles on you, gathering your post orgasm arousal as he tears open a condom that is carefully dangling between his lips. He slicks up his rock hard erection with your wetness before sliding it on and running a hand through his now messy hair.

You adjust yourself on the bed, propping your knees up so he can crawl between them. He brings his face close to yours and drags his tongue lazily against your lower lip before pushing into you.

Your eyes widen, feeling the stretch of his massive cock and the look on his face when he finally feels himself inside you. You swear he’s seen the second coming of Christ and you wish you could take a picture of the pure bliss.

It doesn’t take long for him to pick up a consistent pace of pumping in and out of you, grunts and moans falling from his lips and sounding almost like he’s singing. You almost come at the sight of the rosary dangling above you and moving with each thrust, knowing how fucking filthy this is but how it’s the most turned on you’ve been in ages.

He’s close and you don’t know how much longer you can last after him so you hook your legs around his back and push on him, silently begging to flip over. He obliges and lets you return to a similar position from the couch, him seated against the pillows and you rising up and down on his cock. This drives you insane, watching his face contort in pleasure as you ride him, letting his name fall over and over from your lips like your own prayer.

“Angel, I’m so close,” he moans, pulling you so tight against his chest that you feel yourself becoming one with him. You move together, moan together, and release in strangled cries together.

You pull back, out of breath and struggling to compose yourself, glancing down at your chest to see an imprint of the cross in between swollen breasts. He has a hazy, happy grin across his face and you know you have to look the same in this moment.

He reaches out, brushing pads of his fingers across the imprint on your chest before dipping down to kiss at the cross mark.

You think your heart might explode in that very moment, suddenly visualizing the two of you holding hands in a church pew or leaning over candles, lighting them and bowing your heads in silence.

What the fuck has gotten into you?

–

Once he finishes tucking the plush duvet around your naked body, he lays flat on his back, exhaling in relaxation for what sounded like the first time that night, and humming out an almost angelic note.

“And on the seventh day, God looked at all he had made and rested from the work he had done,” Doyoung paraphrased, grinning at his joke, turning slightly to nuzzle his face into your bare shoulder.

Your cheeks warmed and eyes welled as you watched your dark haired lover drift off into sleep, arms laying beside him, not clinging to you as they had been all night, as if fully relaxed at how you seemingly fit so easily into his bed, into his life.

Checking the time, you unlock your phone, lower the brightness, and fire off a couple check-in texts to your friend and one to your mother asking if you completed your sacraments as a child and if she knows where your old prayer book is. You can’t believe this man is reigniting this in you and while you know no amount of good sex is going to fully pull you back into a toxic institution, you see the good in him and wonder if there is a world where the two of you can balance his faith and your more progressive views.

The next morning comes quicker than you had anticipated and light is streaming through the sheers covering the floor to ceiling windows. You glance over to see a still sleeping Doyoung, surprised once you check the time, knowing he probably starts his day at the office before you. You check your phone, frustrated at how quickly it will soon be the time when your boss is checking in to see if you are working from home or coming into the office. You send off a quick message to let them know you will have a late start to the day, working from your apartment.

They reply with a teasing tone, noting that you and your friend must have gotten into some fun the night prior since she had called off entirely. Oh boy, couldn’t wait to hear about that.

You roll over, seeing Doyoung’s eyes open in narrow slits, running a wet tongue over his dry lips.

“Morning star,” he smiles at you, placing that same strong hand on your lower back, pulling you gently closer to him.

“Hi,” you squeak out, giggling as his fingers brush lightly over your spine, tickling you.

“Can I make you coffee?” he asks, pressing lips softly to your temple, holding there and breathing in the scent of your hair, still faintly holding the floral notes from his shampoo.

“You don’t have morning prayers to get to?” you tease, pushing your lips towards his, silently asking for a kiss.

He pulls back, knitting his brows together and almost rolling his eyes.

“You really have me all wrong you know,” he starts, pushing strands of hair from your face before cupping your cheek gently, just as he had in the kitchen last night when you first got back.

“Yes, I have my beliefs and values that ground me. But that doesn’t mean I abstain from every activity marked as a sin in the bible,” he continued, his voice even and strong but not mean.

“I would have thought that would have been obvious by everything we did last night,” he added, pressing a little more firmly on your lower back, gliding his palm down to the slope of your ass to grasp at the skin there.

You gulp audibly, startled by his candid admission. Maybe you did have him all wrong. Maybe you judged this book by the cover too quickly, your opinion shadowed by everything you knew from the devout adults you had grown up around. You had always assumed it was black and white, no gray space between for any compromise.

All you could do in that moment, overcome with emotions you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge, was pull him close to you and connect your hips with his to slowly create friction between the two of you. You hungrily captured his lips in yours, sighing into him as his fingers gently tugged your hair and brought you to another two unholy orgasms.

–

You don’t bother showering again, opting to take Doyoung up on that ride home from his driver who arrives in less than fifteen minutes, despite the morning rush hour traffic. You’re soon stepping out onto the busy streets, feet back in those painful boots and coat wrapped tightly around you to cover your revealing outfit you still can’t believe you wore out all night (but probably have to thank for this entire encounter).

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t a lost little angel!” comes a familiar voice, catching you as you are approaching the black car, the driver standing with a neutral expression waiting to open the door for you.

“Jungwoo, hey,” you start, stepping towards the man who is placing his motorcycle helmet on the seat, arms crossed as he leans gently against the expensive bike.

He’s wearing low rise leather pants with a matching belt adorned with a large silver buckle. His jacket is open and you can see a tight and cropped red shirt underneath, exposing much of his toned abs and navel. Nude color blocking rose up the sides of the shirt, covered in black crescent moons and he is wearing a stack of gold chains tight around his neck. A large green stone is dangling from his ear, moving as he speaks.

His hair is fluffy from the helmet, eyes smudged lightly with dark liner, most likely still from the night before. He looks absolutely unreal and your mind drifts to images of your friend pressed between him and the equally sexy Jaehyun in the crowded bar, stirring tension deep in your core.

“How was your night?” you add, stepping closer to him, curious about what your friend had gotten into.

“I’m sure just as sinful as yours by the look of this walk of shame,” he almost sneers back, tone unmatched to the large grin covering his face from his lips to his eyes. He grabs your phone from you and punches his number in, punctuating with a sultry wink. His eyes are flicking up and down your body dramatically, making overly exaggerated facial expressions at you.

You roll your eyes at him, turning to head to the car, wagging your fingers at him seductively and putting extra emphasis in your steps as you know he has his eyes glued to your ass as you slide into the car.

When Doyoung emerges from the shower with a towel tied low around his waist he finds Jungwoo lounging in his favorite chair in the living room, flipping through a magazine he had left here the week before. He looks up to make eye contact with Doyoung, smiling and letting a low whistle slide out his lips.

“Don’t start, Woo,” Doyoung warns curtly, pouring two cups of coffee and preparing them the way they both like.

“Look look, I have Father Lee on speed dial, he’s ready to do an emergency confession for you in the lobby of your office if you need it this morning,” he laughs back, closing the magazine and accepting the mug.

Doyoung rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to reach over and slap the back of Jungwoo’s head. He knows his friend is exaggerating but he had consequently already sent Mark a text that he would stop by the church later that day for a chat. Having one of your oldest friends be a priest that was known for being more on the liberal side had its perks.

“Just because I don’t flaunt my escapades all over town or upload racy videos into the shared DJJ iCloud album, doesn’t mean I’m not getting my dick wet,” he replies after a long sip of much needed coffee.

Jungwoo almost spits out his coffee at the vulgar comment, lips twisting up into a wicked smile as he watches his friend, relaxed and shirtless mid-morning on a work day.

“Something’s different about you, Kim Doyoung,” Jungwoo chuckles, tapping back into his conversation with Jaehyun from earlier, who had frantically texted him from the office that Doyoung hadn’t shown up for their morning meeting and wasn’t replying to any of his texts.

“I guess you could say I was touched by an angel,” Doyoung replies wickedly, winking at Jungwoo before standing and letting his towel fall from his hips, whipping it at leather clad knees before walking slowly back into the bedroom.

Jungwoo’s eyes widen and a smile spreads across his face, watching his friend’s toned ass move away from him and examining the red marks dotting his broad back.

“Oh Jaeeeeee, I have an idea for something that could be fun and oh so messy,” Jungwoo whispers into the phone as he steps out onto the balcony, lighting a blunt in the cool morning air, surrounded by the sounds of the bustling city below.

Part Two TEASER + Tag List NOW LIVE HERE

#doyoung smut #doyoung x reader #nct smut #nct x reader #nct fanfic #religious trauma slay #djj x reader #djj smut #jungwoo smut #jaehyun smut

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byoldervine · 11 months ago

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Motivation For Writing

Getting Off Your Butt:

1. Aestheticise it. Let the light in through the curtains, turn on your fairy lights, lay a blanket over your lap, light some candles, whatever you need to do to feel like a writer. The right vibes can go a long way

2. Picture that one scene. There’s almost always a moment you’re super excited about that basically inspired the whole book. Picture it, play it out in your head in full cinematic fanfare, gush to yourself about how cool it is and how everyone will love it, picture a future fanbase going nuts for it. You might get excited enough to go back to writing

3. Set a word count goal. During NaNoWriMo this year I think I wrote more than I ever have in one go. The thing that kept me coming back was the desire to not fall behind. I ended up with ~45K words after some complications irl caused me to drop off in the final few days, and that’s all just because I was adding up the 1667 a day word count goal and realising where I needed to be at to keep up. I definitely can’t stay as rigid as I did with 1667 words every single day, but seeing that you’re only a few hundred words off of a goal is super motivating - just be sure to set realistic, easy to achieve parameters for just general use, like 1000-2000 words per week. I know 200 words per day is a popular one for people trying to establish a writing routine that can’t dedicate forever to the craft

Maintaining Motivation:

1. Writing sprints. Writing sprints are a godsend for me, I like to set myself up in the living room with Abbie Emmons’ writing sprint video on. The video lasts two hours and is broken up into two parts; 25 minutes to write and 5 minutes for breaks between writing, so four 30 minute sprints overall. Having the timer and countdown with peaceful music and an aesthetic background is both relaxing and encouraging, as well as giving me a specific time for how much longer I have to push through. It’s easier for me to say “Okay, only ten more minutes, then you can take a break” then it is to say “Just keep going, we’re not stopping until I say so” which is too arbitrary for my brain to accept

2. Give yourself a choice. If you’re struggling to keep your focus, come up with a finish line and tell yourself you don’t have to do any more work once you’ve reached that point. Finish the paragraph, go for another five or ten minutes, keep it up until your next scheduled break. Whatever sounds realistic and doable without being overwhelming. And once you’ve met this goal, ask yourself if you still want to stop. With any luck, you’ll have gotten back into the zone and will choose to keep going. Maybe you’ll want to take a quick break but you’ll come back later on. And maybe you’ll decide that now actually is a good stopping point. Just remember that, if you do still want to stop, don’t force yourself to keep going. You can’t strike deals with yourself if you know you won’t keep your word and all you’ll end up doing is burning yourself out, which will lead to even less writing getting done

3. Try a new angle. If you can’t be bothered to write anymore, is there anything else you can do for your book? Plotting, editing, worldbuilding, character sheets, one-shots all that sort of thing can still be productive for your book while still being different enough to give your brain a slight respite. It also means less work in that particular area later on

Afterwards:

1. Organise. Clean up your workspace and put everything away so it’s nice and neat for when you come back to it. Or if you don’t need to pack things out the way, set it up in an aesthetically pleasing way so it will tempt you back next time. Let it give you the writer vibe

2. Take care of yourself. Get a drink, have a snack, walk about, stretch your limbs, take a breath, cuddle your pet. Something that gets you away from straining your eyes looking at text for a bit. This is also a good time to reward yourself if positive reinforcement is something you use on yourself. If you always feel shitty after your writing sessions, you won’t want to go back to it

3. Positive reflection. Make sure to tell yourself you did good, even if you didn’t get as much done as you would’ve liked or it isn’t up to a standard of quality you’re aiming for. That can all be fixed later on, and you’re infinitely better off than you would’ve been if you didn’t do it. Be proud of yourself. Tell yourself you’re proud of your hard work and your dedication and your effort. Remind yourself that this is a fun thing you like to do. Marvel over how insane it is that you’ve gotten this far - not many people do - and that you’ve got all this tangible work to prove you’ve accomplished something so many people wish they could pull off. If this isn’t fun overall, there’s no point

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onlyswan · 2 years ago

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summary: in which jungkook is too lazy to shower and you’re too weak to resist each other.

> est. relationship, fluff, v brief smut bc aftercare, some angst / wc: 4.7k

> warnings: subby!jk, implied edg♡ng and or♡l (and mention of f. receiving), brief h♡ndj♡b, c♡m eat♡ng, oc lowkey possessive oop, jungkook cries bc he is so full of love then i cried too </3 oc washes jk in the bathtub <3

> in which masterlist!

note: oc is stepping up what else can i say 🤷 and yea it’s jk at the ck event for the second part <3 this is… the sexiest time u’ll get from me i just felt the need to establish exactly how jk is smitten for oc. like i need u to understand!!!! before the next drabble bcoz 🥲 as alwaysss i love hearing your thoughts thru comments/reblog/asks !! <3

—

jungkook’s rhythmic knocking prompts you to blindly fumble for the handle with a slippery hand, sliding the glass door open to get rid of the barrier separating the two of you.

“what?” you mumble, eyes squeezed shut as you spread the shampoo in your hair.

your boyfriend gingerly wipes away the bubbles posing threat to your vision, allowing you to finally open your eyes and bask in his breathtaking beauty this fine morning. he stands by the door wearing only his black boxers, untamed hair and starry eyes softening the edges of your sharp temper. you will never not hate waking up early.

his voice is muffled by the pink toothbrush hanging from his lips as he beseeches you, deliberately using the charm of his pleading doe eyes.

“will you wash me, too…? i’m so tired, baby. i barely slept.”

“okay, babe.” you let out a sigh as you turn on the shower again. “but don’t get frisky. i can’t be late for work again.”

your approval makes his face light up as bright as a clear, sunny sky. why is he acting as if this is the very first time he will be standing underneath the shower with you? you fail to keep an endeared smile at bay.

“wait for me, okay?! i’ll just feed song and ppaeng real fast.”

he carefully closes the glass door, and then you hear it — his heavy feet stomping on the floor as he runs out of the bathroom as if he’s being chased by the hands of the clocks in the apartment.

“so annoying.” you snicker humorously, burying your face in your hands as you allow the water to wash away the thick foam from your hair.

—

“so annoying!” you exclaim as you turn off the shower for the final time, wholeheartedly meaning it this time around. you even took your time washing the conditioner off your hair and cleaning your body, but your patience has thinned and disintegrated into dust.

you reach for your towel, and in that moment, jungkook finally barges in the room.

“you’re finished?!”

your piercing glare meets his ingenuous doe eyes, and he winces guiltily.

“i got distracted with chores. sorry.” he bravely takes several steps closer, stealing a quick peck from your lips. “but i packed up your lunch so you’re ready to go.”

as of recent, your boyfriend has added cooking your lunch to his daily routine so you can spend your midday break at the park instead of a busy and stuffy restaurant. and although you’re dreading the exhausting day that awaits once you step foot outside the house, your heart melts when you think about the hour reserved for you to savor the food he cooked with love from his heart. it’s so easy to feel isolated in this world, but if you think about how the food that you eat requires effort and care to be made beyond fuel to live, doesn’t it make you feel a little lucky to be here?

“i guess i have some time to wash your hair.”

“i’ll take it!” he almost cuts you off, jumping at the offer before another precious millisecond is wasted.

you chuckle at his ardent display of eagerness. “will you fetch my robe then?”

—

jungkook comfortably settles in the far left of the drop-in bathtub where the showerhead is attached to the wall. meanwhile, you’re by his side facing him, sitting on the second step of the low white chair stool you both agreed to buy specifically for this type of situation.

with the heel of his palm, he wipes away the lone tear that trickles down his cheek as he lets go of another irrepressible yawn. he thought that the iced americano he was leisurely drinking in the kitchen already woke him up, yet here he is being lulled to sleep once more.

it was wrong of him to expect you to simply drizzle products on his hair and wash them off in a hurry. so wrong. you refuse to live your life halfheartedly, and that bleeds into your daily actions, he realizes.

you didn’t forget to comb his hair, untangling the knots painstakingly, before instructing him to sit under the shower. and once you were finished with generously applying the shampoo to cover his head, your artful fingers weave into his long hair to massage his scalp in small, circular movements. it’s not much, but you’re hoping that even with only five minutes of this small gesture, you can bring him some sort of comfort after having a bad night’s sleep.

“ah- this feels so nice. you’re healing me.” he sighs in relief, instinctively leaning into your affectionate touches.

you swoop in to plant a quick kiss on his lips before you take a peek at his phone. he has been diligently protecting it from the water, along with his hands.

“so, you’re buying a new polaroid camera?”

he nods, round eyes anchored in the screen as he reviews the product description displayed. “i couldn’t sleep so i started checking them out last night. i don’t really know what i’m looking for this time… i just want it to be black.”

“what made you think of it so suddenly?” you curiously inquire, ignoring the growing soreness in your arms as your fingers travel their way down to the lower half of his hair, consistent with the light pressure to release his tension.

“i want to do that thing.”

“what thing?”

“you know… tha-that thing, putting a photo of your favorite person on the back of your phone.” he stutters, lips curving into a sheepish smile. “you do it, too. sometimes.”

you snort, cracking up in laughter as you’re reminded of a running gag in your relationship. every time they have a new album release, he goes out of his way to ask for his photocards so he can jokingly present them to you as gifts since he’s your ‘favorite idol’. you do own quite a lot of phone cases, including a transparent that you use every and now then. the last one you put in the back of it was a random from his photofolio, the one in which he was doing a kissy face. how many people out there can say that their boyfriend was a vampire once?

“don’t laugh!” he whines grumpily. “you need to pose for them cutely, okay?”

“i’ll dress myself up prettier so you’ll look at me longer than the screen.”

a brand new camera always means having jungkook follow you around like a lost puppy, devoted to learning how to use it as an expert photographer and filmographer.

“but you better be sure not to burn my eyes with the flash again.”

it’s an honest mistake he’s done one too many times, even with his phone.

he scrunches his nose in shame, cackling. “it will never happen again. never. i really, really, really mean it this time.”

“sure, i should trust you.” you grimace, picking up the scalp brush on your lap before standing up to grab the shower head. “put your phone away now.”

swift to obey, he stands up to cross the distance between him and the highest floating shelf where you store the essential oils and small towels, leaving the device in between them for meantime. when he returns to his previous position, you begin rinsing his hair.

“wait- you hold this instead.” you hand him the shower, which he accepts unwittingly, moving it back and forth so he’s covering the entire area.

while he does that, you use his purple brush to be certain that the chemicals will be removed and washed away from his scalp, gentle fingers combing portions of his silky hair aside to reach every spot.

he cheesily smiles to himself under the stream of refreshingly cold water. as someone who goes out like a light when his hair is played with, jungkook is living his best life.

until he’s not.

“shit, shit, shit- i have to get dressed up.” you panic as your phone in the bedroom wildly blares the alarm sound that serves as your final warning. “oh well, i’m done anyway.”

abandoning the brush on the edge of the tub, you regain possession of the shower and run your fingers through his hair one last time for good measure, turning it off straight after.

“drive safe today. i love you. i love you. i love you.” you cage his wet face in your hands to kiss him repeatedly, tasting the coffee on his lips.

jungkook is left alone in the bathroom as you get yourself ready for work.

he side-eyes the bottle of conditioner with disgust. “guess it’s just you and me now.”

—

“i really need to shower but i don’t want to… aish, i wish i had someone to help me.” jungkook sighs dramatically as he rubs his stinging eyes. he expectantly looks over at your figure lying on the sofa, stroking your bare shins propped up by his thighs.

but you pretend that you don’t hear a single word he says, too engrossed in the anime ‘cells at work’ playing on the television to spare your boyfriend a glance. a sad frown appears on his face. he’s yearning for you after long hours of being apart.

he drops down to rest his weary body over yours, hugging your hips and face nuzzling the side of your chest. this impels you to wrap an arm around him, his half ponytail caught between your middle and ring fingers, but your hand remains idle on the back of his head.

he pitifully sobs as he whines, squeezing you tightly. “why am i like this? i don’t want to do anything… i’m too lazy… it’s seriously getting annoying now. what do i doooo?”

his speech is slightly slurred because his cheek is squished against your side. you can feel his warm breath fanning your skin, and your tickled laughter mixes in with the laughter brought by a funny scene. a minute later, the outro rolls in, which is your cue to wiggle out of his snuggling.

with his elbow anchored in the couch, jungkook watches you with disappointment swimming in his eyes as you pause the next episode and begin walking away.

“where are you going?”

you stop on your tracks, turning a little to the side to innocently flutter your lashes. “taking a shower so i can go to bed.”

your answer lights the fuse inside of jungkook, to put it lightly. still dressed in the all-black outfit he wore to an event today, minus the button-up and the stompers, he staggers on his feet. he hastily pulls out the hem of his t-shirt from being neatly tucked into his pants before bringing it over his head. he throws it aside without care, and there he stands with a sparkling silver chain dangling over his bare chest, looking like a walking daydream.

your droopy eyes widen as you’re taken aback by the rather alluring view. it seems that neither of you is making this game easy. “excuse me, mister? what are you doing?”

“well, what does it look like?” he shoots you a smirk, bangs falling over his eyes when he looks down to unbuckle his belt with practiced ease.

and you think that if you just play your cards right, he might wear them around your wrists next. oh no- no, no, no. the only restraint you should be thinking of right now is self-restraint, damn it.

“no, you’re not.”

“yes, i am.”

“no-”

“yes.”

your heart violently races when he begins wrapping the belt around his large palm, raising an eyebrow at you. but still, you stand your ground with a sweet, sarcastic smile.

“you’re not a baby. you’re 27 years old. i’m pretty sure you can shower on your own by now.”

and with that, you sprint to the bathroom before your hot boyfriend can strip off his pants, because you know it would be impossible to resist his charms then.

jungkook collapses on the couch, eyes turning into little crescent moons as uncontrollable giggles rack his body. at last, it dawns on him why you’ve been acting a certain way.

he may or may not have unintentionally snapped at his mother over the phone last night, rudely spitting out the two sentences you just used against him. despite witnessing him call and apologize not long after, you still have your own playful way of scolding him, it seems.

“what a brat.” he snorts as he chucks the belt on the table, having a feeling he will have another use for it later.

he sets his hair free from the ponytail and wears the hair tie around his wrist, running his fingers through the locks to tame the unruly mess. he shakes his head as another airy laugh is invoked from him by sheer amusement, tongue poking the inside of his cheek before he huffs.

“____ is really setting me straight like this…? ah, i’m angry!”

since he’s already half-naked anyway, he decides to remove his accessories, too. he starts with the silver bracelet around each of his wrists, tilting his head to the side as he reads the subtitle of the frozen frame on the television screen.

In the human body, there are roughly 37.2 trillion cells…

“i think i met the right person.” he nods to himself.

—

the air around him is sweltering and he doesn’t know how to breathe anymore.

“ohh fuck, fuck! i’m so— i’m so close, if you d-don’t stop-” jungkook cries out in desperation, losing any semblance of control he has over his body as he writhes on the mattress. “please, please… it feels too good, please. i’ve been behaving.”

“hm, go on, my love. want to taste you.”

your merciless hand pumps his length and your sinful lips scatter sloppy kisses along the tense muscles of his thighs. lewd, unrestrained moans escape his cerise lips as sparks of electricity burn beneath his eyelids, hips frantically rutting forward to chase his high. driven by lust in his dazed state, he holds himself up by his elbows to watch you reward his tip with languid licks of your tongue, sultry eyes staring back at him, and his head tips back into the pillows as he completely falls apart.

he lies absolutely boneless in the aftermath, mind and body floating in the abyss as he attempts to get back in touch with reality and recall his godforsaken name. his white-knuckled fist’s grip loosens, allowing his slender fingers to slip away from your hair when you remove yourself from between his legs. he covers his eyes with his tattooed arm as his chest heaves, catching his breath.

but then he is pulled out from the darkness by the sound of your giggles, bubbly and achingly familiar, coaxing his damp eyelashes to part from his flushed cheeks. with a blurry vision, he watches you scoop up some of the come that landed all over his chiseled abdomen. you push your middle and ring fingers past your lips, evidently debauched and delighted as you hum. your glasses hang loosely over your nosebridge, and he’s clueless how it managed to be clean while staying on your face.

all over again, the filthy scene pricks his skin with desire and coils the heat in his stomach… it looks reminiscent of your first kiss. but after being edged for what felt like an eternity, he’s afraid of what would become of him if he feels another ounce of pleasure.

“baby, you’re so fucking mean.” he croaks out, voice low and hoarse from choked sobs and begs. it cracks, sounding as though he doesn’t even have a voice left.

you’re more straightforward when you crave to be touched, whimpering a simple ‘i need you’ or ‘please take care of me’ with a pleading face as you play with his fingers. however, on the rare occasion that you get into a very… particular mood… you sigh and say ‘i’m bored’ before looking at him with faux innocence in your blown-out pupils… and because you’re just too damn enticing to resist, he ends up in this position — completely exposed while you’re cozily dressed in a t-shirt over your slip-on night dress, the one he was wearing before.

consequently, it has been making his life difficult. he instantly becomes turned on when you utter the commonly used words, even when there’s obviously no other meaning behind them. like when you’re in public. especially when you’re in public. he can foresee this moment flashing in his mind when he finds himself in the same predicament again. at this point, all he can say is heavens help him, he is so fucked. the angel they sent is well-versed in driving him wild.

“i love you.” he follows up, and your smile grows when you meet his hazy eyes.

“i love you more.” you reply in a sing-song voice, also raspy after having him down your throat. you bend down to plant a featherlight kiss on his pelvis, but he wants it somewhere else.

with his remaining shred of strength, he tugs at your arm to pull you in for a hungry kiss, his hand cupping your nape and his thumb rubbing your cheek. your tongue ghosts over the metal ring piercing his bottom lip, and he shakily breathes out a quiet moan.

you’re the first one to break away, pampering his lips with chaste pecks as you mumble, “my boyfriend is so pretty. mine. mine. mine. love you better than anyone could.”

jungkook’s heart does somersaults, the butterflies inside of him multiplying by the thousands with your every declaration.

you pout as you lovingly brush away the locks of hair sticking to his honey skin, glistening with sweat. “oh? are these sweat or tears? you cried again this time?”

with watering eyes, he can’t help but to dumbly stare at your glossy and swollen lips as you coo.

“but you took it so, so well. you were so perfect, baby boy. thank you.”

“don’t act so innocent.” he mutters, tattooed arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer, longing for your weight on top of his. “you know what you did.”

you chuckle as you drag the blanket over his body, concerned he might freeze from the blasted airconditioner now that the ecstasy is ebbing away. “but it felt good, right? did i do anything you didn’t like?”

he gets a sinking feeling when you look at him, asking for confirmation as if you didn’t reduce him into this incoherent puddle of beyond satiated appetite. holy shit, he’s the luckiest man on earth.

“mhm-mhm. more than good… always. you’re too good to be true.”

he sighs in contentment when you offer your arm as his pillow, embracing him tightly. his eyelids flutter shut as he feels the soreness of his muscles taking reign. oddly enough, he doesn’t mind the pain at all. he revels in it, almost. gradually, his heartbeat returns at its normal rate.

he doesn’t flinch when he feels a metal straw nudging his lips, instead he sips heartily to soothe his throat. you have pink hearts for irises as you adore his face, falling in love with your lover all over again.

“i love you. you’re so cute.” you giggle, tucking his hair behind his ears as you hold the water tumbler for him. “you’re so red- especially your ears- it’s so cute.”

this makes him smile sheepishly, bunny teeth biting the straw. he pops it out of his mouth to bury his face in the crook of your neck, laughing breathily.

“well if you point it out, i’ll turn redder!”

“is that so bad? then you’ll be cuter.” you squeeze his cheeks together to tilt his head towards you. “come on. how do you feel…? maybe a bit better? let’s get cleaned up so you can rest.”

he frowns. “i want to taste you, too.”

want to get his payback, more like.

“later, my lov-”

he doesn’t waste time in ducking down, hooking a finger around the waistband of your underwear while he sucks a bruise on your inner thigh.

“jungkook!” you giggle, dragging him off you by his hair. “no! stop! i just wanted to play and make you feel good.”

he refuses to relent, stubborn in his defiance, chasing and chasing until his puckered lips touch your soft skin again, peppering sweet kisses. pulling his hair only spurs him on, it looks like, so you end up using both hands to guide his face inches from yours.

“your busy bee needs to go back to work.” you give his pout an apologetic kiss, knowing full well that you’ll be in bed for much, much longer if you indulge him.

you still need to finish the due project you abandoned in your laptop because you would rather do this. or him? for a lack of better term.

“you can do it however long you want if you wait.”

he beams upon hearing your saccharine promise, eagerly nodding in agreement. and with a naughty smile, he pushes his luck. “then will you wash me now?”

and when you take more than three seconds to answer, he rushes to defend himself with- “i deserve it this time!”

—

jungkook is still and silent as he sits across you in the bathtub, extremely drowsy after you gave him another one of your soothing scalp massages when you washed his hair. the scented candle melting over the sink mixes with the drops of lavender oil you added into the water, and not far from it is his phone playing mellow music.

however, that changes when he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“you’re too gentle. are you sure i’m being cleaned?”

an irritated expression is drawn on your face as you grab his wrist, forcefully making him hold the soapy wash cloth you just started using. “then you do it yourself so i can focus on me instead.”

“i’m kidding, i’m kidding!” he winces when you make a move to stand up. he reflexively seizes your arm to stop you, lisp discernible as he grumbles. “babe, i can’t do it. i have no energy left and it’s your fault!”

you roll your eyes, reclaiming the cloth from his hand. you add a little more pressure to address his concern as you move on to lathering his tattooed arm, a coat of small bubbles decorating the diverse colors of ink covering his skin. you make a game out of neatly smoothing down his body hair.

“you know you have sensitive skin but you’re too rough when you do it. what’s the point of using a mild body wash?”

his brain fails to process your scolding, still weak and fuzzy like cotton, overcome by fragmented thoughts. the beckoning sound of your voice. the intoxicating scent of your newest perfume, strawberry clinging to your skin until now. your cleverness paired with seduction equals his blissful doom. your tenderness while you were making him cry. after making him cry. even when he’s not crying at all.

“____,”

your eyes flicker up to him in confusion. why is that you feel a little more real when he says your name?

“what?” you squeak out.

“you’re so beautiful.” he thinks out loud, ‘lovestruck’ written all over his softened features. “i wish there’s a better word for it. ehh, uhh, there probably is but…”

his forehead creases as he exerts mental power to flip through his dictionary, eyeballs pointing in different directions as if he will read the word somewhere on the walls.

“but i can’t think of one right now… my brain isn’t working.”

the compliment told dreamily makes your fragile heart beat louder inside your ribcage. concealing a flattered smile, you shake your head in disbelief.

“you think changing the topic like this will work?”

the water sloshes around as you inch closer, running the cloth over his shoulders and across his collarbones.

“i mean it.” he replies firmly, hands sneaking in to caress the sides of your waist, fingertips grazing your skin to trace amorphous drawings. “i didn’t always get the chance to look at you… like take my time and, really look at you. i hate that.”

you reach for the tallest bottle on the corner of the bathtub. as you spritz more body wash on the cloth, you give him a fleeting glance. “you’re doing it right now. that’s what matters.”

“i am.” he nods timidly.

his vision is fixated where your gentle scrubbing travels down to his chest. he sharply inhales, and exhales, choosing to pour every ounce of his attention on you. his tattooed hand slides up your body, gliding across your skin until he reaches your face. and as if he’s doubtful that you’re truly tangible and not a figment of his imagination, the back of his fingers tentatively brushes your cheek.

it rises under his touch as you sneakily steal glances of him getting lost in a trance. with droplets of water dripping from his wet hair, he blinks sleepily. his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows the lump in his throat, suppressing the new wave of salty tears threatening to leak from his eyes.

he doesn’t want to roam the roads of the past too much but — years after he broke your heart, has he become a man worthy of soaking in a bathtub with you? it’s an honor. it’s a joy. everything is clear. you’re not here to fill in a gap but to consume space. his body is permanently stained by the colors of your soul. he is loved.

considering that he still looks gorgeously wrecked from earlier, you only take it as a sign that he’s still not entirely present in this sphere. you want to give him more water, but neither of you feels the need to speak. wave to earth’s ‘evening glow’ is more than enough to fill the evening’s restful silence.

as he painfully yearns to do so, he takes his time, and you spread the body wash on the curves of his waist slower than you normally would.

his calloused thumb traces your jaw, and your breath hitches when he pauses at your bottom lip. he applies just enough pressure to memorize the softness of the flesh under his touch, slightly separating it from your upper lip. he fails to take notice of his own lips unconsciously mirroring yours. and he swears on his life, all the clocks in the world have stopped ticking to let him live in this moment forever.

on the other hand, you also fail to shut out your own impulses. your lips pucker to kiss the pad of his thumb with a smooching sound. he breaks out into a toothy grin, the long dimples running down his lower cheeks popping out.

he delicately holds your face steady in one hand, pointer finger digging in one cheek and his thumb on the other, before he draws in to grant you a proper kiss. his nose bumps against yours when it breaks.

“need to sit on your lap so i can reach your back.”

“i’m all yours.” he whispers while he guides you into position, softly squeezing at your hips.

with you straddling him, he can embrace you as he likes, his chest pressed against yours. he happily tucks his chin over the shoulder of your unbusy arm, and he’s on top of the world. he hums and sings along to johnny stimson’s ‘honeymoon’, harmoniously swaying in the limited space as you knead his back. he is undoubtedly, thoroughly drunk. the 80- to 90-proof bottles of whiskey gathered in the kitchen cabinet got nothing on you.

he sniffles quietly, using his wrist to pat his tear-stained eyes and cheeks dry. he plants a small kiss on the soft flesh under your ear before succumbing to the heaviness weighing on his eyelids.

jungkook’s adorable snoring contests with his phone’s high-quality speakers. almost, almost too identical to the sound of the candle wick burning.

“oh, for fuck’s sake.” you curse under your breath, splashing water on the expanse of your boyfriend’s back to wash away the bubbles.

“…it’s 9pm. did i seriously tire him out that much?”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

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greynatomy · 6 months ago

Text

reputation

ella toone x reader

first ella toone fic! was in the drafts for a while and got around to finally finishing it. honestly don’t know where i was going with this

———

You had a reputation.

Once you turned eighteen, you started to rebel, wanting to make your point across. At eighteen, you started getting tattoos and buzzed all your hair, looking completely different from the colorful person you used to be. You wanted to steer away from the child everyone sees you to be and be seen more of an adult. The thing is, your management thought that the only way to do that is to make you out to be a womanizer, getting girls left and right.

The smoking, though, that was on you. Becoming well known starting at the age of fifteen, you’ve been under the spotlight from a young age, being told how to dress, how to act, everything in your life was controlled. The smoking, getting tattoos, cutting your hair was a way for you to get some of the control back.

You are now twenty-five. Fired your old management, signed into a new label who let you be you. Its been two years and you’ve been writing and producing songs on low profile. Your fans still figure out which songs have been written/produced by you - even under pseudonyms. You were loving being out of the spotlight for once.

—

The sun shining through the curtains wakes you up from your sleep, eyes fluttering shut from the light. Your arm tightens its hold from the body it’s slung over, pulling them close.

“Mmm, five more minutes.”

You didn’t reply, just pulled her closer than she already is, drifting back to sleep. About an hour later, you wake up to footsteps running around. Sitting up, back resting against the headboard, you see your girlfriend running around, stuffing things into her training bag. You sat there quietly, admiring your her chaotic form rushing in and out the room.

“You’re staring.”

“Just admiring.” You mouth twitching up in amusement.

“Well, I need to leave now or I’ll be late.”

“Did you pack any going out clothes? Wanna take you out after training.”

“Yeah, but what about my car?”

“I’ll take a cab to the facility. Wait for you.”

“Alright, text me when you’re there.” She leans down, giving you a kiss. “I love you.”

You grab the back of her neck and pull her back when she moves away, pulling her back in for another kiss.

“I love you. Now, go before you’re late.”

“See you soon.”

To make time go by faster, you decided to busy yourself with some cleaning around the house. You quite liked being a little housewife for Ella, cooking, cleaning, waiting for her to get back home from training.

Few hours later, dressed casual, you’re in a cab on the way to St. George’s Park. paying the cab driver, you walk to the parking lot looking for Ella’s car.

Rockstar 🎸��

at the car. forgot the spare key. take your time

Looney Toones ❤️⚽️

give me a few minutes

You leaned against the car, answering some messages and emails from your phone. You were too focused to notice a couple of footsteps coming towards you.

“Uh, excuse you. Don’t lean on the car.”

You look up, taking the hood off your head, to see Ella’s best friend, Alessia, and one other.

“Oh, sorry.”

“Hold on.” Mary, the goalkeeper that Ella’s told you about, spoke up. “Why do you look so familiar?”

Before you could answer, you’re cut off by a very loud voice.

“We’re matching!”

Your face instantly lights up at the voice of your girlfriend.

“What a coincidence!”

“Ha. Ha.” Ella realizes you, once again, matched with her on purpose. “What is it with you wanting to match with me?” She smiles at you with adoration.

You shrug. “You ready to go?”

The clearing of a throat breaks the two of you out of your bubble, forgetting about the other two Lionesses.

“Uh, Tooney?”

“Yeah?”

“Who’s this?”

Ella’s face lights up. “Oh! This is me girlfriend, Y/N!”

“Nice to meet your two!” You hold your hand out, but it was just stared at. You let out a chuckle, awkwardly putting your hand back down. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah. Bye guys.”

Mary and Alessia watch as the car drives off with their friend inside.

“I remember now! She’s Y/N Y/LN. The one I’ve seen on the news always bringing a new one home.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I wouldn’t be surprised if Ella was just another one of her conquests.”

The next day at training, Mary and Alessia approach Ella during break.

“Hey, guys!” Ella greeted them cheerfully.

“Hey, Ella. Uh, just some questions.”

“What is it?”

“Your girlfriend. You know who she is right?”

Ella was now confused. “Uh, yeah. Of course I do.”

“Well, we’re just worried.”

“About?” Now Ella was getting a bit impatient.

“She’s a bit off a womanizer isn’t she?” Alessia blurts out, speaking up for the first time.

“Excuse me?”

“She’s always seen with a new girl hanging by her arm like every week.”

“I’m not having this conversation.”

“Look, Tooney. We’re just looking out for you.”

“Looking out for me? Nah, I’m done with this conversation.”

You were in the backyard when you heard the front door slam shut. Looking towards the door, you see your girlfriend stomping towards you and plopping down on your lap.

“What’s happened?”

“Ugh! Can you believe Mary and Less? They had the nerve! The nerve to accuse you of being with me only temporarily.”

“What else did they say?”

“They were talking ‘bout how you always have anew girl hanging off your arm and stuff, but those were from years ago before you fired everyone.”

You wrap your arms tighter around her, pulling her closer. “Well, I mean, look at it from their perspective. They’ve never met me, they don’t know me like you do. All they have is what they’ve seen online. And they’re your best mates, they’re looking out for you.”

After a few moments of silence, Ella now has a look of determination on her face. She grabs her phone and sends out a text.

“They’ll be here in a couple minutes.”

Your eyes almost pop out of their sockets.

“What do you mean in a couple minutes. I haven’t even cleaned the house yet.”

You run around the house picking up anything you could see to put away, wanting to make a good first- technically second- impression with Ella’s best friends.

“Babe.”

You go to grab the vacuum.

“Baby.”

You also grab a broom because what if the vacuum isn’t enough.

“Baby!” She grabs you by the shoulders to keep you in place. “Breathe.” You do as she says. “Okay. The house isn’t even messy and even if it was, they’d know it was from me.”

You nod your head. “True.”

Exactly as Ella stated, there was a knock on your front door a couple of minutes later. She greets them, letting them in and goes to stand next to you.

“This is Y/N. My girlfriend, as I stated yesterday.”

“Hi, nice to meet you both.” You give them a small wave.

Mary’s lips form a straight line while Alessia gives you a small smile in greeting.

“Let me get us something to drink.” Ella announces, leaving the three of you alone.

“What’s your game here?” Mary gets straight to the point.

“Sorry?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“C’mon! You’ve gotten with singers and supermodels, basically everyone. Is Ella another one of your conquests?”

“What? No!”

“I’m not stupid! I know your reputation, you go from one girl to another.”

“Well, then you don’t know me at all!” You were now getting frustrated. You hated when people judge you just because of what they see from the media. You can’t blame them though, that’s all people know you from.

“What’s going on here?” Ella walks back in, drinks in hand, confusion on her face.

“Nothing. Just getting to know—”

“—Actually.” Mary cuts Alessia off. “I just wanted to make sure she is good for you. Based on all the girls she’s been with, I don’t think she is.”

“Okay, that’s enough Mary!”

“I’m just being realistic!”

“No, you’re being an asshole judging my girlfriend from things you see on the internet. You should know not to believe everything you see online. The both of you.” Mary and Alessia looks down in shame. “Also, if you haven’t noticed, she’s been out of the media for two years so everything you’ve seen was from a long time ago.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that she’s been with half the population before you!”

“It does when you find out that that isn’t true at all.”

“What?” Alessia’s voice was soft but heard.

“My name is-was a brand by the label. I was legally blinded to do what they told me to do and the acting out, smoking, tattoos, those are the only ways I could take some control back, but I never took advantage of anyone. All those girls I’ve been pictured with, I’ve only slept with one until she left me because management wanted to keep the ‘bad girl’ image.”

You move to the kitchen, grabbing a beer from a refrigerator. Popping it open, you take a swig, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Two years ago, I decided to ‘run away’ to Manchester. Fired my whole team and just disappeared.”

“That’s when I met ‘er.” Ella cuts in, wrapping an arm around your waist, leaning into you. “Started dating two months after the countless dates she took me on and it’s been almost two years. She makes me really happy.” The last sentence was directed right at her friends.

“Okay. I’m sorry for judging you so quick.”

“Same with me. I’m sorry.”

“No hard feelings at all.” You give them both a smile. “Now since you’re both here, why don’t you stay for dinner.

The three perk up at the mention of food.

#woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #ella toone #ella toone x reader #engwnt x reader #woso community

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giveafike · 2 months ago

Note

in honour of bens bday u should do a fic where he gets a special bday present iykyk!?!😉😉

TLDR: You surprise Ben on his bday with his fave present ever (you)! DW for my soft girls, I'll be posting a SFW alphabet after this

Word count + info: 3.5k! Lwky way longer than smut I'd normally write, but it's for a special occassion (I had this up my sleeve for some time). Dialogue (sex talk,.).

Warnings + Content Ahead: NSFW - Minors DNI!! Sweet loving unprotected sex, hickeys, oral sex ... erm yeah!

Azzie Notes ✚: I wasn't gonna let u guys go hungry on a day like today! I also wasn't about to proofread and post a NSFW fic in public lmao, so sorry for the wait!! Also, ANON!!! they say great minds think alike, I was gonna surprise u guys for today w this since we're all so desperate rn, anyways, happy birthday to us!! (im so sad he didnt win today, I hope hes ok tho. I also he posts for his bday so I have new pics to drool over)

P.S this cake in the middle made me YELP laughing, I had to include it. I love Ben's barely visible moustache too, pls am i feral or... 🤭🤭 SEND REQUESTS!!

————————————————————————

Shanghai - B.T.S.

You had been planning this for weeks, months actually, sacrificing your time, saving up, and ensuring every detail was perfect for Ben’s 22nd birthday. It wasn’t just another day; it was his day, and you would make sure it was unforgettable.

Of course, he didn't take a break, not even on his birthday. So naturally, you found yourself flying into Shanghai the afternoon before his birthday. You packed last minute but you knew exactly what to do when you got there. His dad, Bryan, and his personal trainer had been in on the whole surprise from the get-go, helping ensure everything would go smoothly. They were kind enough to organise and send you a spare key to Ben's apartment so you could set up his surprise while he spent the early hours preparing and playing on the courts. Ben was already deep into his routine for the Rolex Masters, completely oblivious to your plan. They had arranged for you to sneak into Ben’s apartment while he was out, leaving you the whole morning to prepare for his surprise.

The morning of his birthday, after Ben left for training and his match, you got to work. You had one mission: make everything perfect before he returned. With the help of the chef and a few decorators, who arrived early to set up while you were out, the apartment was being transformed into a celebration space. They handled the food, decorations, and clean up so you could focus on the rest of the surprise.

You went straight from the apartment to the bustling streets of Shanghai, making sure to get everything in one sweep. First, you found a shop that sold the most beautiful silver chain, sleek, simple, and elegant. The links were subtly engraved with the coordinates of the place of your first date. It was a personal, thoughtful gift, something he could wear daily without it being too flashy.

Next, you picked up the balloons, large, metallic letters that spelt out “Happy 22nd Birthday Ben!,” as well as gorgeous bouquets of red roses and white lilies, his favourites, he loved how they smelt. As you walked through the shops, your heart raced. You smiled, imagining his reaction when he saw the apartment transformed, he didn't even know you were here.

Your final stop was a chic lingerie boutique. You browsed through delicate fabrics before choosing a stunning set of black lace lingerie, seductive and understated, the perfect surprise for later that evening. With everything in hand, you rushed back to the apartment, anticipation buzzing in your veins.

Once the chef and decorators finished setting up and left, you had the apartment to yourself. The balloons were floating in the living room, the roses perfectly arranged in tall vases strewn around. The air was filled with the scent of candles and the delicious meal waiting to be heated up later, roasted duck breast, truffle mashed potatoes, and a rich red wine reduction. The cake sat in the fridge, waiting for its moment to shine with the cheeky message iced on top: “Happy Birthday! I love you for you, but that D is an amazing bonus too”. You checked on it and giggled to yourself before you headed to get ready.

You took your time getting ready. First, you showered and did your hair in soft waves that tumbled down your back. Your makeup was flawless, subtle with a bold touch of a deep vampy lipstick. You slipped into the black lace lingerie, feeling a rush of excitement as the delicate fabric hugged your skin. You took your time admiring it on you, knowing it would only get seconds of appreciation before it's torn off. Over it, you put on the gown you had chosen for the evening, a long, sheen golden dress that was tied at the neck and shimmered as it draped down to your ankles. It was backless, elegant yet sensual, teasing the bra wire at the back and you couldn’t wait for Ben to see it.

With everything in place, you received the text from Bryan:

Ben’s on his way back. He’ll be there soon.

It was time.

You lit the candles around the apartment, their warm glow casting a flickering, romantic light across the room. Then you dimmed the overhead lights, giving the space an intimate ambience. You hopped up onto the kitchen island, tucking your feet under you, the golden dress pooled as you propped yourself up with the cake on your lap, carefully placing and lighting candles. The scent of flowers and the flicker of candlelight filled the air as you waited, your heart beating faster with every passing minute.

Ben’s footsteps grew louder as he approached the door, but your heartbeat drowned them out. You took a deep breath, adjusting your posture on the counter, the lit candles casting a soft glow over your golden gown. The cake on your lap, with its cheeky message, waited for his reaction.

The door clicked open, and Ben stepped inside, in his shorts and t-shirt, looking completely unprepared for what greeted him. His eyes scanned the room in a quick sweep, first the balloons and decorations all over, then the flowers, the candles, before landing on you. His jaw dropped, eyes wide in surprise as his bag fell to the floor with a thud.

“Happy Birthday!” you said, hopping off the counter and sauntering towards him, the cake held out for him to blow out the candles. The flickering flames illuminated his expression, pure, genuine shock.

“Holy-" he began, running a hand through his tousled hair. "You're here? In Shanghai?”

You grinned, holding up the cake just beneath his chin. “Surprise, baby.”

He walked over to you in slow strides, shock written all over, converting into a big smile. Ben holds your face, kissing your forehead tenderly before he glances from you to the cake, his smile growing. Then he read the message, written in smooth icing: Happy Birthday! I love you for you, but that D is an amazing bonus too.

Ben chuckled, shaking his head, his voice rich with amusement. “Of course you would write that.”

You winked. “Come on, make a wish, birthday boy. The candles are melting”.

He blew out the candles, his eyes never leaving yours, his intensity heightened by the dim lighting. The last flicker of the candles faded, leaving the two of you in a soft, romantic glow.

You set the cake on the island and looked up at him expectantly with a cheeky smile. “So? What did you wish for?”

Ben tilted his head, his gaze lingering on you for a long moment. “I’m not supposed to tell you, right?” His voice dropped lower as he leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “But if I’m honest, I already got my wish”.

Your cheeks flushed at the warmth in his voice as he planted a kiss on your ear to your cheek, and you laughed, brushing him off playfully. “Smooth, Shelton. Real smooth.”

You beckoned him to take a seat at the dinner table while you plated up dinner. Ben’s gaze followed you as you turned to grab the plates, his eyes catching the thin strap of your lacy bra that peeked out from the backless gown. “Wait a second,” he said, voice thick with admiration. “What are you hidin' under here?".

You smirked over your shoulder, sliding the plated food onto the table. “No spoilers! That's for later”

Ben bit his lip, shaking his head, but the playful gleam in his eye was undeniable.

Dinner was simple yet elegant, spent in perfect company and admiration. The conversation flowed as it always did, full of laughter and warmth. You listened as he recounted stories from his time in Shanghai, but you couldn’t ignore how his gaze kept drifting toward you, especially as he roamed over your face and down to the golden gown.

After the final bites of dinner, it was time for his gifts. You handed him a small box first, an elegant silver chain that he unwrapped carefully, his brow furrowing in curiosity. His fingers brushed over the subtle engraving on the links.

“These are coordinates,” he murmured, more to himself.

You nodded. “To where we had our first date.”

Ben’s expression softened immediately, his hand closing around the chain. “Oh, baby...” His voice was quiet, full of emotion as he thumbed over the engraving. He pulled it on, the silver glinting softly in the candlelight as it rested against his neck. “This is perfect. I love it.”

You smiled, watching him admire it before you handed him a few more small gifts, personal things you knew he’d love, tokens of your relationship like a small scrapbook of things you love about him with printed photos, some gifts from his friends back home, a Lego set. He found himself smiling, chuckling and soft with each gift. As the gifts came to a close, you stood up and made your way in front of Ben.

With a mischievous grin, you leaned closer, voice teasing. “But the best present is still to come.”

Ben raised an eyebrow, his grin widening as you knelt, turned around and swept your hair to the side, revealing the small tie at the nape of your neck that held your golden gown in place. “Want to unwrap your final present?”

His hands were on you in an instant, fingers brushing against your skin as he slowly undid the delicate knot. The gown loosened, slipping easily down your body, the soft fabric cascading to the floor in a golden pool around your feet.

Ben’s breath hitched as he took in the sight of you standing there in front of him in nothing but the black lace lingerie that had played in his mind all night. The candlelight only made you look all the more beautiful, feeling like he was entranced. His gaze travelled over your body, and his voice dropped to a rough whisper. “Jesus, baby…”

His hands gently grazed your bare skin as his eyes roamed over every inch of you. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you picked this out.”

“I know what my boyfriend likes,” you teased, holding his hands and bringing him to his feet. He stood close, his hands roaming the small of your back, your shoulders, your hips - anywhere he could feel your skin. Your height difference is now apparent as you look up at him through your lashes.“I’ve got his taste figured out by now.”

Ben grinned, his gaze darkening as his hand slid up to cradle your jaw. “You definitely do,” he whispered before pulling you into a kiss, deep, slow, and intoxicating. His lips were warm and soft against yours, the heat between you both intensifying with each passing second. The kiss deepened, his hands sliding down to your waist, pulling you closer as though he couldn't get enough of you.

You broke the kiss, breathless, your heart pounding as you looked up at him. “Come with me, just one more surprise,” you said softly, taking his hand and leading him toward the bedroom.

As you approached, the door swung open, revealing a scene that took Ben by surprise once again. The room was bathed in the warm glow of candles scattered across various surfaces, their flickering light casting soft shadows on the walls. Rose petals were strewn artfully over the bed, a trail of them leading from the door to where the plush bedding awaited. It was romantic, thoughtful, and completely personal, elevating the moment beyond any cliché.

Ben stood in the doorway for a moment, his hand still in yours, his gaze sweeping over the room. His breath caught, and he gave a quiet, amazed laugh. “I've never been so spoiled before, Y/N.”

You turned to him, your smile soft, the warmth of the moment settling around you both. “Only the best for you. Happy birthday, baby. I love you so much”.

He didn’t waste another second. In one smooth motion, Ben hauled you up into his arms, his lips capturing yours again in a kiss that felt even more intense than the last. There was something deeper in it now, filled with gratitude and love, not just desire. His hands roamed your body, appreciating every inch, as he brought you towards the bed. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you let him take the reign of the kiss, letting him enjoy feeling you up after so long. The feel of his lips, the way his fingers tangled in your hair as he kissed you like he couldn’t believe you were there, it made the whole night feel perfect. He tugged off his shorts and broke the kiss to take off his t-shirt.

He paused, holding your face as he looked down at you before he began to speak, chains dangling in your face, his voice husky against your skin. “You’ve made this the best birthday I’ve ever had. Thank you.”.

Your heart swelled at his words, and you smiled softly, holding his face and rubbing your thumb across his cheek. “And the night’s only just started. Let me take care of you tonight”. You winked as you gently pushed his shoulder down, putting you on top and letting him feel nothing but pure pleasure and love tonight. You straddled him as you undid your bra, tossing it to the side.

His breath hitched again, eyes trailing over you in admiration.

“God, you’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion and desire. His hands ran up your sides in a feathering feeling, before cupping your breasts, palming and tweaking your nipples.

"And you're amazing. I love you, Ben. I'm all yours" you purred as you swept your hair over to one side, placing your palms on his broad chest, lowering yourself down as you planted kisses along his jaw.

Your words made him exhale deeply, giving you just the motivation you needed. You made sure you were going to kiss every inch of Ben tonight, show him just how much you loved and adored him. You sucked on the soft spots you knew well by now, places that made him whimper and groan with pleasure, your favourite symphony. You nipped at his Adam's apple while he fondled your breasts, pinching, rolling and tugging at your nipples. The feeling made you moan against his throat, both of you enthralled in bliss. You trailed your mouth and tongue down kissing and suckling his shoulders and chest, leaving a trail of hickeys all over. You could hear the soft gasps escape his mouth as he held your body tight.

"Ben? Baby, keep your eyes on me, m'kay?" You purred as you made your way to his stomach, about to kiss down to his happy trail.

His eyes flitted open as he propped himself up to keep his eyes on you, never once breaking eye contact. You trailed down, right by his waistband as you danced around, teasing him. You could feel his hard length, desperate to be free, you could see the desperation in his eyes, his mouth agape, brows furrowed, and you could see your work marked all over him, leaving purple stains tainting his skin.

"Y/N...please" he whispered, his voice croaking.

You smiled, holding back a small laugh as you bit his waistband, dragging it down with your teeth as he lifted himself a bit to help you slide them off. You lowered yourself to the edge of the bed, on your knees, never once breaking eye contact.

Ben's erection sprang free, already hard and eager for your touch. You couldn't help but lick your lips at the sight, feeling a surge of desire course through you.

"Tell me what you want, birthday boy," you hummed, your breath hot against his skin as you placed your head on his thigh.

Ben's eyes were dark with lust as he looked down at you. "Your mouth," he groaned. "Please, baby".

Maintaining eye contact, you slowly kissed the tip, before licking a long stripe from base to tip. Ben let out a low groan, his hands fisting in the sheets. You swirled your tongue around the head before taking his head into your mouth.

Ben's eyes fluttered closed before snapping open again, remembering your request to keep watching. You began to bob your head, taking another inch with each pass. Your hand worked in tandem with your mouth, stroking what you couldn't fit.

"Fuck, baby," Ben panted, one hand moving to tangle in your hair, putting it up into a ponytail. "That feels so good."

You hummed in response, the vibrations making him buck against you. You did your very best to try to take as much of his girthy cock as possible, your eyes watering a bit as you did so. You felt so seductive at this moment, the wetness growing in your lacy thong as you worked your boyfriend as if he paid for this.

As you continued your ministrations, alternating between long, slow licks and deep, rhythmic sucking, Ben's breathing became more ragged. His grip tightened in your hair as he guided you up and down his length as he fought to keep his hips still. You could feel Ben getting close, his cock twitching in your mouth.

"Y/N," he groaned, tugging gently at your hair. "I'm gonna-"

You pulled off with a soft pop, looking up at him through your lashes. "Not yet, baby. I want you inside me".

Ben groaned in frustration, but his eyes were dark with anticipation as you crawled back up his body. You straddled his hips, the lace of your panties brushing against his sensitive skin. His hands roamed your body, caressing every curve and dip before finding your waist. When he reached the waistband of your lace panties, he pushed it to the side, placing his thumb on your clit, and applying pressure. You had worked yourself soaking wet during the whole evening, your arousal was apparent.

You gently hovered and aligned him up to your core, before gently taking him in. You slowly sank onto Ben's length, savouring the delicious stretch as he filled you completely.

You both let out a simultaneous moan of pleasure as you bottomed out, your hands braced on his chest for support. The feeling of him stretching and filling you was amazing, it never failed to make your eyes roll and you took a moment to adjust, savouring the sensation.

Ben's fingers dug into your hips, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

"God, you feel amazing," he breathed, voice husky with desire.

You began to move, rolling your hips in a slow, sensual rhythm. Ben met your movements, thrusting up into you with perfect synchronicity. The room filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, skin slapping, soft moans, low groans, and whispered endearments.

As the pace quickened, Ben sat up, wrapping one arm around your waist to pull you closer, deeper if even possible. His other hand tangled in your hair, guiding you into a deep, passionate kiss. You could feel the cool metal of his chains hitting against your breasts with every thrust and roll. His touch on your skin was reverent as if he couldn't believe you were real.

You whispered sweet “i-love-yous” and precious words of endearment, as you felt yourself coming close. He pressed his lips to your forehead, before pressing his forehead against yours, both of you heaving and moaning.

You could feel the tension building, the heat coiling low in your belly as you rode Ben with increasing urgency. Ben's hands roamed your back, tracing the curve of your spine as you rode him, your hips rolling in a sensual rhythm that had you both panting. His thrusts became more erratic, his breathing ragged against your neck as he buried his face there, peppering kisses and gentle bites along your sensitive skin.

"You’re so beautiful, Y/N, so perfect." Ben groaned, his voice strained. "I'm close, baby. So close."

You nodded, moaning, unable to form words as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your release. "Me too," you managed to gasp. "Together".

You could feel the familiar tension building within you, your movements becoming more urgent. Ben's hand slipped between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and circling it with practised ease.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his breath hot against your ear. "Let go for me".

The added stimulation was all it took to push you over the edge. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, pleasure coursing through every nerve ending as you came, followed by Ben, who groaned, his face contorted as he felt himself fill you up. You cried out his name as waves of pleasure washed over you, your body trembling in his arms. Ben held you close, guiding you through your orgasm with gentle thrusts and whispered praise. You both stayed like that for some time before you climbed off him and collapsed on the bed.

“I hope you got everything you wanted, birthday boy” you gasped, catching your breath. Your legs still shook a bit and your body trembled as you lay there, looking up at your smiling boyfriend.

“You have no idea, I can’t wait to spend every birthday like this with you” he smiled, leaning down to peck kisses over your shoulder and neck.

"We'll celebrate like this every year, Ben. Happy birthday, my love" you hummed, pressing a kiss to his lips. With that, you both lay in each other’s arms whispering sweet adorations, happy to spend the next while by each other’s side.

#ben shelton #benshelton #ben shelton x reader

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justagalwhowrites · 10 months ago

Text

Run Rabbit Part 2

You, Joel and Tommy settle into your situation. A continuation of Run Rabbit Part 1, found on Tumblr here.

PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS. Written as part of the @romana-after-dark Dead Dove December event (but posted late because it's impossible for me to make a deadline at the moment apparently.)

Relationship: Joel Miller x Female Reader X Tommy Miller

Warnings: DUBCON (reader is a captive, participation might be enthusiastic but consent is dubious under the circumstances.) Raider!Joel; Raider!Tommy; Captive reader; Canon-typical violence; graphic depictions of violence; graphic depictions of injury; attempted SA (not by Joel or Tommy); Dom/Sub dynamic but not an established relationship; Dom-ish Joel; Brat tamer-ish Joel; Sub-ish reader; DDDNE; M/F/M threesome; unprotected P in V sex; Anal sex; Oral sex; No use of Y/N; Minors DNI 18+ Only. This part is filthy, OK? There are two dicks. They're put to good use. The end.

Length: 17.9k (If I knew what the fuck my problem is, I'd tell you, I swear.)

AO3 | Fic Masterlist | Full Masterlist | Previous Part

You were oddly relieved when Joel and Vince came back the next afternoon. Tommy heard them coming, one ear cocked toward the door when the front step creaked, and he turned back to you quickly.

“They ask, you’ve been tied up til a few hours ago,” he said. “All my idea to untie you, OK?”

“OK,” you said, frowning a little but not arguing with someone else taking the heat. You didn’t want to piss off Joel. He seemed to run this whole operation and you wanted to stay on his good side. At least until you could get the fuck away from here.

But he wasn’t upset that Tommy had untied you. He seemed to expect it. Even though he did bind your wrists again almost the second he was in the door.

“Here,” he said once you were tied again, digging in his pack. He pulled out a few bottles of shampoo and conditioner and body wash and hand lotion, setting them on the table in front of you. “Thought you could use that. Might make you more comfortable.”

You frowned, picking up the shampoo as best you could with your tied hands. You looked at the bottle for a moment, as though it was going to reveal something to you somehow.

“Why do you care if I’m comfortable?” You asked eventually.

Joel shrugged.

“Don’t need you to be uncomfortable. Need you to keep us alive. Don’t have to be miserable while you do it.”

The books kept you busy for a few days, the men sticking close to home for a while. Joel had come back with a nasty cut on his leg that you needed to treat after a few days of him trying to tough it out. He unbound your hands for that and Tommy brightened a bit when he did only to deflate when Joel tied you up once his leg was stitched up. About a week after they got back, the men hauled in water from the rain barrels outside, layers of ice forming on the top. They warmed some up over the fire and partially filled the bathtub, Tommy untying you as they did.

“Gotta be quick,” Joel said. “Don’t trust you to not take off on us but we’re movin’ tomorrow, may as well get clean while you can.”

“Moving where?” You asked as Tommy gently pulled the last of the rope from your wrists. You stretched and rotated your joints before you absently traced the indentations in your skin.

“Not for you to worry about,” Joel said. “Just you and me to start. Vince and Tommy have some shit to finish up down this way first. You’ll be slower to travel with.”

“I’d be faster if you untied me and I could keep my balance.”

Joel scoffed.

“It’d be faster if you got with the program, little girl. You’re mine now, not gonna just let you take the fuck off no matter how hard you try.”

You glared at him but followed him to the small bathroom when he guided you there.

“I’ll be right outside this door,” he said. “Don’t think about tryin’ anything.”

“Yeah, because I’ll just climb out through a pipe,” you muttered, closing the door behind you. They’d put a lantern in the room so you weren’t in the dark, at least.

You got undressed, folding your clothes and setting them on the toilet that was now totally useless as anything besides a chair or a shelf. The fabric was stiff with dirt and sweat and signs of life after you’d lived in it for weeks and you doubted it would ever be clean again.

The water was warm when you lowered yourself into it, barely coming up over your hips and the tops of your thighs, but enough to get clean. You scrubbed every inch of yourself and washed your hair twice, the water gradually shifting to a sickly gray. You didn’t mind. You felt clean for the first time in well over a month. The last time you’d had a bath, it had been warm enough to jump in a river without freezing half to death. You tried not to think about how long that had been.

But, when you got out, you realized that you didn’t have clean clothes in the bathroom with you and you weren’t about to put on the old ones now that you were clean.

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself.

“Tryin’ to cause trouble in there?” Joel asked from the other side of the door, making you jump.

“No,” you rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “I just didn’t think to grab clean clothes before coming in here and my old ones are disgusting.”

“Oh,” Joel said, voice oddly gentle. “Um… just… one minute.”

“Can’t go far,” you muttered, trying to dry yourself as best as you could with the scrap of towel that they’d left you in the bathroom while trying not to freeze.

To his credit, Joel was quick.

“Got my eyes closed,” he said. “Open the door.”

You clenched your jaw a little but obeyed, trying to hide your body behind the the door as best you could. Joel held jeans, a flannel, underwear, a bra and socks out to you in a haphazard pile in one hand, covering his eyes with the other. You snorted.

“What.”

“Nothing,” you said, taking the clothes as best you could. “Thank you.”

“Yup.”

You went to close the door but jumped and shrieked instead. Perched on the edge of the tub was large mouse - or was it a rat? - trying to work its way down into the water without sliding in. You jumped onto the sink on instinct, half of the clothes tumbling to the floor while you clutched the rest to your chest as Joel came bursting in.

“What!” He asked, looking around for some kind of threat in the tight space.

“Rat!” You yelled, pointing at the thing on the stained porcelain. “There, on the tub!”

“Shit,” he grabbed the bucket next to the tub and moved for it but it saw him coming and took off, darting between his legs and into the main part of the house where it was met with a sickening thud.

“Got it!” Tommy called and you watched as the tension left Joel’s shoulders.

Your body relaxed, too, even though you flinched a little at the thought that you’d been living here with that thing for who knows how long.

“You alright?” Joel asked, looking at you. His eyes trailed down over you before coming back to your face and you remembered, suddenly, that you were naked, just a pile of fabric on your lap and held to your chest to hide the parts you’d want to protect the most.

“Fine,” you said, clutching the clothes tighter to yourself, your heart beating faster than you wanted when you realized just how close Joel was to you. “Just… surprised me, is all.”

“Right,” he said, eyes dropping to your chest again before quickly coming back up. “Get dressed. Be quick.”

He stalked out, slamming the door behind him, your heart still thudding against your ribs.

You got dressed quickly, too jumpy to properly savor the feeling of clean clothes on your clean body. When you emerged from the bathroom, Joel was nowhere to be found. You frowned a little at that as Tommy came back inside, hauling more water to warm over the fire.

“He stepped out,” he said. “Don’t gotta tie you up quite yet.”

“Right,” you said, folding yourself into a corner of the couch. Vince watched you from his place at the small table, finger idly tracing over the blade of the knife he was sharpening. You narrowed your eyes. “Can I help you?”

“No,” he sat back a little further in his chair. “Just clean up good.”

He adjusted his pants and you tried to ignore the sickening feeling in your stomach when his eyes stayed on you as he did.

Tommy finished refilling the tub and glanced out the window where it was starting to get dark before he looked back to you.

“Why don’t we call it a night early,” he said. “C’mon.”

You looked at him skeptically for a moment.

“If you’re not in here for him to tie up…” Tommy trailed off.

“Bed time it is.”

You followed him deeper into the cabin, no more hint of fear there when you were alone with Tommy. He’d had every opportunity to hurt you. He hadn’t done it. You weren’t sure if you were just desperate for someone to be attached to or if you’d have always come to trust Tommy. But that didn’t much matter. You had what you had.

“Gotta promise not to take off on me,” he said, his voice low as he sat cross legged on the bed, grabbing the deck of cards from the bedside table. He started to shuffle. “He really won’t let me get away with goin’ easy on you if we gotta go run you down again.”

“Why do you listen to him?” You asked, keeping your voice quiet, too. “You’re brothers, right? Just talk to him… or take over.”

He scoffed.

“Did take over for a bit,” he said. “Right after the outbreak. Did the best I could, little rabbit, but… didn’t go well. Miracle either of us are alive. But he wasn’t in any shape to figure shit out so that left me…”

“What happened?” You frowned as Tommy started to deal. “Was he injured? Is that why he wants a nurse around so bad?”

Tommy was quiet for a moment, staring intently at his cards, a hard look on his face.

“He… he was hurt in the outbreak,” Tommy said eventually. “Still got some of the scars from it. He wasn’t able to make decisions for a while. Had to carry him for a bit, make sure he stayed breathing. I… I’m not cut out for that. Especially not with Joel. It’s better that he leads, trust me.”

You looked at your hand, not able to picture Joel as anything but what he was. Cold and calculating and always in control. Picturing him hurt and weak made your chest get tight. You weren’t sure why.

“Game’s Gin Rummy,” Tommy said, clearing his throat. “Usual stakes.”

When you could hear Joel talking to Vince in low tones in the living room, Tommy folded his hand and gestured to the bed before lying down. You took your spot next to him, hands folded over your stomach.

“Can’t I go with you instead?” You asked quietly, head turned to see him.

He looked over at you before for a moment before turning his eyes back to the ceiling, settling down into the pillow.

“No,” he whispered. “Joel has his reasons. Just… Behave yourself. He’s not gonna hurt you. I know he seems scary but he wouldn’t hurt a woman if he doesn’t have to. Don’t push him.”

When Joel came in, you pretended to be asleep. You felt his eyes on you, heard the grinding of his teeth and, eventually, the creak of the floorboards as he settled in to sleep.

The two of you got started early, your hands bound in front of you almost as soon as you were awake.

“Not gonna get away with so much without my brother around,” Joel muttered as he wound the rope around you. “Don’t try and push your luck, little girl.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you muttered, your attitude tempered by your meek tone. You were about to be alone in the woods with this man for who knows how long. You didn’t want to push him too far.

Tommy and Vince were outside when you left, getting ready to go do whatever it was they were going to do. You didn’t want to know. Tommy watched as you disappeared into the woods with his brother and you looked back over your shoulder at him, not ready to let go of the comfort you found in his soft, brown eyes.

“Shouldn’t get so attached, little girl,” Joel said after you’d been walking long enough that you were sure you were out of earshot.

“Attached to what?” You frowned, glancing back at him, breath rising in front of you.

“My brother,” he said. “Watch where you’re walkin’.”

You obeyed, looking ahead.

“What makes you think I’m attached?” You asked.

“Sure seem to spend a lot of time together if you’re not,” he said.

“What, you jealous?” You asked before you could stop yourself. You snapped your jaw shut after the words were out. You had to get your mouth under control. It got you in enough trouble before the world ended let alone when you were on the wrong side of a raider’s rifle.

Joel snorted.

“Just know Tommy,” he said. “Never found a broken thing he didn’t want to save and he just doesn’t know when to keep his fucking distance. Night of the outbreak I was bailin’ him out of jail because he beat up a guy who was roughin’ up a waitress. It’s a habit he needs to break if he’s gonna live through this shit. You’re just another symptom of his problem.”

That made your stomach clench. Part of you had thought - or maybe just hoped - that you meant something to Tommy. It bothered you that you didn’t. It bothered you more that it mattered. You shouldn’t care, beyond the fact that his affection for you might help you stay alive.

But, with Zach gone - Zach, who likely hadn’t cared all that much for you, either, given how he handed you over to these men so easily - you had no one besides Tommy. You’d never had no one before. Being so utterly alone was horrifying in a way that even cordyceps weren’t. You weren’t sure you could handle it.

“What makes you think I’m something he’d need to save?” You asked instead.

“Little girl…”

“Woman.”

“Little girl,” he said again. “All alone after traveling with some guy who was willing to trade her pain for his life? What about that don’t need savin’, desperate to know what I fuckin’ missed.”

“What’s wrong with a little attachment?” You asked instead of answering. “What, do you not have friends? No wife or girlfriend?”

“Attachment gets you fuckin’ killed, that’s what’s wrong with attachment,” he snapped, voice more bitter than you were used to hearing, enough that you looked back at him. His face was hard but his eyes were more raw than you’d ever seen them, the pain sharp and harsh and full. You stopped and faced him, searching those eyes for a moment. It was easier to see the resemblance with Tommy now that he wasn’t so closed off and guarded, the moment of weakness bringing his latent humanity to the surface.

“What happened to you?” You asked quietly, brows drawn together as you traced the planes of his face with your eyes. You’d never really looked at him before, not like this. There had always been a hardness to him that made you look away, like he was dangerous to even look at too closely. It reminded you, now that you thought about it, of something you’d read once about Chernobyl. How the nuclear material from the reactor was so radioactive it melted film and destroyed robots that tried to investigate, let alone what it did to mortal bodies. So poisonous nothing could survive being close enough to really look.

But, in this moment, he wasn’t that. He was just a man who had seen and felt and been taken apart too much. There were scars on his otherwise smooth skin, the most prominent at his nose and temple and you had the strangest urge to reach out and run your fingers over them, to cradle his face and trace your thumbs over the rise of his cheekbones and tell him to close his eyes for a while, to let it all go for a while.

You weren’t really thinking when you raised your bound hands to touch his skin but he didn’t let you get that far, snatching your wrists out of the air and ripping you harshly to him, making you yelp and stumble.

“I am not your fucking business,” he snarled. “And you’ll keep your goddamn hands to yourself unless I tell you otherwise.”

He shoved you back and you almost tripped over a root but you managed to stay standing, tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

“Move,” he ordered. “Eyes on the fuckin’ trail.”

You looked at him for another second, the cold cruelty of him back in his eyes. You sniffed but obeyed, turning and following the trail.

You didn’t say anything else until you stopped for lunch, in a valley that hadn’t gotten snow yet. He pushed you down onto a log and stood over you, broad and domineering.

“I go take a piss, you’ll stay put, right?” He asked. “Or do I need to do that right in front of you to keep you from fucking around?”

“I’ll stay put,” you muttered, not looking at him.

He went into the trees and you sat on the log, staring into space. For some reason, you felt - for the first time - that this was going to be your life now. That you’d always be with Joel and Tommy and Vince and that you’d be at their mercy forever, a tool in their arsenal of pain as they took whatever they wanted from what they called their territory. You’d be trapped and never have a chance at a semblance of a life again.

The tears came even though you didn’t want them to, spilling over and feeling hot on your cheeks against the cold air. You heard Joel start to return through the brush and you tried to will yourself to stop fucking crying but you couldn’t manage it, your body mourning the loss of any kind of life you’d hoped to have.

“The fuck is your problem?” Joel asked as you sniffled and dried your eyes on your sleeve as best you could with your bound hands.

“What do you think?” You snapped, voice wobbly and wet. “This is my life now, isn’t it? Until the day I die - which will probably happen when you get bored with me or decide I’m more trouble than I’m worth and shoot me for it - I’m just some… some… some thing that you haul places and use when you need and I’ll never have another friend or have anyone care about me ever again and I think you can fucking deal with me being upset about that since you’re the one doing it, OK? Just leave me alone.”

You pulled your knees to your chest as best you could from your place on the log and tried to bury your face there, anything to keep Joel from seeing your pain.

A few moments later, you felt the log shift below you and Joel nudged you gently.

“C’mon,” he said, voice oddly soft. “Need to eat something. Got a ways to go yet today.”

You sniffed.

“Not hungry.”

Joel was quiet for a moment.

“We can wait a bit,” he said eventually. “Making better time than I expected.”

You ignored him, still trying to force yourself to stop crying.

“Not gonna kill you,” he said.

“What?” You pulled your head from where you’d buried it, sniffling a bit.

“Not gonna kill you,” he said again. You frowned at him. “Just… you said you thought you were gonna die when I got bored with you or… I’m not gonna kill you. Well, you try to kill me or Tommy I might. Or you get bit. Or take off on us. But… short of that, not planning to kill you.”

“Great,” you sniffed. “Lemme know when plans change I guess…”

Joel huffed a small laugh.

“Not gonna change,” he said. “S’not that I really like killing people. Got better hobbies than that. And I try to avoid killing people who don’t deserve it and people I don’t have to kill. You don’t deserve it so I’m not going to kill you unless I have to, it’s simple as that.”

You looked at him for a moment, your tears slowing.

“Why do you do it then?” You asked. “The stealing and the hurting and the killing? If you don’t like it…”

Joel looked at you, his eyes searching yours again, a hint of the openness that was in them before.

“I’m not losing my little brother,” he said eventually. “So I’m going to do whatever I need to do to make sure he stays alive. Right now, that means hurtin’ and killin’ more than I really want. S’OK. I’ll pay that price, long as he stays alive.”

You watched him, eyes trailing over those scars again.

“You really think that’s the best way?” You asked softly. “All that killing? All that hurt? It’s got to hurt you, too, do you really think…”

“Better than the alternative,” he cut you off. “Shit like handing ourselves over to FEDRA for them to lock up in a fuckin’ QZ or being sitting ducks for other people willin’ to hurt and kill first. Better this way, little girl. Trust me on that. Keeps him alive, that’s the important thing. That’s why you’re here. Something happens, it’s not a death sentence. All that matters.”

You nodded slowly and sniffed a little. Joel reached forward, his hands still seeming so big, and gently brushed his thumbs below your eyes, drying your tears.

“You’re alright,” he said softly, holding your cheek in his palm. “S’not so bad. You’re mine now. Take care of what’s mine.”

You just looked at him, his eyes on yours for a moment, before he cleared his throat and pulled out the bag of jerky, holding it out to you. You tried to reach your bound hands inside but the opening was too small and you made a frustrated noise when he laughed a little.

“Hold on, I got it.”

He pulled a piece out and held it out to you. But when you went to take it, he pulled it away and you frowned as he put it just inches away from your lips.

“Open.”

You kept your eyes locked on his as you obeyed and he put the salty meat on your tongue slowly, pressing it down into the muscle. You waited until he took his hand back to close your mouth and you chewed, holding his gaze as you did. He got out another piece of jerky, holding it in his thick fingers until you swallowed. He held it up like he did before and you let your mouth fall open so he could feed it to you, his movements disorientingly delicate for a man so large.

He fed you that way until you had your fill of the jerky and he pulled out an apple and a knife, pressing the blade into the crisp flesh of it and cutting a slender wedge. He brought the first piece to your lips, the fruit balancing on his thumb and the harsh metal.

“Open,” he said, something low and gravely in his voice. You obeyed and he put the apple on your tongue, the juice of it brushing your lips and making you lick them as he pulled the knife away. He cut a slice off of his own and you watched as his mouth slipped dangerously close to the sharpened edge. He kept his eyes on you as he brought the knife back to the apple and cut into it again and you opened your mouth for him to put the slice inside, the blade that had just been against his lips brushing your own.

When it was gone, you just looked at him for a moment, watching as his thumb ran over the blade, wiping away all signs of the fruit on the knife before putting it away.

“Come on,” he said, getting up and grabbing a handful of fabric at the nape of your neck as though you were a disobedient kitten, hefting you to your feet. “Want to clear at least 10 more miles before we stop for the night.”

“Where are we going?” You asked as he picked up the overstuffed pack that was carrying all your supplies and his. “Why couldn’t we just stay where we were?”

“Not a great place to ride out winter,” he said. “Other spot’s closer to things we’ll need but far enough away that we shouldn’t run into much trouble. Stayed there last winter, too. Worked well enough.”

“And you’re, what, just hoping no one’s taken it since you left?” You asked as he nudged you forward. You looked back over your shoulder at him as he shrugged.

“Just take it back if they did,” he said. “Shouldn’t get there ’til tomorrow night, anyway. Expect Tommy and Vince round midday the day after. Watch where you’re goin’, can’t have you breaking your fuckin’ leg out here…”

“Tomorrow?” You frowned before looking straight ahead. “Where are we stopping tonight?”

“Somewhere that looks good,” he said. “We’ll be sleeping rough.”

“Do we have the gear for that?” You asked looking back at him to see him glare at you before you looked forward again. “It’s cold…”

“Thought you were some outdoorsy thing, little girl,” he said. “Can’t handle a little cold?”

You hated being cold. You didn’t say that.

“More worried about you,” you replied. “You drop dead on me out here, makes my life a whole lot harder. Have to try to cut myself out of these damn ropes…”

“Not dropping dead on you,” he said. “Keep goin’, don’t waste your energy talking to me…”

You rolled your eyes a little but pressed on, putting one foot in front of the other and trying to ignore the imposing man at your back.

Joel called for a stop hours later at a small indentation in a cliffside that was protected from wind. He set out the bed rolls and fed you again, just like he had at lunch, each piece of food going from his hands to your lips.

“Can’t we have a fire?” You asked, trying not to shiver as the sun set. Joel looked at you, incredulous. “What?”

“Why do you think we can’t have a fucking fire?” He asked, brows raised.

You sighed.

“I guess it might attract people…”

“It would attract people,” he corrected you. “With Tommy and Vince around I wouldn’t give a shit but you? You’re a liability. Don’t much want to deal with trying to keep us both alive on my own. No fire.”

You tucked your hands between your thighs and shivered a little. Joel raised his brows at you.

“What?” You snapped. “I’m cold. It’s cold. Sue me.”

“Don’t think suin’ you would do much good nowadays.”

“Shut up.”

He snorted and laughed a little.

“Hold on,” he said, getting up and dragging his sleeping bag over next to yours before settling on top of it, sitting close to you. He held his arm out and you frowned. “Come on. Best way to get warm is to get close. Won’t bite and you’ll live, promise.”

You glared at him but tucked yourself against his side all the same. He was right, it was warmer there. Joel seemed to just emanate heat, even through his thick suede coat. He even smelled warm, like cedar and sharp spice and crisp apple. You wedged your hands between your thigh and his and Joel frowned.

“The hell are you that cold?” He muttered. “Feel like ice even through my damn jeans…”

He pulled off the glove on the hand that wasn’t on your arm with his teeth and enveloped your hands in his much larger one. He pulled them to his mouth and breathed into your tight fingers, the heat of his breath seeping into your skin.

“Don’t think we got more gloves but we can put some socks on your hands or somethin’ tomorrow,” he said. “No good to me if you lose your fuckin’ fingers.”

“I could put them in my pockets if you just untied me,” you said, an almost teasing edge to your voice.

“No good to me if you take off, either,” he said. You could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “Can’t trust you yet.

“You think I can trust you?” You asked, looking up at him as best you could from your position tucked against his side.

“No,” he said. “But I don’t need you to. You don’t get a choice here, little girl, I do. Don’t matter if you trust me.”

“It’d be easier if I did,” you said quietly.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Imagine so.”

You drifted off there, tucked against his side, and when you woke up, you were curled into his warm body, his arm securely around your middle, sleeping bag around you both. His breath was warm against your skin, his nose buried in your hair, his broad chest firm at your back. You weren’t sure what to do and were trying to figure out when he stirred, groaning a little as he adjusted his arm before sitting up.

“Gotta get you better cold weather gear,” he muttered. “Don’t know how the fuck you survived last winter…”

“Stayed to the south,” you replied. “Which you should do, too, by the way…”

“Lot more competition to the south,” he said. “Don’t feel like havin’ a big crew. Works better to stay up this way with just us.”

“Probably fine when you’re a furnace,” you muttered.

“Get moving,” he nudged you. “You’ll be warmer when you’re walking.”

You rolled your eyes but obeyed, getting out of the way enough that Joel could get up and pull you to your feet. He put socks over your bound hands and you tried not to laugh.

He sighed.

“What now?”

“Most fucked up sock puppets…” You wriggled your hand into the right position as best you could to give it a mouth and he rolled his eyes.

“Should never have told you I’m not planning on killin’ you unless you make me,” he muttered. “Just be insufferable now.”

You smirked a little as you walked and you felt like you made decent time that morning. Joel fed you again when you stopped for lunch, tracing his thumb over the plush swell of your lower lip to wipe away a drop of juice from the apple, but you didn’t talk like you had the day before. Beyond the intimacy of him feeding you, his eyes lingering on your lips and throat, he was distant, teeth grinding and looking off into the trees when he wasn’t watching you.

It was mid-afternoon when you heard it, the haggard pants and inhuman gargle of infected.

“Joel,” you whispered, whipping back to look at him. He grabbed your shoulder and all but threw you behind him, his rifle raised. You pressed tight against his back. “Joel, I don’t have a gun, I can’t…”

“Hush,” he said, hardly glancing back at you. “Told you, you’re mine and I protect what’s mine. You’ll be OK.”

You winced and tried not to cry, pressing your forehead into Joel’s back. He was warm. Solid. Safe. You had to trust that he was going to take care of you, you didn’t have another choice.

There was a snarl at your left and Joel turned so fast it made your head spin, his left leg coming back and catching against yours, forcing you to move with him so you were still protected by his large, broad body as he faced the infected head on.

The crack of the gun made you flinch and you tried to focus on the feel of Joel as you moved with him as he backed up, staying where his legs guided you, keeping you tucked safely against him as he fired round after round, the snarling getting louder and closer until, suddenly, you felt the harsh grasp of a hand on your elbow. It ripped you back into a body that was more like your own - about the same height, none of the almost inhuman broadness of the man in front of you - and the thing snarled.

“Joel!” You shrieked, trying your best to rip yourself away from it as it pulled your arms toward its mouth so hard it almost dislocated your shoulder. “Joel, please!”

The infected sank its teeth into your arm but didn’t penetrate the thick coat as you tried to rip yourself free. For a moment, you thought you had, the pressure from its jaw letting up. But it just roared, gripping you tighter and pulling you closer, searching for skin it could reach.

For a moment, as you watched what used to be a human woman stretch her open mouth toward your throat, you were almost surprised that this was how it was going to end for you.

It shouldn’t be a surprise. It was the apocalypse, after all. It should make sense that the thing that made the world end took you out, too. But it had felt all but impossible for so long. Like you’d survived so much, worked so hard, pushed for so long that it wasn’t coming for you anymore. Like, eventually, things were going to slot into place and you were going to have a semblance of a life the the reality you now called home. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. You weren’t supposed to end like this.

The butt of Joel’s rifle snapped you out of your own head, the stock coming down hard on the woman’s head and she shrieked, shoving you aside so that you fell flat on your back, and shifting her attention to Joel. He thrust her back and quickly snapped his gun around, shooting her in the head. She dropped where she stood and Joel lowered the gun ever so slightly, breathing heavy, surveying the woods around you both for any impending threats. After a moment, he slung the rifle on his back and all but ran to you, dropping to one knee at your side, his brown eyes wide as they ranged over you again and again.

“Hey,” he said once he’d looked you over, his gaze locking on yours. “You’re OK. Take a deep breath for me, you’re OK, I’ve got you, you’re OK…”

You realized then that your breaths were coming in short, harsh gasps, that your whole body was shaking. Joel pulled off a glove and took your face almost harshly in his hand.

“Look at me,” he said, giving you a rough shake as he did. “Just me. Infected are gone, there were just six of them and I got ‘em all. You’re OK, not bit. Neither am I. It’s OK. Just you and me. I’ve got you, just focus on me.”

You nodded in his grip, tears stinging your eyes, but you couldn’t seem to calm your breathing down. You just weren’t getting enough air and your body couldn’t calm down enough to slow your breaths. Your head spun and your bound hands found Joel’s bicep, fingertips digging into the muscle and the thickness of his coat. Something made a nearby bush rustle and your eyes darted, wide and frantic, not able to turn your head in Joel’s grip.

“Hey!” His voice was sharper, your eyes shooting to him again, afraid you’d pissed him off now. But he didn’t look mad, he looked worried. His eyes were still wide and they were warm and you had the passing thought that, maybe, dying wouldn’t be as bad if you got to look in those eyes when you went. “There you go, keep lookin’ at me, I’ve got you.” The hand that wasn’t clutched onto your head, fingertips clutching into your hair and skull, went to your chest. His palm pressed over your breasts, near your sternum, fingers splaying wide over your skin. “Gonna get you to breathe deep, just stick with me, OK? Out first…” He pressed down with firm, even pressure and you emptied your lungs. Just as your panic was going to kick into high gear, his hand relaxed. “And in, pull that air down low, OK? Focus on it, focus on me, follow my hand with your chest, you’re OK.”

You did your best to obey, pulling air into you and trying desperately to fill the empty spaces inside yourself, your chest chasing the heat of his callused palm.

“Out now,” he said, his voice so calm, adding pressure to his hand again and pushing the air from your lungs until they were empty. “Good, doing good, in this time.”

You nodded and breathed deep, chasing his palm, and started feeling calmer then. Your heart wasn’t beating quite so fast, the feeling that you were suffocating inside your skin fading.

“Feeling better?” He asked, his grip on you loosening. You just nodded. “Gonna help you sit up now…” He pulled you up, one of his large hands in the middle of your back, the other on your bound hands. “Take another deep breath for me.”

You obeyed and he carefully guided you so that your back was against a tree.

“Catch your breath,” he said. “We’ll take a few minutes, then move on. This time of year, shouldn’t be a much infected around here. Don’t think we’ve got more comin’.”

You nodded and breathed slow and deep, closing your eyes, concentrating on the prickle of the cold air in your lungs and then the warm fog of it rising in front of you.

“Think you’re ready to move?” Joel asked after a few minutes. You opened your eyes. He was still there, right next to you, watching you closely with those soft brown eyes.

“Yeah,” you said, voice shaky. “I’m… I’ve never been that close to one before, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have panicked…”

“S’OK,” Joel said. “They’re… well, they’re fuckin’ scary. It’s alright.”

You watched him for a moment and frowned a little.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You asked quietly.

His brows knitted together, frowning back.

“Only as mean as you make me be, little girl. Never wanted to hurt you. Just wanted to keep you and I’ll be as mean as I need to keep you.”

He stood up and took your elbow, pulling you to your feet.

“Should get moving,” he said. “Got a miles to go yet and we don’t know what we’re walking into when we get there. Let’s go.”

You stayed close to Joel the rest of the hike, never going more than a minute or two without looking back over your shoulder to make sure he was still close even though you could hear him at your back.

It was nightfall when you reached the cabin that Joel had mentioned. The setting was idyllic, you could see why he’d want to set up long term. There were no obvious paths leading to the cabin that you could see, Joel routing you off an apparent dead end to the trail around through the brush and over a stream to get to it. The land around it was dense with trees to the point that it was hard to even see the cabin until you were at the right angle. The woodpile on the front porch was low and the windows were dark. Joel tucked you into a bush at the edge of the clearing made for what had once been a drive for the cabin.

“Stay put,” he said. “Don’t make me run you down.”

He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he crept closer to the cabin, moving slowly and quietly up to the front door with his gun at the ready. He checked something at the hinge of the door and relaxed a little when he did, slinging his rifle onto his back and coming back for you in the brush.

“No one’s been here since we left in April,” he said, helping you through the rougher parts of the ground. “Should be safe. Left some firewood last time, enough to last us a few days at least…”

“We can have a fire?” Your face lit up.

Joel smiled a little.

“We can have a fire,” he said. “Can’t let you fuckin’ freeze to death, you’re useless if you’re dead.”

“Or frostbitten,” you said. “Also useless if I’m frostbitten.” You could almost hear him roll his eyes.

Joel built a fire and you sat in front of it, warming your hands at the flames and luxuriating in the heat as he went about setting up other parts of the cabin. You just checked to make sure you knew where he was every minute or two, being far from him making your stomach churn and your thoughts race. If Joel was far away, anything could happen and you’d be helpless to stop it. Without Joel, you’d be one of those things by now. Without Joel, you weren’t safe.

It was a ludicrous thought, some part of you knew that. He was the reason you were out here to begin with. He was the reason you were so spectacularly useless in a fight right now (not that you’d ever been particularly good at brawling.)

But he had protected you like no one else had. He’d protected you from Vince’s threats when you’d run away and he had every reason to just let the other man kill you. He’d put himself between you and half a dozen infected when he could have just let them have you while he picked them off. He took care of you, he looked out for you. You wouldn’t need nearly as much of either if he’d just left you with Zach but Zach had been fine trading you away to protect himself. Who knows how long you’d have lasted with him. And, while your survival skills were fine before the apocalypse, they were the kind that let you survive in the wilderness for a few weeks. They weren’t the kind that taught you how to fight monsters both human and inhuman. Joel might have literally tied you down but him and Tommy were the safest you could imagine being right now.

The thought made you dig your nails into your palms and you tried not to focus on it as you stared at the flames as they chewed at the wood in the fireplace. But you weren’t able to ignore it for long, not when you realized you hadn’t heard or seen Joel in several minutes.

“Joel?” You asked the darkness of the cabin. There was no response.

You got up and crept toward the back of the structure, toward the rooms you hadn’t been in yet. But you couldn’t bring yourself to open any of the doors.

“Joel?” You whispered. You gave him a second to reply and then headed for the front door.

Night had fully fallen and you could only see what was illuminated by the glow of the fire through the window, the tree cover too dense to let in much light from the moon. Did you dare leave the porch? You weren’t trying to run away but Joel didn’t know that. One of the exceptions to the “not going to kill you” thing was you running. But what if he got hurt? What if infected showed up at the cabin?

What if you were alone?

“Joel?”

“Thought you were cold?” His voice appeared from the side of the porch, making you jump. He walked around to the steps, water bottles in hand.

“You were gone a while,” you said, indignant.

Joel scoffed.

“I was gone all of five minutes.”

“It was longer than that.”

“Well, I had to clear out the water pump, hadn’t been used in a bit,” he said. “Got it goin’ good, well’s still set…” He trailed off and considered you for a second, brows raised. “Were you worried, little girl?”

It was your turn to scoff.

“No,” you rolled your eyes and looked toward the glow of the fire inside. “I just…”

“You were worried,” he smirked. “Don’t worry, not gonna let the monsters get ya. Head inside.”

“Only monster I’m worried about here is you,” you snapped. You regretted it almost as soon as you said it. Joel’s cocky smile sank enough that the dimple on his cheek disappeared and some of the softness left his eyes.

“Get inside,” he said. “Before I give you somethin’ to worry about.”

You sat by the fire, trying to check on what Joel was doing without showing that you were watching him. Eventually, he came and grabbed your elbow, pulling you sharply to your feet with a small yelp.

“We’ll figure out sleeping arrangements once Tommy and Vince get here,” he said. “For now, we’re bunking together. Don’t trust you to behave otherwise.”

He didn’t give you a chance to argue as he dragged you along behind him to one of the back rooms you’d been too afraid to open before. There was a king bed inside, made up with plush looking blankets and sheets. Joel helped you get your boots off but otherwise, you climbed in bed fully clothed on the side away from the door. He lay down, his back to you. You were pretty sure his arms were crossed and his back look tense.

“Joel?” You said softly.

“Hm.”

“When they get here,” you said, still whispering even though there was no one else to hear you. “Please don’t make me sleep with Vince. Please. I’ll do whatever you want but…”

“Not gonna make you share with him,” he cut you off, looking back over his shoulder toward you for a moment before looking straight ahead again. “It’ll be me or Tommy, not him.”

“OK.”

You were quiet for a few minutes but you were pretty sure Joel was still awake when you spoke again.

“Joel?”

He sighed.

“Hm.”

“Can I sleep closer?” You asked softly. He half rolled to try to look at you in the dark. “I just… I’m cold. You’re warm.”

He sighed again but rolled onto his back and held his arm out.

“C’mere.”

You scooted closer until your head was against his chest and he put his arm loosely around you. You took a deep breath and sighed contentedly, not able to help it.

“Surprised you’d want to be this close to a monster,” he said. He meant it to be wry, you could tell that, but there was a twinge on the last word that gave him away.

“Well,” you said, adjusting your tied wrists as best you could. “Maybe… Monsters aren’t all bad. And some are warm. So.”

He sighed.

“Go to sleep.”

Just as you were about to drift off, you felt his arm tighten around your shoulders, pulling you in closer.

Tommy and Vince made it the next day with more supplies than they’d left the last place with. But, while Tommy had made it in one piece, Vince wasn’t so lucky. His arm had been dislocated and he’d taken a knife to the arm. Joel untied you and you needed Joel and Tommy’s help to position Vince to pop his arm back into place. You made him a sling and treated the wound on his arm, doing your best to keep it from getting infected before stitching it closed.

You weren’t sure how bad the injury really was without the proper diagnostic tools but it seemed like Vince was making it out to be more than it was. You kept checking for signs of infection because he seemed to be constant pain, enough that Tommy and Joel were doing the bulk of the work to set up the cabin to ride out the winter. You helped where you could but Joel insisted on binding your hands again once Vince was patched up and you’d gotten cleaned up from the trip, so your skills were limited.

The four of you had been at the cabin for more than a week when you noticed a shift. You still weren’t party to the discussions the men had, the three of them sending you behind closed doors while they conducted business, but you were certain that Joel and Tommy were getting ready to leave again.

When you went to bed with Tommy that night, he confirmed your suspicions and your stomach dropped.

“Can I come?” You asked. He looked at you for a moment, brows raised. “I won’t be much good at patching you up from afar…”

“Hard to travel with you when we gotta keep you tied up,” he said, going back to gathering extra socks.

“I’ll be good,” you said quickly. “I’ll do whatever you want, just bring me…”

“Why do you want to come along so bad, Rabbit?” He asked. “Didn’t think you’d much want to be there when we raid groups…”

“I don’t care,” you said quickly, even though the thought of watching them kill someone the way they’d killed Zach made your stomach turn. “I’ll behave, just don’t leave me here with…”

Tommy’s head whipped around, his eyes narrowed.

“Vince do somethin’ to you?” He asked. “He say something?”

“No,” you shook your head, clenching your jaw. “Well, nothing big but I just… I have a bad feeling about him. I don’t trust him.”

“And you trust me and Joel?” He asked, skeptical.

“Not really,” you replied. “But… more than him.”

“He knows not to touch you,” Tommy said. “We’ll only be gone a few days, week at most. We know a place only about a day from here where we can reliably find what we need. Shouldn’t take too long…”

Your eyes went wide. A week. A week with just Vince. That was so much longer than you’d realized it would be. How were you supposed to avoid him for a week?

“Can’t you stay and Joel goes with Vince?” You pleaded. “Or you and Vince go and leave Joel here? Just…”

“Can’t,” Tommy said. “He’s still hurt and we’re low on supplies, we need to go now and we can’t risk bringin’ him. You really that afraid of him?”

You tightened your jaw for a moment before nodding once.

Tommy sighed.

“Well, he’s hurt. Don’t think he’s gonna do much to you when he can’t use one arm. You’ll be OK. Next run we’ll figure out somethin’ else, OK?”

You dug your nails into your palms.

“Yeah,” you said. “OK.”

Joel and Tommy left the next morning. You stood on the porch and watched their path long after they’d made it out of sight before sighing and going back inside.

“Just you and me now,” he smirked from his position on the couch. “You’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You didn’t answer. You just looked at him for a moment before heading back to the room you stayed in every night with Joel or Tommy and curled up in the middle of the big bed, the binds on your wrists feeling worse than they had in weeks.

For the first two days, it was fine. Mostly. You generally avoided Vince, the man humming Run Rabbit anytime you were within earshot, making your whole body tense. Instead, you were just hanging out in the bedroom and sleeping or reading or just staring at the grain of the wood walls wondering if this was just what your life would be now. What if something happened and Joel and Tommy didn’t come back? What if Vince just left you here, tied up, forever?

What if you were alone?

The third day, you started getting suspicious of Vince’s claimed injury. Given what you knew, he should be doing much better at this point but he’d kept claiming he was in too much pain to even use his arm. It wasn’t impossible, of course, and it was hard to see what kind of intervention he would need in a cabin without the proper tools, so you were hoping that more time did the trick. But when you emerged from the bedroom that afternoon to use the bathroom, you found him in the kitchen, both arms stretched to reach something on a top shelf. You frowned and stood there, waiting for him to notice you. When he turned around, he jumped before smirking, putting his arm back in its sling.

“Aren’t you a sneaky thing?” He asked, prowling over and standing just inches away from you. “See something you like?”

“Arm looks like it’s doing better,” you replied, nodding to it. “Want me to look it over?”

“Still hurts like a bitch,” he replied. “Just needed two hands so I lived with it for a minute. That OK with you, Florence Nightingale?”

You shrugged.

“Doesn’t matter to me if you fuck up your arm,” you replied. “Be my guest.”

You ducked around him to go to the outhouse but his hand closed around your arm, yanking you back into him with a small yelp.

“Think you’d be more invested,” he said, his face close to yours. “Only useful as because you can patch people up. Think the Millers will be so keen to keep you around if you can’t even do that right?”

“Right,” you said. “Maybe I should be worse at it so they let me go.”

“You really think they’d let you go?” He laughed. “You stupid girl. They’d kill you. Not gonna just let you wander around knowing where they like to hide out and what they have. You stop being useful, you’re dead. Just hope they let me have some fun with you first.”

You wanted to throw Joel’s words back in his face, that he said he wasn’t going to kill you, not unless you made him. But you weren’t sure how much you could trust any of it. It felt like you could believe what Joel told you but he was keeping you tied up in a cabin in the woods. How much could you trust anything he said?

Instead, you just pulled your arm away.

“I have to pee.”

He laughed once.

“Don’t go far,” he said. “Hate to have to run you down out there…”

He started humming Run Rabbit again.

The next afternoon, you knew he was lying about the arm.

You emerged from the bedroom to find something to eat and found him sitting at the small table, bag of jerky and a bottle of whiskey in front of him, sling hanging off the back of the chair.

“Good to see my medicinal skills are up to snuff,” you said derisively, going for the cabinet you knew held the jerky. “Guess I’ll live to bother you another day.”

“Know what?” He snapped, shoving back from the table and stomping over to you, closing the gap between you in just two steps. “Think I’m getting tired of your smart fucking mouth…”

You realized suddenly just how big Vince was. He was shorter than Joel so you didn’t notice it most of the time but, when he had you pressed back against the counter as you shrank back from him, you were suddenly very aware that he was large, more broad than he was expressly tall. Definitely big enough to do serious damage if he set his mind to it. His hand whipped forward and latched onto your jaw, his fingertips digging into your cheek, grip so tight you were worried he was going to dislocate it.

“Sorry,” you said quickly. “I’m sorry, I’ll…”

“Think I’m about done dealing with your shit,” he growled, the smell of liquor harsh on his breath. “Think it’s about time I got my due.”

He pulled you around, hand still on your jaw, and shoved you back, making you stumble over a chair. You scrambled back from him, looking quickly back over your shoulder, trying desperately to keep from falling.

“You don’t want to do this,” you said, looking back to him. “You really don’t want to piss off Joel and Tommy like that, please…”

He laughed once, darkly.

“You think they want you to themselves that bad?” He asked, prowling closer. “Nah, I don’t think they’ll much care. Besides, maybe I’ll just have my fun with you then kill you. Tell ‘em you took off. You already tried it once…”

“No,” you shook your head, trying to ignore how your throat clenched tight as he drew near. “No, you don’t…”

“Think I do,” he said as you backed into the couch. He was only about a foot away from you. Your eyes darted toward the door and you made the call, ducking below his groping arm and running for it.

He grabbed at you but you dodged it, all but ripping the door off its hinges as you ran out into the cold afternoon air. Dusk was on the horizon and you were going to be stuck running from him in the dark with your hands tied but it was better than the alternative.

You heard the gunshot a split second before you felt it, the force of the bullet sending you sprawling forward as you screamed in pain. There was a second of shock, of disbelief, as you lay face down in the dirt. You felt the warm wetness of your blood before you felt the sharp pain of a hole being blown through your body. You rolled onto your uninjured side and tried to assess it as best you could, not really able to reach the wound because of how your hands were tied. It was on the right side of your body, so far to the side that you thought it might have missed most major organs and just caught skin and muscle and fat. But you couldn’t be sure.

You tried to shove yourself up, side screaming in pain, the wound pulling, the muscle ragged, but Vince was on you too fast. He shoved you onto your back and kicked your legs apart before kneeling between them.

“No!” You shrieked, trying to scramble back from him but he grabbed you harshly at your waist, his fingers digging into your open wound and making you scream in pain.

“You’re mine now,” he panted over you. “This’ll be a lot easier on you if you just cooperate…”

You tried to shove him back but couldn’t get leverage, not with your hands bound. A strangled sob slipped from you as you tried to wrest yourself away but it didn’t work, Vince just slamming you down into the dirt before punching you across the face. The blow made your brain rattle in your skull and you lay there, blinking in shock for a moment as he started to fumble with your pants.

“Help!” You screamed, voice thick and wet. “Joel, Tommy!”

“Shut up,” he seethed over you, trying to force your pants down over your hips. You ignored him, still screaming, legs kicking uselessly. He punched you again and you went still and quiet, head swimming. “Shut up you stupid fuckin’ girl. Take what I give you and you’ll fuckin’ like it.”

“Joel!” You shrieked. “Tommy!”

It was desperate, you knew that. They said they’d be gone close to a week, it had just been days. This was it.

Vince’s hand latched around your throat, shoving you down into the earth. You tried to breathe around his fingers but you couldn’t manage it, his grip too tight. You clawed at his arms with your tied hands and tried to gulp in air, your vision starting to fade.

“Told you you should’ve cooperated,” he panted over you. “Should’ve fuckin’ listened…”

You could hardly see his face over you anymore, the world seeming far away, when the weight of him disappeared and you could breathe.

***

Tommy wasn’t thrilled about leaving you behind.

He hadn’t been thrilled about it before you talked to him. He’d been trusting Vince less and less over the last few weeks. He’d never been Tommy’s favorite person but he had decent enough skills, generally listened when Joel told him what to do and it was helpful to always outnumber pairs when hunting.

But ever since they’d taken you, Tommy was questioning whether keeping him around was smart.

Of course, he’d been conflicted about taking you from the beginning. He hadn’t gotten into this to take fucking captives, he’d gotten into this because it seemed like the only way to stay alive was to take. There wasn’t enough to go around so some people were going to have to go without. That’s just the way it worked. He just wanted to make sure the people going without weren’t him and Joel.

Survival of the fittest, after all.

But he understood why Joel had taken you. You had valuable skills, valuable enough that you were worth feeding and monitoring. It was worth it to go outside the norm for you. Even though he hated keeping you tied up. But he figured he’d wear Joel down on that eventually.

He didn’t like leaving you behind like this before you’d talked to him about Vince and all but begged him to bring you along. You had to really distrust Vince to want to come on a hunt like this. It made him uneasy.

So he was relieved when he and Joel had stumbled upon a small group of men traveling just two days after they’d left the cabin. It was a good haul, enough to set them up for a few months and get them through a stretch of winter. They’d need to head out again at some point - or just hunt and trap animals near the cabin if it looked like the ammo, fuel and battery supply would hold out - but they had some security for a while.

“I really think she’s gonna like some of what we got,” Tommy said as they were getting close to the cabin again. “Think the books are up her alley and they had medical supplies. Legit ones. That’ll make her happy.”

“Can’t get too attached,” Joel said, not for the first time. Tommy rolled his eyes. Joel glanced over at him. “I’m serious. It’s a risk. You’re gettin’ too involved with her and can’t afford you making stupid fuckin’ choices because you’re worried about her. She’s with us to make sure you keep breathing, not to be your fuckin’ friend.”

“Here to keep you breathing, too, right?” Tommy asked.

Joel was quiet for a moment.

“Right?” He said again.

“Sure,” Joel said. “Right.”

Tommy clenched his jaw but stared straight ahead.

He wasn’t sure if his brother was cautioning him because he was worried about Tommy or because he was worried about himself.

Tommy wasn’t a fucking idiot. He saw what was happening with Joel. He’d been there when Sarah died, saw the pain in his brother’s face as he held his daughter’s broken body. He’d clung to her until she went cold, on the ground where she’d died at first and then for hours as they tried to find a way out of Austin and away from the carnage of the outbreak. He carried her body until he couldn’t anymore, dropping to his knees on the east side of town with smoke in the distance.

Tommy had tried to find a way to bury her, even just a shallow grave, but infected put a stop to that. Tommy had to drag Joel away, screaming and fighting him the whole way.

He put a gun to his head that afternoon. It was a miracle he survived but, sometimes, Tommy wasn’t sure he really had. The Joel he knew, the Joel who he’d grown up with, the Joel who’d damn near raised him during his teenage years as their mother’s health declined, the Joel who lived for his daughter had died with her. In his place was the man he was now. Harsher, colder, and more like Tommy when he got mad than Tommy was really proud of.

But things had shifted with you. He’d bought Joel’s reasoning at first and, in hindsight, he thought it was because Joel believed it himself then. That you were too valuable to just let go, that you wouldn’t survive long on your own so keeping you was a kindness.

Now, though, Joel was attached. Tommy could see it, even if Joel couldn’t. He’d first noticed on a morning where Joel had been the one in bed with you. Tommy pulled a shirt on, you curled in on yourself in that way you did, and he caught Joel tucking the blankets in around your sleeping form. Tommy raised his brows at him and he just frowned.

“S’cold,” he said softly before ducking around Tommy and leaving the room.

It was the first sign he’d seen of Joel caring about anything outside of Tommy since Sarah died.

After that, it was obvious. He wasn’t sure how he’d missed it before but, the second he knew to look for it, he saw signs of Joel caring everywhere. He stopped Vince from finishing the jerky he knew you liked best and set it aside for you. He made fires on nights Tommy knew he wouldn’t bother otherwise because you got cold. He saw you struggling to tie your boots with your bound hands and brushed your hands aside, kneeling at your feet to tie them for you. You complained the whole time, said that you were perfectly capable of tying your shoes if he’d just untie you. Joel just rolled his eyes, tucking your laces behind the tongue of the boot before getting to his feet again.

“You know,” Tommy said. “May not be the worst thing. Getting attached.”

Joel just huffed.

“Just mean, life’s better when you’ve got something to care about, right?” Tommy pressed on. “What’s the point of fightin’ this hard if you don’t?”

“Care about you,” Joel shrugged. “Seems like plenty to me. Just… Keep going for family.”

Tommy was quiet for a moment.

“She could be family,” he said, glancing Joel’s way.

Before Joel had a chance to object, the sound of your scream cut through the cold air. Tommy looked at Joel for barely a second before the men were running, shoving brush aside and leaping over obstacles as they went.

“Joel! Tommy!”

Tommy wasn’t sure where he found the energy after days on the road but he pushed himself faster at the sound of your voice. You were so afraid it sent a chill up his spine. It had to be infected, he couldn’t think of what else would inspire that kind of terror.

He broke through the tree line before Joel and it took him a moment to realize where you were, Vince on top of you on the ground. Tommy didn’t stop to think. He was hurting you, he was a threat, he needed to pay. Tommy tackled Vince, catching him completely off guard and rolling away from you. They landed with Vince on top but he was disoriented and Tommy quickly threw him to the ground before jumping on him, forcing his knee into the other man’s chest before punching him, hard, across the face again and again.

Vince scrambled, throwing his arms up, trying to protect his head from Tommy’s blows but it didn’t matter. He grabbed one arm and broke it, feeling the bones snap under his fingers.

“Tommy!” Vince sobbed. “Fuck, please! I can explain!”

“No,” Tommy shook his head, his fist raised. “Warned you, motherfucker. Shouldn’t have touched her.”

He ripped Vince’s unbroken arm away and started punching him again and again, the sick sense of satisfaction that took hold when he solved problems this way settling over him. There was something about using his body, taking control with force, that brought him a sense of peace. He knew what was coming next. He knew it could be the right thing, that he could protect who needed protecting, because he’d set the rules.

After what felt like no time at all, Vince was still below his fist, his face a mass of blood and displaced cartilage. He wasn’t breathing. Tommy panted, staring down at him for a moment. It seemed like he should feel bad for this, somehow. He’d lived alongside this man, survived the end of the world with him, for more than half a year. He should feel some sense of guilt or loss at killing him. But he didn’t. He only felt justified and a twisted sense of pride at the fact that he’d protected you, even if that meant killing for it.

For a moment, he was relieved, the knot in his stomach that had been there since he’d left with Joel days earlier easing.

Then, he heard it.

“Tommy!”

His blood went cold. Joel’s voice was pleading and desperate. He’d heard him like this once before, just once.

“Tommy, help me!”

He left Vince on the ground and ran to Joel. You were in his arms, staring down at your stomach, your breaths coming in shallow, pained paints. Joel had cut your ties, at least, and your hands were braced against him, your nails digging into him. There was red blossoming over you and Tommy stopped dead in his tracks.

“No,” he breathed.

Joel shook his head.

“Gotta help me,” he said. “I can’t… You gotta help me, please, Tommy. Please.”

You made a pained sound and winced, your whole face drawing tight in pain.

“I know,” Joel said, looking back down at you, tightening his hold on you. “I know, I know, it hurts, it’s gonna be OK, I’ve got you, it’s OK…”

“It’s not too bad,” you said, your voice pained. “Just… I think it missed the major stuff and I think the bullet went straight through, just have to get the bleeding under control and stop infection, that’s all, I just need…”

Your voice broke off and you panted, the agony clear on your face.

“It’s OK,” Joel said, clutching onto you as Tommy seemed to find control of his body again. “It’s OK, just tell us what to do, we’ve got you, it’s OK…”

“Need towels,” you winced. “Gauze. Alcohol to flush it… don’t think the water here would be good, even if we boiled it…”

“Got it,” Tommy said, running to the cabin and finding the collection of towels in one of the cabinets, gauze from your medical supplies, the highest proof liquor he could find in the stash at the house and ran back out to you.

“Have to get this out of the way,” you said, unbuttoning your shirt and shrugging out of it on your injured side, hissing in pain as you did. You gritted your teeth and spoke again. “Need one of the towels, put it on the wound - both sides since I think the bullet went through - and hold pressure. It needs to be a lot of pressure, have to stop the bleeding. It’s going to look like it hurts but that’s OK…”

Joel and Tommy maneuvered the towel around your wound and clamped down and you gasped in pain, one hand flying to Tommy’s shoulder, your fingers twisting in his shirt.

“I know, I know,” Joel sounded pained, too. “I know it hurts. It’s OK, you’re gonna be OK…”

You just nodded, staring up at him with wide eyes as you struggled to breathe through the pain.

Tommy tried not to think about the night more than a year ago when Joel had said the same things to his daughter as she bled out in his arms. He tried not to think about whether or not Joel could survive that happening again, especially so soon to the first person he’d shown any kind of care for since then. He tried not to think about whether or not he could survive it, either.

You, at least, stayed conscious and knew how to walk them through patching you up. This time when Joel got up from the bloodstained ground with a body in his arms, it was still breathing.

He carried you, delicately, into the cabin, your head on his shoulder and your eyes closed. They cleaned you up as best they could before Joel tucked you into bed, setting you on your uninjured side and pulling the blankets up around you. You flinched in your sleep and Joel brushed your hair back from your face, thumb tracing your cheekbone.

“C’mon,” Tommy whispered, jerking his head toward the door. “Should give her space.”

Joel nodded and followed Tommy to the kitchen.

“Drink?” Tommy asked, going for the cupboard with the liquor. Joel just nodded. Tommy poured them each a sizable glass before sitting across from him at the table. Joel took the cup but didn’t drink it. Instead, he set it on the table and turned it in his fingers, his jaw tight.

“You OK?” He asked eventually.

Joel sighed, staring at the liquor for another moment before meeting his brother’s eyes.

“I thought it was gonna be like her,” he said quietly. “She was bleeding like she was and in pain like she was and I thought…” his voice broke. “I can’t watch someone else I…”

He shook his head.

“Someone else you what?” Tommy asked when Joel was quiet for too long.

“Someone else I care about die like that,” he said, not looking at him.

Tommy nodded slowly.

“‘Bout time you figured it out,” he said.

Joel glared at him.

“Told you, attachment is dangerous. Saw why tonight, if I weren’t fuckin’ attached to her then…”

“Then you’d have let him rape her?” Tommy asked. “Kill her?”

“No,” Joel snapped and then sighed. “But.. I wouldn’t have been afraid. I… I was so afraid, Tommy. I haven’t been afraid like that since… I can’t do that again. I can’t.”

“You think I can?” Tommy asked, brows raised. “Jesus, Joel. You think I wasn’t fuckin’ terrified tonight? Think I broke a bone in my damn hand taking it out on that fuck…”

Joel sighed.

“Should let her go,” he stared out the window. “See if we can’t find a way to get her to a QZ or something…”

“Yeah, because those are so damn great,” Tommy scoffed.

“S’not safe out here,” Joel snapped. “And if we suddenly care about saving her, that puts us at risk…”

“Don’t you think she’s worth a little risk?” Tommy asked. “You really think you’re gonna be satisfied with just me for the rest of your life? Because, no offense brother, I’m not exactly thrilled with the idea of having just your ugly mug around for the rest of my days.”

“She doesn’t want to be here,” Joel said. “Remember that? The fact that she’s been literally tied to us? You really want someone who you’re forcing to be there?”

“Doesn’t have to stay that way,” Tommy said. “Lot’s happened…”

There was a creak and Tommy looked up, over Joel’s shoulder to see you emerging from the bedroom, a pained look on your face.

“What are you doing up?” He asked, leaving his drink and heading for you. “Need to use the bathroom or…”

You shook your head as Tommy took your hand and you leaned against him, your body warm and soft.

“He’s right,” Joel said, getting up, too. “You need to be resting…”

“I know,” you nodded, wincing. “I know I do, but… I… I woke up alone and I just… it was like I could feel him there and I couldn’t calm down and… Could you sleep in the bed with me? Please? I think… I think if you’re there I’ll feel safe and…”

“Course, little rabbit,” Tommy said gently. “Which one of us do you want?”

His stomach clenched at that question. He wanted the answer to be him. He wouldn’t get in the way if it was Joel, of course, but he wanted to be your source of peace and safety. He wanted to be who you turned to when you needed someone. You looked up at him, your eyes wide.

“Could it be both of you?” You asked sheepishly. “Please?”

Tommy looked to Joel who looked baffled for a moment before he answered for the both of them.

“Whatever you want,” he said. “C’mon, bed time.”

The walk to the bedroom was slow and Joel and Tommy both helped you into the middle of the bed. Joel went to sleep at your back, Tommy at your front.

“If we bump you or something and we hurt you, wake us up, OK?” Tommy said. You just nodded, curled up like a rabbit. He looked to Joel who just shrugged, the two of them climbing into bed with you. When Joel was in his place, you adjusted yourself back until you were pressed against him. Tommy lay down slowly, facing you and leaving as much space between you as he could. But you reached forward and tugged him closer, until his front was only a few inches from yours. Your smiled in the darkness.

“Thank you,” you said softly, closing your eyes and relaxing. “This feels better.”

“We’ve got you,” Joel said, his voice rough. “Take care of you.”

Tommy wasn’t sure you heard him. He was pretty sure you were already asleep.

***

Joel didn’t tie you up again.

You were expecting him to, once you started becoming more mobile again. He didn’t mention it, didn’t even tell you to behave and not go running off. You weren’t sure if it was because he didn’t care if you left or he could tell that you weren’t going to try to escape them now.

Things were different after Vince. Joel and Tommy had gone from being the best parts of a bad situation to the people you needed to feel safe. You had to ask them every night, for the first week, if they would sleep in the bed with you. They never said no, alternating between who was at your back and your front. You just liked being between their large, firm, warm bodies, enveloped by their heat and their strength. Nothing could hurt you when you were between them, nothing. That much you knew.

The two men took care of you while you recovered. Joel kept the fire going in the living room and would carry you to it in the morning. Tommy read to you for a change and you drifted in and out of consciousness on the couch to the soothing timbre of his voice. They helped you change your bandages and brought you water and soothed you when you woke up afraid.

It took a few weeks before Joel said he wanted to go hunting.

“Animals,” he clarified when you tensed. “Not people.”

“Can I come?” You asked quietly. Tommy was at your back that night, Joel at your front. Tommy held you a little tighter.

“Don’t know if you’re up for it quite yet,” Joel replied, brushing your hair back from your forehead.

“I’m ready,” you said quickly. “I can keep up, I…”

“Ain’t worried about you keepin’ up,” Joel said. “Worried about you gettin’ hurt. I’ll go…”

He must have seen at least some sign of the disappointment on your face in the dark. He sighed.

“What, little girl?”

“I don’t want to be here alone,” you said softly. “I know Vince is dead but…”

“I’m staying behind, too,” Tommy said. “Not going to leave you by yourself.”

“But…”

You went quiet.

“But what?” Joel asked.

“But you shouldn’t be out there on your own, either,” you said quietly. “It’s safer if Tommy goes, too, and…”

“Not doing anything very dangerous,” Joel said. “I’ll be back before you know it. It’s OK.”

You nodded, even though you didn’t really believe him.

He left the next day and you spent the whole damn day worrying. Tommy tried to distract you, playing poker and asking you to read to him, but your eyes kept going back to look at the door, waiting for Joel to walk through it and prove that he was alive and well.

When he returned just after dusk that evening, you jumped up from your chair at the dining room table and flung yourself at him, your arms going around his neck as you pressed your body against his.

“What’s all this about?” Joel laughed a little, catching you out of the air.

“I was worried,” you said, voice muffled by his shirt. “I’m glad you’re home.”

He was still for a moment before he held you close.

“Me too.”

That night, you made Joel sleep at your front and you pressed yourself against him, your leg hitching up over his hip. His breathing stuttered but you didn’t move. Tommy kept his distance at your back before you half turned, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and pulling him against your back.

“Need you both,” you yawned, body finally relaxing after being tense all day. “Please, need to feel you both.”

Tommy hesitantly enveloped you, curving his legs around yours, his arm gently going around your waist. You smiled, drifting off surrounded by the men who protected you.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise when you started waking up feeling wet.

The first time, you damn near panicked, Joel and Tommy still asleep around you. You couldn’t remember any dreams that would have made you react that way, it didn’t seem like something that happened just before you went to sleep. But you were wet.

It wasn’t until Tommy pressed against you in the kitchen, reaching something on a shelf over your head, that you realized what it was.

You were turned on by them. By Joel and Tommy both. They were large, they were strong, they were handsome. Their bodies were warm and firm when they held you at night and you started wondering what they’d taste like, what they’d feel like as they slipped inside of you and put all that wetness to use.

But more than that, they were safe. For the first time since the apocalypse had really begun, you felt secure. Yes, they might have taken you against your will but they’d taken care of you the way no one else ever had. They were safe and good to you and handsome and strong. You wanted them.

More than wanted. Needed. Needed to feel them closer, needed them inside of you. Needed them so close that no one could take you away from them.

One night, about two months after the incident with Vince, snow was piling high outside. Joel and Tommy had spent the day chopping wood, making sure there was enough stashed to ride out a storm. The three of you sat down to dinner, pulling one of the last of the rabbits Joel had trapped a few weeks earlier from your makeshift freezer of snow outside and roasting it over the fire, knowing you’d be stuck with jerky for a while going forward. You had a glass of whiskey with them, not enough to get you drunk but just enough to loosen you up. Enough to make you focus more on what you wanted. Enough for you to forget exactly why what you wanted was probably a bad idea.

Joel was at your front in bed that night, your ass pressed back against Tommy as your chest was pressed against Joel.

“Think the snow is going to be too crazy?” You asked quietly as Tommy’s thumb traced your lowest rib.

“We’ll dig out if it is,” Joel shrugged. “We’ve got enough supplies to last us ’til spring. Ain’t too worried.”

“Just gonna have a lot of time to kill,” Tommy said. You could hear the smile in his voice. “Might actually read one of those books of yours, little rabbit, instead of listen to you read ‘em.”

The cabin creaked in the wind and you pressed yourself closer to Joel, your hand going back to Tommy to pull him closer, too. You nuzzled into Joel’s chest, the hairs there tickling the tip of your nose, and breathed deep. Even at the end of the world, he smelled good. Rugged, with a hint of sweat, like the wood he’d chopped and smoke from the fire he’d built. You wanted to be closer to him. You wanted to feel him. You wanted - needed - to taste him.

So you did.

You brushed your lips against his chest and you felt his breath hitch as you kissed him there. You let your mouth linger on his skin before you pulled back ever so slightly and licked your lips, tasting the salt of him on your own skin with a small, needy moan.

“Little girl,” he said, voice strained.

“Yes?” You asked softly, looking up at him.

“Don’t think you know what you’re doin’,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Yes I do.”

“You’re askin’ for trouble is what you’re doin’,” he said. “So why don’t you…”

“I know what I want,” you whispered.

“Yeah?” Joel asked. “And what’s that?”

“You,” you said. You felt Tommy start to pull away from your back but you grabbed him and held him to you. “Both of you.”

Tommy tensed behind you and you kept ahold of him so he wouldn’t pull away.

“Please,” you breathed. “If you want me…”

“Don’t gotta be worried about that,” Tommy said, a hand slipping around your waist and curling up toward your breasts. “But… well, we talked about it and…”

His voice trailed off.

“And what?” You frowned, looking between the two of them.

“We decided that it’s best of neither of us act on that,” Joel said. “Too much risk of someone gettin’ hurt out here as it is, don’t need to add jealousy to the mix…”

“Who said anything about jealousy?” You asked. “I want both of you. I want to feel and taste and experience both of you, please. Feels like I’ve wanted it so long it almost hurts, I promise I won’t ask you to choose between me and each other, I want you both, I want you both so bad and…”

Your voice cracked, desperation both pathetic and obvious and you were having a hard time caring.

“Who are we to deny a lady what she wants?” Tommy asked quietly.

Joel was quiet for a moment.

“You sure about this?” He asked.

“Think I can handle sharing,” Tommy said. “Worth the risk if I can get just a little bit of her…”

Your heart fluttered at that.

“Good,” Joel said, voice low and rough. “But wasn’t quite so worried about you, brother.”

“I’m sure,” you said, damn near panting now. “Please…”

“Then why don’t you be a good girl,” Joel said, adjusting so he could nudge you down onto your back. “And let us have you.”

Joel started pulling at the buttons of your shirt, opening you up slowly to him as Tommy slid down your body to your panties. He pulled them down and opened your legs to him as Joel reached over to the nightstand and flicked on a flashlight, angling it away from the bed so there was just enough light to see each other by.

“Fuck,” he said as he pulled your shirt fully open, exposing your bare chest to him. He reached one large, callused hand forward and cupped your breast, cradling the weight of it in his palm before curling a thumb over your nipple and brushing over you, making you moan. “So fuckin’ pretty. No idea how bad I wanted to see you like this…”

“Even better here,” Tommy said from his place between your thighs. He ran his thumb over your slit, adding pressure when he reached your clit. You sucked in a breath in shock as you squirmed a little below him. “She’s got the prettiest damn pussy I’ve ever seen.”

“Think she tastes as good as she looks?” Joel asked.

“Gonna find out,” Tommy said, leaning forward, his tongue following the same path as his thumb had found just a moment earlier. He gently teased your clit with the tip of his tongue before pressing it between your lower lips, slipping down until he found your tight, wet hole. He dipped his tongue inside you there and he moaned, thrusting shallowly in and out as he toyed with your clit with his thumb. “Tastes so damn good, Joel. So fuckin’ good, like sunshine and honeysuckle and the best damn candy you ever tasted…”

“Bet she does,” Joel said, bending and putting his lips on your bared breasts. He held you gently in his hands at first before he sucked your nipple gently into his mouth. He moaned with it and you did, too, as he sucked you for a moment trailing kisses to your other breast and doing the same there. Tommy watched, almost awed for a moment, before going back to your dripping heat. You moaned when his tongue slid inside you again, your back arching. You felt Joel smile against your chest.

“Think she likes that,” he said. “Keep doin’ it.”

“Planning on it,” Tommy panted from between your legs before diving back into you. His tongue spread you open as his fingers worked your clit and you rocked your hips against his face, any sense of shame you had long gone.

Joel kissed up your chest to your throat, the brush of his lips and the scratch of his beard making you shiver and gush a little onto Tommy’s tongue as he ate you. He moaned as you did and Joel kissed up your jaw toward your lips but stopped just short of kissing you. You whimpered.

“Not yet, little girl,” he breathed, reaching to cup your breast. “Want you to kiss him first, after you fuckin’ soak him with your come. Want to taste you on your tongue when I kiss you the first time. Think you can do that for me? Think you can come all over his fucking face?”

You nodded, not fully able to form words. Tommy increased his pace and added a finger to where his tongue was working inside you, spreading you open wider, finding the soft places inside you to pet and press.

“Doin’ so good for me,” Joel said, sounding a little breathless and needy. “So, so good for me. Want you to give into it, baby. Want you to give in to me n’him. Give in and come, give yourself to us, you can do it, come on baby, come on…”

He pressed his lips to your throat just as Tommy added pressure to your clit and his finger was deep inside you and you started to come, crying out with the force of it as your walls fluttered around him. One of your hands flew to Joel’s thigh, digging into him with sharp desperation, while the other went to Tommy’s curls, twisting and tangling in them as you worked yourself against his face.

“There she is,” Joel breathed and you opened your eyes to find him watching you intently, pupils blown and face lined with want. “Good girl, comin’ so hard for us. Just let it all go, baby. Give it all to us, we want all of you, all your pleasure, just give it all to us, come on…”

Tommy ate you through your orgasm until you went limp. Tommy sat up, breathless, looking down at your exposed body for a moment before taking his place on the other side of you from Joel. Your half dazed eyes traced over his face and saw traces of your slick on his lips.

“Here baby,” he said, gently cupping your face and tilting your head toward his. He pressed his mouth to yours and you weren’t sure where the taste of you ended and the taste of him began as his tongue swept into your mouth. After a moment, he pulled back ever so slightly, just enough to look in your eyes for a second before pressing his lips gently to yours once more. When he pulled back again, he just watched as Joel turned your head toward his and kissed you, too.

It was soft and delicate at first but, as soon as his tongue pressed into your mouth, he became desperate, kissing you hard and deep, moaning as he did. Even though you just came, you could feel yourself getting hot and tight again.

He pulled away eventually, looking across you to Tommy.

“She does taste good,” He said.

“Told you.”

Joel laughed once before cupping your breast again, looking you up and down.

“We overwhelmed you yet, little girl?” He asked. “Need us to stop so we don’t break you?”

“No,” you panted, looking between them. “And… I think I’d be OK breaking for you.”

“Fuck,” Tommy hissed, sliding a hand down your body to the apex of your thighs to just cup your pussy. “Think she can take both of us at once? Don’t think I can wait my turn…”

“I bet she can,” Joel said, looking down at you. “You ever taken two cocks at once?” You swallowed hard and shook your head. “Think you can be our good girl and tell us if it gets to be too much?” You nodded. “Good.”

Joel took you by the waist and pulled you tight to his front before he rolled onto his back, taking you with him with a sharp little squeak. You could feel the thick of his cock through his sweatpants and you ground yourself down on it, moaning as you did. Tommy got out of bed for a moment, just long enough to take his sweatpants and underwear off and leaving him naked in front of you.

Your eyes went wide at his cock. Thick and long with just the right amount of curve, he worked just the head of himself, smirking a little at your expression.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Take real good care of you when we make it fit. Besides, not mine you gotta worry about.”

Your eyes got wider, looking down in shock at Joel, who laughed.

“We’ll make sure you’re good and ready, baby,” he said, pulling you up his body just enough that you were no longer half sitting on his cock. He reached low and shoved down his sweatpants before he kicked them off the rest of the way and you tried to get a look at it.

Joel had another idea.

“Here,” he nudged you so you were sitting up, your bare, dripping pussy on his stomach. “Get a feel for me, baby.”

He lifted you just enough that, when he set you down again, your core was against the root of him. You gasped at the feel of him against you, so long and thick that it made your head spin.

“Fuck,” you panted, your hands going to his chest as you started to grind down against his length. He groaned.

“That’s it, baby,” he said. “Such a good girl, get me all nice and slick with you. Think you can make yourself come on my cock before I’m even inside you?”

You just nodded, working your hips harder and faster against him. Joel moaned.

“Good fucking girl,” he said, his large hands finding your thighs, fingertips sinking into the flesh of them. “Want you to suck his cock while you do. Gotta get him all wet to go in that little asshole of yours. Think you can do that for us?”

You just nodded and sat up from Joel a little more as Tommy crawled toward you on the bed, working his dripping length as he did. Your mouth dropped open and you took him into it, sucking and licking his head before starting down the shaft, moving slow as you looked up at him through your eyelashes, relishing the look on his face before he dropped his head back and moaned in pleasure. You were doing this to him, you were bringing this strong, powerful man to his knees with just your mouth.

“Holy shit you’re good at that,” Tommy moaned. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, gonna come down that pretty throat of yours if you’re not careful…”

“Don’t push him too far, little girl,” Joel said, rocking his hips up into yours and making you gasp. “Want to take all of you, can’t wear him out too quick…”

“Fuck, her mouth Joel, Jesus,” his fingers went to knot in your hair as he started fucking into your throat and you swallowed around him. “Fuck, you try not comin’ in her here…”

“Save it,” Joel said, sounding a little close to the edge himself. “Imagine how good her ass is gonna feel…”

“Oh fuck,” Tommy said, pulling you off his cock and panting for breath. Joel kept fucking his cock up against your pussy, the thickest part of him working your clit and making you moan, your second orgasm building. Tommy cupped your face, watching your desperation as you got close to coming from his brother’s cock. “Fuck, so damn pretty when she’s about to come. Work of fuckin’ art…”

“Tell me about it,” Joel grunted, sounding almost pained. “Fuck, you think she’s close? Need inside her, can’t…”

“Oh she’s close,” Tommy said as you whimpered, the ability to form words far behind you. “You like what he’s doin’ to you, little rabbit?” You nodded urgently. Tommy smiled. “Good, good. Want him to go a little faster? Just a bit?” You nodded again.

“Fuck,” Joel panted, increasing his pace, pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm. He pulled back just far enough on one stroke that his head caught on your entrance and the tiniest bit of him slipped inside you for just a second but it was enough to set you off, every ounce of tight need that had built up inside you throbbing and pulsing over Joel’s heavy cock. “Jesus Christ… fuck, gotta feel so fuckin’ good to be inside her when she does that…”

“She’s so good for us,” Tommy said, watching you intently, his eyes locked on yours. “Doin’ so good for us. Just gotta do that one more time when we’re inside you, OK baby? Think you can do that for us?”

You felt on the verge of tears but nodded anyway, wanting nothing more than to feel them inside of you when you came.

“Good girl,” Tommy breathed. “Now do me a favor, get my cock nice and wet one more time for me…”

You obeyed, taking him in your mouth to the root and letting your mouth soak him. He moaned, holding the head of himself in your throat, before pulling from you slowly and gently.

“Bend over for us,” Tommy said, helping you adjust so you were down against Joel’s chest with your ass back in the air. He moved to be behind you, his legs over Joel’s as your thighs were around Joel’s hips. He ran a thumb from your leaking center to your ass and let out a low moan. “Fuck, every goddamn inch of you… fuckin’ gorgeous.”

“You OK if we try to get inside you?” Joel asked, his voice low and needy.

“Yes,” you managed. “Please, fuck, need you, need you both so bad…”

“I know you do baby,” Joel said, a comforting hand coming to the middle of your back. “Gonna start with me in your pussy then Tommy’s gonna take your ass, gonna make you feel so fuckin’ full baby…”

Joel adjusted you ever so slightly, reaching his free hand down to lift his cock and line it up with your entrance. There was some resistance, the thickness of him almost too much to take but he pushed past it until you felt his whole head pop into your hole.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned. “Fuck, fuck… Need just a second, baby. Gonna come too quick if we go now just… fuck…”

You just nodded against his chest as your body adjusted to the small part of his cock that you’d taken.

“OK baby,” he panted. “Gonna give it all to you now.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond, he just thrust into you and you cried out with the almost brutal stretch of him pushing deep into you, your tight channel rippling over him.

“Fuck,” Joel hissed, his fingers pressing into the bared skin of your back.

“How’s she feel?” Tommy asked, sounding almost pained.

“So goddamn tight,” Joel groaned. “Like she was fuckin’ built to take this cock, my GOD…”

Joel’s hand slid down to your lower back and he put pressure there, holding you in place as his hips lowered so his cock was fully seated inside of you. You rocked your hips, desperate for just a little friction.

“Fuck, so pretty,” Tommy said, his thumb going from your stretched opening up to your tight bud. “Need you to hold still for me, can’t get inside you if you move too much…”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see it and stilled, the thick, heavy weight of Joel within you burning you from the inside out. You felt a warm drop of liquid on your ass and realized that Tommy was probably trying to lube you up with spit. His thumb worked gentle circles over your puckered ring of muscle.

“Anyone ever been in this tight little hole?” He asked, almost reverently.

“One guy,” you managed. “In college…”

“You like it?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you said, breath picking up at the thought of it. “Fuck, yeah, I did…”

“Gonna make you love it baby,” he said. “Now just relax for me.”

You did your best to obey but you were already stretched so tight there it was hard to imagine anything else fitting inside that half of your body. But you wanted it. Wanted to feel both of them deep within you, the three of you together.

Tommy pressed his cock head to your hole and spit one more time before he started pushing in. You whimpered at it and Joel’s hand ran in a soothing pattern up and down your back, the tight ring of your ass holding firm.

“C’mon, just let me in,” Tommy panted, pressing harder. “Just let me in, baby, make you feel so good when I do…”

“Relax for us,” Joel said in your ear, so soft you doubted Tommy could hear. “This was what you wanted, right? For us to take you, make you ours? Can’t do that if you won’t let him in, little girl. Just let him in, let us have you…”

Tommy’s cock pushed past the ring of muscle and he sank a few inches inside you with a strangled moan.

“Holy shit,” he panted. “Fuck, never… never felt something this tight, Jesus Christ…”

He pushed deeper, slowly, gently, and you pressed your face down into Joel’s warm, broad chest, moaning and needy. You’d never felt this full, never felt this stretched, never felt this overwhelmed. Never felt like you so totally, utterly belonged to anyone else.

“Almost inside you,” Tommy panted. “Fuck, doin’ so good for us. So so good…”

Another minute and Tommy’s hips met the plush of your ass and he moaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he did.

“Fuck, we’re inside you baby,” Tommy said, his head falling forward until it met the middle of your back. “So deep inside you, fuck…”

“Taking both of us, baby,” Joel whispered, just for you. “Really ours now, gonna take such good care of you…”

“I gotta move, Joel,” Tommy panted, sitting up again. “Fuck, I can’t… I gotta… fuck.”

“We’re gonna fuck you now,” Joel said, loud enough that Tommy could hear him this time. “You just take us and come on our cocks like a good girl.”

You nodded into Joel’s chest.

Tommy started to move first, pulling back slowly before thrusting in harder and faster. When he thrust in, Joel slid out until just the head of him remained inside your channel. When he pushed back inside, Tommy pulled back again. The men set the pace, alternating in perfect rhythm so you were never empty, giving you the mind-blowing combination of almost constant friction with constant stretch.

It didn’t take long before you started to tighten around them, their cocks working your holes in tandem, filling you and stretching you and claiming every inch of you. Joel had to push back inside with a grunt as your orgasm built, the tightness of your inner walls almost too much for him.

“She’s gettin’ close,” Tommy panted. “Fuck, already tryin’ to milk my cock…”

“Think we can get her there,” Joel said, breathless, thrusting somehow deeper than he’d been before, making you gasp.

“Fuck, need to feel her come,” Tommy said, gripping your hips tighter and starting to fuck in and out of you faster. Joel followed suit, thrusting in deep and hard on his final stroke.

“I’m… fuck,” you panted, your insides hot and coiled with pleasure so intense you could barely remember your own name. “I’m close, so close, want to come with you, please, want to come with both of you, please, please, please…”

You kept whimpering and pleading, mind foggy, as Joel and Tommy picked up the pace, Joel’s arms wrapping tightly around you, holding you close and tight to his skin as his and Tommy’s orgasms built.

“Gonna come,” Tommy said. “Fuck, gonna… I’m gonna…”

“Please, please, please…” You sobbed and they both thrust deep inside at the same time, stretching you to your limit, both throbbing deep and hard, triggering your own orgasm, walls clenching onto them tight and rippling over them.

“Did so good for us,” Joel whispered softly in your ear as your core fluttered around them, their cocks going still inside you. He held you close, one hand on your ribs, the other on the back of your head. “So fucking good for us…”

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

Your whole body went limp, nothing but an overwrought, dripping mess as Tommy slowly, gently, pulled himself out of you. You felt some of his come drip out after him but he scooped it with his finger and pushed it back inside, covering your tightening hole with his palm until it closed again.

“Belongs inside you, baby,” he said softly. “Gotta keep it where it belongs…”

He collapsed next to you and Joel and you whimpered at the loss of contact. You wanted - needed - to be touching both of them. Joel seemed to understand, rolling with you gently onto his side and nudging you back into Tommy. His arms went around you and held you as Joel pulled out of you, a trial of your come and his running between your thighs to his softening cock. He pressed close to you once he was outside your body again, his cock all warm and wet against your skin.

“That what you needed, little girl?” Joel asked gently, tracing the outline of your face with his fingertips. You couldn’t keep your eyes open, letting them fall closed with a contented sigh and a nod. Joel’s lips brushed your forehead. “Good. Gotta take care of what’s ours.”

A/N: Yeah so this will almost definitely be a longer series in the future but this is it for now! Sorry for the wait and for the fact that it's completely unhinged.

Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for being here! Love you!

Taglist: @pockcock

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #smut fic #joel miller x female reader x tommy miller #dead dove december #dead dove do not eat #tommy miller x reader

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hannahssimblr · 3 months ago

Text

The day I leave the beach feels like the last chapter of a book. I awake that Wednesday to change. The sky, which held steady and cerulean all summer, perfect, porcelain, is a mottled grey as clouds roll in over the beach. I swim, early in the morning, in a sea that is choppier than before, the waves crashing over the rocks and tossing foam into the air, and over the shore now slimy with seaweed.

I spot Liam in his wetsuit, board in hand, and I wave. He waves back, and I have the striking realisation that this may be the last time I ever see him.

I say goodbye to Joe and Kasper at the door that morning, their PlayStation games and the half-filled bags of Doritos they never finished bundled under their arms.

“Good luck with it all,” says Joe. “We’ll see you around.” It’s a thing you say to a person when you’re not sure you will, and as I watch them go from the window, there’s a finality to it. It’s like I’m watching them leave, not just with their games and their snacks, but with a phase of my life, too. We’ll never be together in the same way, and never be these exact versions of ourselves again.

Shane is the next to go. After a thorough clean of the bedroom, the sheets washed and dried and put back on the bed, ready for next summer. He drops a hand onto my shoulder.

“Good luck in Germany, yeah? Maybe I’ll come and visit.”

“You should.”

“Yeah, I might.”

“If you do, I’ll see you there.”

He nods and ducks through the door, and to his back, I shout “Good luck in college!” He lifts a thumbs up into the air, and he’s gone.

And then there is Jen. With a click of her last suitcase, she has packed up, and in the empty house, there’s nothing to distract us anymore from the new, yet ever present rift between us.

We’ve barely spoken since the festival. I haven’t known how to, despite her pleads, and made a big deal of getting Kasper to sit in the passenger seat during the ride home. I asked him all kinds of questions about himself, realising only then, to my immense guilt, that it was the only bit of effort I had made with him all summer.

I spent the days between then and now away from the house. Swimming, cycling, driving into town and just looking around, reading a book while the last of the summer tourists milled about, still in their flip-flops and sun hats as though they hadn’t noticed that autumn had already taken up residence in the shadows.

I’d come home before dark and stay in my room while the others watched their movies and played their games. One night, I heard Jen crying softly in bed. I didn’t ask her if she was okay.

Now, once again, I avoid her as she sits on the floor surrounded by her bags, by arranging a stack of books on the shelf. One of my sketchbooks is there, complete with a thousand drawings of the summer. I leave it where it is.

A clock ticks somewhere in the room.

“I’m sorry you’re so mad at me,” Jen says to the back of my head.

“Same.”

“I still think you should give me a chance to explain myself.”

I sigh. “I’m not ready to talk about it.”

“Okay. Have you seen her? Have you talked to Evie?”

“No, I haven’t.”

I turn around to see her hugging her knees to her chest. She looks remarkably small like that, and her hair, which was so bright in June, has faded with the salt water and the sun, and now her brown roots are showing.

“I think I’d like to get the bus home.” She mutters.

“That’s alright. Do you want a lift to the station?”

“No thanks, I’ll just walk.”

I don’t argue, and before that hour is out, she, too, is gone, and I am the last man standing.

Turn off all the lights, switches and the hot water. Store the garden furniture. Leave the fridge running. Double check ALL doors and windows are locked.

This is all contained in a cheerful email from my father, followed by a paranoid diatribe about all the catastrophic things that will happen to the house if I fail to comply. There’s something about a potential flood or explosion in there, I think, but I barely skimmed the bulk of it.

Thanks for the essay lmao.

I write back.

Be home at 2.

I do my last check of the house, then stand by the door for several minutes just looking at it. The kitchen, once a hub of activity with friends chatting over breakfast and a sink full of dirty dishes, is now deserted, immaculate, and quiet. I realise I hate endings. I do not want to dwell on things anymore, or be sentimental, or hang on to the past.

I lock the door behind me and get into my car without another look back.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2010 #so close to the end now!!#of 2010 ofc #much more to come #but the childhood years are more or less over

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mediocre-shark-tales · 10 months ago

Text

Fated by the Stars (10)

Straykids ot8 x Reader

Warnings - SMUT 18+ Not intended for MINORS (ITS NSFW)

Summary - Heat with the boys

Masterlist

Hands slowly ran up from my stomach to my chest, pulling the oversized shirt up with it. These same hands caressed my chest before finishing removing the shirt. Another pair of hands removed the boxers and shorts off at the same time. They quickly returned to my slowly heating skin to massage my thighs. I whined as the heat became more unbearable. "Please remove socks alpha, is too hot.." I asked and quickly my request was taken care of. Now I was laying bare in front of my pack alpha and his second in command. Their eyes eating me up as they caressed the most sensitive parts of me.

I blushed see them stare at my body, their eyes roaming up and down my body. I whine and sat up trying to crawl into Chan's lap. "Alpha please help me, it hurts, need knot." He cooed at me petting my hair before he spoke softly. "Alphas will take care of you sweetie, You must be patient we want to show you our love before we knot and fill you up. Before we leave our mating mark forever adorning your skin." Minho smiled and brought my face to look at him. "First you need to take this shot so you don't get pregnant before you are ready. Every 24 hours we will have to administer the meds like this until your heat is over." I agreed with him and watched as he grabbed the paper bag behind him.

He pulled out a syringe and a bag of needles. Each needle was package separately to keep them as clean as possible. I watched as he used a glove to put one of the needles on the syringe. Then he pulled out the medication and began to transfer it into the syringe. Once he had it done and the air was removed from it, he crawled back over to me. I gave him my thigh as I already knew how this worked. Both the boys gave me astonished looks and chan whispered from behind me. "Honey have you done this before." I nodded. "Sang-jun would do this when he during his rut, he would spike me into a forced heat and then give me the meds as he didn't want a pup yet. They both growled at the notion that I had suffered so much without them.

"Don't think about him anymore alpha's after this heat I'll be all your forever and ever. Now please hurry up and put your knots in me and your marks on me." Slowly my voice went from a straight serious mind to a whiney and whimpering omega again. The two boys smirked again and Minho quickly administered the medication. Once done he picked up the bag and syringe throwing away the needle and placing the rest of it on the counter in the bathroom.

While he was doing this, Chan began to caress my chest again while holding me from behind. I could feel his slowly growing hard on near my butt. So I backed up a bit more to try and grind my ass against him. But he moved back first instead leaning down to kiss around my neck and shoulder. I whined as all my heat hazed mind wanted was to be mated and knotted. But the alphas around me had a different idea. They wanted to show me all of their love before they connect us for life.

As Chan continued to leave small love bites up and down my neck while he massaged my chest. I watched minho return to the room as he locked his hungry lusty eyes with mine. He stalked closer before kneeling down onto the bed and slowly crawled into the nest. Once close enough he pulled me into a deep kiss. His tongue entering my mouth with ease, dominance radiated off of his figure. He pulled away for a few mere seconds before he reattached himself to my collar bone, kissing slowly down my chest. Chan stopped massaging one breast to allow minho to kiss around the nipple. But that lasted a short period of time before he had my nipple between his plump lips, sucking and nibbling it. Euphoria filled my system as both boys showed me how an alpha should really pleasure their omega.

This show of love was nothing like Sang-jun, who would take what he wanted. His pleasure was more important than mine. I don't remember ever experiencing such love, such euphoria and I don't think I would ever be able to get enough. Minho allowed his spare hand to wander around my skin until he was cupping my opposite hip from the breast in his mouth. Suddenly Chans spare hand moved my face to his and he snatched me into a lust-filled kid with him. I felt Minho grind his clothed erection into my crotch forcing a long needing moan from my lips.

Both boys smirked against my skin as I writhed under their hands. Whining for more that they were slowly giving me. My mind was a jumbled hazy mess but as Minho began to strip in front of me, I could feel myself spill out more slick. Once he was undressed, he pulled me out of Chans lap. This allowed the other to begin undressing while he took my attention away. I now laid onto of him but he still had the dominance that he had controlled this whole time. His hands massage my ass as he caught me in another French kiss. I felt one hand leave my ass as he moved his hard on from between us. Now it stood tall leaning against my heat, every now and then he would grind up against my cunt.

I was soon a whining and whimpering mess on top of him, however I soon noticed his untouched glowing skin under me. Now only one thought filled my head, that was to cover him in love bites just as he had done to my chest. I kissed right between his pecks, biting everyone and then. his chest rumbled in a soft moan as I gave him a similar pleasure to what I was feeling. Chan's hand came around and softly pulled me away from leaving my love bites. I whined at this but he quickly tsked me. "No no sweet baby, right now is all about you, showing you what really love feels like. You can please us another time baby." I pouted but agreed, however that pout was quickly faded as I felt his other hand against my cunt.

One finger entering me as he moved back to see my most sentive part bare for him. "Let's get started prepping you for both our knots, Huh pup?" I whined against Minhos chest as Chans fingers began to pump in and out of me, it was quick that had already gotten a second finger inside me. Minho pulled my face to look at him whispering, "I wanna watch how pleased you are while chan opens you up for us." I stayed put staring back at Minho as another finger was added to my cunt, curling and pumping in and out. However suddenly chan's tongue was swirling around while he continued to stretch me out with his fingers.

The pleasure I was feeling was beyond clear comprehension. sure the heat would definitely magnify my pleasure but this was something I would have never experienced before coming to this pack. I was sure after this heat I would never ever want anything more than my pack mates. Even without the soul ties we held, without a mating mark. I would forever be there's and I would hope they would forever be mine had the circumstances been different.

My mind was brought back to earth as I felt the fingers leave my cunt empty, before I could even whine I felt a cock align up to my whole. I looked back to see chan smirking down at me as he slowly began to push himself in. However he allowed for me to get comfortable with each stretch. My heat brain wanted him to just push all in at once but knowing how my pack acred for me, they would never risk hurting me. "Yes alpha please, please move more, 'mega wants all of it please alpha." His slow movements were making my omega restless, wanting nothing more than to be claimed and knotted. Chan growled at me. "We will both have you knotted under us 'mega, be patient." He didn't mean any of this in anger but with how lost in my omegan heat I was, this was the only way he could get through to me.

Once he was fully inserted into me, he began to rock back and forth at a medium pace. Minho scooted himself down to begin sucking and nibbling my nipples again. More pleasure flowing through me as they both used any means necessary to calm the storming heat in my system. I felt chan grab my head, forcing me to look up at a mirror that was against the wall across from us. It had been next to the bathroom door for ages. "Look at that 'mega, watch yourself get fuck and filled by your pack alpha. I want to see your face, do. not. look. away omega. Or I won't knot you tonight." I whined but followed his orders, I would get this knot and mating mark.

His pace began to slowly pick up, until finally he was impossibly pounding in and out of my aching cunt. My body filling quickly with pleasure beyond the gods strength, I knew I was close. However My brain was to succumb to the euphoria to speak coherently. I could feel chan slowly losing his perfect pace, this was enough to know he too was close to blowing.

He growled in my left ear, "Gonna mark you here 'mega. I'm gonna come and tie our souls together for infinite" I felt his cock begins o expand at the base before he finally blew his load deep into my cunt as his knot inflated fully. With this I saw his canines elongate and he bite down around my scent gland. This gave me the final blow to come with him. As I enjoyed the high of my orgasm, I could feel his soul reaching out to mine. Our soul entwining together as almost one. When he detached, I could see his bite mark perfect circle the outside of my scent gland. Perfectly centered on the left side of my neck. I carefully turned around trying my best to hurt neither of us as his knot still stayed stiff. Once I was looking fully at him, I could feel my own canines grow and I latched down onto the space right at the junction between his neck and shoulder. Leaving behind my small yet perfect mate mark as our soul finally fully came together as one.

I smiled at Chan as he gave me a similar loving smile. "As soon as my knot deflates, it's Minho's turn to mate you baby." I glance behind me at Minho who now sat patiently waiting with a shit eating grin.

A minute or two later I was able to detach from chan, and I crawled over to Minho. I was able to climb into his lap already grabbing his red hot cock with my entrance. In seconds I had sat down fully on his cock, moaning at the feeling of being full once again. He picked me up and laid me back down in the nest. Still deep inside he began to pump in and out. Slowly out but slamming back in. Every slam forced a moan from my horse throat. "Please alpha give me more, I wan your knot and mark pwease!" I felt tears fall from my eyes as I begged him.

I got a soft smirk from him as he wiped away my tears. "Okay 'mega no more waiting, I'll knot you up and mate you for life. Then we can go to bedd and the others will come join us soon." I nodded as he began to pick up his pace. Eventually he was pounding in and out of me, both of out breaths were uneven as we looked into each others eyes. Sweat covering both of our skins as we worked to each others high. He pulled me into a deep kiss, making out with me while he continued to pound my cunt into heaven. Soon my high was on the edge again, He too was ready to blow as he began to expand at the base. Just as we locked together, both of us orgasmed hard. Our canines now fully protruding as we both found the perfect spot to claim.

The feeling of our souls sewing together into one while experiencing the euphoric high of our orgasms was beyond a description. I was so lucky to get 6 more times to experience such perfection. We both pulled away from each other, I could see my mark left in a similar place to how I mark chan. A glance to the mirror showed me that Minho had left the exact same mark as Chan just his was surrounding my right scent gland.

I smiled and went back to clean up minhos mark, licking away at the wound so it would heal nicely. I had done the same to chan while we waited for his knot to deflate. Feeling both of them clean up the wound of the mark afterwards was nearly a romantic feeling. It was just soft and full of professing love.

Once minho had fully deflated, I was pulled off of him by Chan. He had put his t-shirt and boxers back on. While minho got his tshirt and boxers. Chan helped me get into a clean pair of boxers and a shirt. He opened a nearby drawer set, apparently he had already prepped the drawers in advance, t-shirts and boxers from all my mates sat inside ready for me to use between the highs of my heat. I could smell that the tshirt was from minho and the boxers from chan. After making each other we were more sensitive to each other, wanting only our scents on each other. So I was given their clothes to wear as a way to keep me smelling like them.

They both pulled me down into the nest. The base of the nest had been switched out by Minho while chan had dressed me. That way I could lay in a clean nest while we rested, instead of slick, sweat, and cum. After laying together for a few minutes I heard the sound of the rest of the pack joining us. I was sandwiched between Minho and Chan, So they all took turns giving me a kiss on the forehead. They all complimented and praised me for how well I handled the two alphas.

Their soft voices quickly lulled me off into a deep sleep as the exhaustion from earlier activities finally kicked in. I finally succumb to the energy loss and fell asleep, happily between all my pack mates.

Masterlist

#x reader #alpha beta omega #bang chan #childhood trauma #han jisung #hwang hyunjin #kim seungmin #lee felix #lee minho #yang jeongin #seo changbin #omega heat #omegaverse #stray kids #smut

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sa3ha · 1 year ago

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Convenient break

pairing: riki x fem!reader warnings: fluff, small kiss, quiet!riki, stressed!reader, mentions of periods, gramatical errors (pls forgive me T.T) context: you were stressed and had a bad day, and Riki made it better for you. NOT PROOFREAD

Stressed. You were stressed. You've been spending your time at school a lot more than before this week. Your grades were starting to fall, so you couldn't afford slacking anymore. It sucked, needing to study for practically everything, while others wouldn't even need to try.

Though today, it couldn't get any worse. You forgot your wallet and only realized when you arrived at school. You unexpectedly got your period during second hour of school, and had to ask a few female classmates for pads. So, you've been in pain ever since. Thinking it couldn't get any worse, you hadn't eaten since lunch break, and it was now 7pm. You were totally k.o'd.

The school closes at 9, and you were on cleaning duty today. Your classmates had already done their part and left for their after-school clubs already. As you were thinking of your bad day, you felt your cellphone vibrate on your desk.

You smiled, seeing it was your infamous boyfriend, calling for a facetime. You pressed to answer and grinned wider when you were met with a kind of sweaty Riki. "Hey love" He started, watching your tired face through the screen. "Hi" you answered. "Are you still at school, where do I meet you?" He asked, eager to see you again. "I'm still in our classroom, ki. I've been studying but I'm not really focusing like I need to" you told him, slightly pouting.

"Alright, I'm joining you upstairs in a second. I just finished basketball practice" He continued.

You just smiled at him and told him you'd be waiting.

A good minute passed and your classroom door slid open, revealing your lovely boyfriend. You smiled at each other and he went up to you, opening his arms for you to fall into. You got up and quickly hugged him by his neck, giving him the opportunity to slide his arms around your smaller waist. He was much taller than you, causing him to bend over towards your frail body. "Hm, I missed you" You told him, making him grin at the statement.

"I missed you too" He replied, hugging you a little tighter while he kissed your lower neck. He then let go a little bit of your waist, and so did you from his neck.

"You're on cleaning duty today, right? I'll do it" He said. You explained to him that your part was just to clean the desks and to wipe the chalkboard. He quickly got into it while you decided to pack your things up and continue studying at home.

When you both were done, you made sure to turn off the lights of the room before leaving the establishment, hand in hand. Your stomach was growling and you were in pain, front to back. Riki was quick to notice this and quickly took your bag from your shoulder. You just looked at him and he continued as if nothing had changed.

These were moments that you were thankful for. Though he didn't quite talk as much as others, he noticed things pretty quickly.

"How about we go to the convenience store? My treat" He spoke, watching your eyes go wide in excitement. He smiled when you nodded, as you both reached the place.

Entering the store, you both greeted the worker and got a small cart. You grabbed your favorite instant noodles cup and looked at your partner. "What, that's it? Get more" He told you, adding an instant teokbokki cup for you. He wanted to see your genuine smile, and he hadn't seen it a lot today. He thought food would cheer you up, so he didn't want this moment for waste of an opportunity.

You both got drinks and a pack of chips, and he added a kimbap roll. You didn't want to throw up tonight, so you told him it was enough and thanked him. As you both reached the counter, Riki grabbed his wallet and took out his card to pay. In one smooth swipe, the machine approved and you both got to heating your food.

After a few uses at the hot water dispensor and the microwave, you both were seated at a table. The food was finally prepared. You thanked the lord and Riki for your food and digged in.

You used the chopstick to get a good bite and finally had food in your mouth. You hummed in satisfation as you munched and kept eating. Watching you smile while eating was the cutest sight to Riki.

He looked at you with love eyes and was pleased at your reaction. You took notice of his stare and quickly got embarrassed. "What? Why are you staring at me that way.." you asked. "You want some?" You genuinely asked. His smile just grew and he pointed at his mouth. "Feed me".

You laughed a little at his request, but played along. It wasn't everyday the boy asked you to do such things for him. You took a piece of spicy rice cake and fed him with your chopsticks. He ate and the cycle repeated until you guys were done with the food.

"Thanks a lot for tonight, you really made everything so much better. I really love you" You told Riki as you both had just left the store. He smiled and just grabbed your waist, pulling you in for a kiss, in which you kissed him back. It was short but very sweet.

Pulling back, he leaned his forehead on yours, and whispered those 4 words that he'd only spoken to you. "I love you too".

Hope you enjoyed!!!!

#niki imagines #enhypen fluff #niki fluff #enhypen #enhypen fic #nishimura riki #enha imagines #enhypen imagines

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jumpywhumpywriter · 2 months ago

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Living Weapon Whumpee part 8

Warnings: severe touch starvation, forced living weapon/fighter, captive living weapon

He tried so hard to rest, but it was practically impossible in the stress position the chains and cuffs kept him in. They pulled on his arms and shoulders, making them ache and cramp.

He was exhausted when the door to his concrete prison opened again, followed by blinding light. He hadn't slept a wink the whole night.

"Breakfast," a harsh voice announced, and when Whumpee's eyes adjusted he found himself staring at a muscular man holding a plate full of food and a pair of metal tongs that stalked over to him. An aura of angry energy floated around him, and Whumpee frowned in confusion. He didn't recognize this man, so why was he ticked off? Whumpee hadn't done anything to him.

The man marched up and used a hand to tear the muzzle off his face. The intoxicating scent of the food hit Whumpee all at once, overwhelming. It made his stomach growl loudly. He hadn't eaten anything in far too long.

The man took the tongs and snatched up a piece of cooked meat, shoving it in Whumpee's face.

Whumpee didn't hesitate to wolf it down. It wasn't the best-tasting thing in the world, but compared to the pile of mush he was usually fed at Leader’s base that was packed with every last vitamin he needed for optimal performance on the battlefield, it was heavenly. Everything about this felt so wrong, but Whumpee felt himself... enjoying it. Such a strange feeling it was. Foreign. He was eating real food.

“If it were up to me, I'd let you starve and rot to death in here,” the man remarked off-handedly, and Whumpee slowed down in his chewing, eyeing him with sudden wariness.

The man's eyes were harsh and accusing as they bored into Whumpee's. “You killed my wife in that town you murdered. If Flint didn't order me to feed you and keep you alive, I would kill you right now. And it wouldn't be painless.”

Whumpee wasn't sure how to respond as another bite was stuffed in his mouth with the tongs, hard enough to make him gag.

“...Did she suffer before you killed her? Did any of the townsfolk?” The man growled.

Whumpee shook his head. “No… none did. My kills are always clean and quick,” he croaked weakly.

The man managed to look both relieved and anguished all at once, and didn't say another word as he fed Whumpee the meal, giving him a bottle of water to finish it off at the end. Then he stormed out, and Whumpee was left alone once more with only his own troubled thoughts to keep him company.

Three days of captivity passed, and after a rough start Whumpee began to find tricks to make survival a fraction more tolerable. One of those tricks was discovering that if he locked his knees and leaned his weight back against the wall he was chained to, he could finally get some sleep without the awful discomfort that came with being forced to stand up for so long -- though his muscles and joints still always ached in the mornings from the awkward position he was constantly kept in.

He stayed compliant and obedient the whole time, left alone except for feeding times and the rare occasions Flint showed up again to question him some more. But the fourth day was different. Someone came in a few hours after Whumpee had been given breakfast, something that hadn't happened before.

And Whumpee was thoroughly surprised to find that it was Myra slipping into his room. She quietly shut the door behind her before skipping over to where Whumpee was trapped against the wall without a shred of caution or fear.

"Flint told me I couldn't come see you without him there to supervise -- which is a stupid rule in my opinion -- but he's always too busy with work... so I came here all by myself!" Myra explained chipperly. She looked so innocently proud of herself, and Whumpee couldn't help the muffled chuckle that escaped him, amused.

Then Myra frowned, glancing from the metal cuffs on his wrists to the thick leather muzzle. "That's kind of mean that they did this to you," she remarked, and came close, lifting her arms and trying to reach the muzzle on Whumpee's face to take it off. She wasn't nearly tall enough to reach it, though she still tried her best, standing up on her tip-toes and stretching her arms up as far as they'd go. Whumpee was simply too tall, despite him leaning his head down in an effort to help, and the highest Myra's hands could reach was the front of his broad shoulders.

She eventually gave up with a frustrated, annoyed huff, looking at Whumpee apologetically. "I wish you could talk," she sighed, and pulled something out of her dress pocket. "How else are you supposed to comment on my drawing!"

Drawing...? Whumpee's brow furrowed in confusion as he watched the young girl unfold what he realized was a piece of crumpled paper, then turn it and hold it up as high as she could so he could see it, smiling widely the whole time.

Whumpee blinked in surprise at the scraggly stick figure shown that had several random lines on its face like scars, and was pushing... a tall black box?

"It's you," Myra giggled, "when you pushed the dresser in front of the door at my house to keep out the monsters. Remember?"

Whumpee did remember. And more than just that. There was something specific about what Myra had said, and now Whumpee couldn't stop thinking about it, scratching his memory for the feeling of familiarity that had picked his conscience.

It's a picture of us from the beach... remember?

Someone's voice, someone he knew... but where in his past was it coming from?! It was like the blonde girl he'd seen in his dreams previously... a foreign memory, yet oh-so-familiar...

"...Whumpee?"

Whumpee snapped out of the nostalgic trance, realizing he had spaced out and was staring blankly at the far wall.

Sorry, he said with his eyes, then looked meaningfully at the stick-figure drawing. It looks nice, he tried to express.

Myra beamed happily, a proud smile that lit up her whole face. "I knew you'd like it! Do you know how to draw?"

Whumpee thought about it, then shook his head sadly. Leader had never taught him how to draw, write, or even read. His only goal was to make Whumpee into an invincible killing machine. And weapons didn't need to be able to make art. But seeing that stick figure on the paper made Whumpee realize just how much Leader had really stolen from him, all he'd missed out on.

"Well, once Flint is done making sure you're not sick anymore and lets you out of here, I can teach you how to draw!" Myra offered giddily.

Except... that's never going to happen, Whumpee thought grimly. But is that what Flint had told his daughter? That Whumpee was sick? How long would the general be able to keep up the lie before Myra finally realized he actually had no intention of setting Whunpee free? Ever? Myra was young and innocent and gullible, but she was bound to notice eventually.

...But maybe it's better if I'm trapped here forever. Whumpee hung his head. I could hurt someone if I'm ever let out... but right now, I'm harmless. It's safer for people like Myra if I remain contained...

"Hey, Whumpee? Are you okay?" Myra's worried voice filtered into his thoughts, and he lifted his head to look at her. "It's part of being sick, isn't it? Why you're so... space-y right now?"

Whumpee decided to go along with the lie Flint had already set into motion, for Myra's own good, so he nodded.

"Oh... so you must be pretty tired then, aren't you?" Myra's excitement deflated when he nodded again. "Okay, uh... I'll... I guess I'll go, to let you rest. I'll see if I can come back soon though!" She shuffled her feet sheepishly on the concrete floor before turning around and heading for the door.

Whumpee let out a strangled whine muffled by the muzzle, desperately wishing he could beg her not to leave him alone. The only person to ever show him innocent kindness... and he couldn't even talk to ask her to stay.

He watched in dismay as Myra left the room, before growling angrily at himself, giving his restraints a useless, frustrated yank.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @i-don't-know-sal @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

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bltngames · 3 months ago

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I Have Complicated Thoughts About Mother 3

Note: Patreon donors can listen to this article as a podcast narrated by me. Click to learn more.

Confined to a tiny room, I pulled out my off-brand retro portable and loaded up the fan translation of Mother 3. It had been on my list of "important games to play" for literal years at this point, if not more than a decade, and playing Mother 3 was bottle necking a lot of other stuff -- for example, I also wanted to play Undertale, but swore I'd need to finish Mother 3 first, despite being very graciously gifted Undertale only a few months after it came out on PC.

Being something I wanted to play, that obviously meant avoiding spoilers. When the ability was added to places like Twitter or Tumblr to block specific keywords, often the first one I'd block was "Mother 3" alongside the names of a handful of characters I knew like Lucas, Claus, and Kumatora.

I'd played a couple hours of Mother 3 once before, right when the translation patch first came out, so I knew what happened in the opening scenes of the game. I knew what a gut punch it was. It definitely worried me, because as I started the game back up, now in 2021, I silently thought about what it would be like playing a game that starts with your player character's mother dying, as I looked up at my own bed ridden mother.

It was May of 2021 that she developed debilitating back pain. There was an easy enough explanation for that; we had just gone through a hellish (and potentially legally dubious) renovation forced upon us by the corporation that owned our gigantic apartment complex. Due to a scheduling error, we had less than a week to pack up our whole apartment so they could move us out, renovate the unit, and then move us back in. We attributed her back pain to that moving process -- lifting cardboard boxes and such.

But the back pain kept getting worse. They prescribed her stronger and stronger medication for what they claimed was sciatica, but it never seemed to help. After multiple trips to the emergency room, she was finally admitted to the hospital proper, where her femur randomly shattered during a routine procedure. The femur is the longest, strongest bone in your body, and typically only breaks during extremely violent impacts, like car crashes and stuff. For my mother, it broke as nurses were shifting her around to clean her bedding. Tests for bone cancer seemed to come back negative, so the doctors shrugged at us and considered it a freak accident and just the toll of old age.

There was no way she was making it back up the stairs to our apartment any time soon (if ever), so it was decided she'd have to heal from that broken leg at my brother's place, and since my brother and his wife both work day jobs, I volunteered to take care of my Mom while she got better. Hence why I was stuck in this tiny room, booting up Mother 3 in July or August of 2021.

My Mom never got better. It would be eight months before they told us they had somehow missed detecting her cancer, and by then, it had spread so viciously they weren't even sure where it originally started from. By the time they told us this, she had only days left.

Every step of the way in those 8 months, as she insisted over and over she was healing and told me about all the things she wanted to get back to doing, I believed her. But my Mom also taught me to always expect and brace for the worst. So as I watched Mother 3's Claus and Lucas bury their own deceased mom, there was an undeniable heaviness swelling in my heart. A feeling I could not shake. Though I didn't know yet, I knew something wasn't right, even if the doctors continued to shrug as more symptoms mounted. I could see myself in the same shoes as Claus and Lucas, and I didn't like it.

Once upon a time, I loved RPGs. I cut my teeth on Final Fantasy 2 for the SNES. Though to be honest, I don't remember my time with it very fondly. I didn't really understand the genre; I thought "hit points" referred to points on the body you could be struck at. Like, your elbow is a hit point. Your ear is a hit point. So on and so forth. When the game told me a monster like Scarmiliogne had "3,000 Hit Points", I figured that meant he was a giant, and thus had more surface area to strike at. I was not a very bright kid, but in my defense, nobody ever bothered to correct me, either.

The first RPG to really stick out in my head was Earthbound (known in Japan as Mother 2). On the surface, Earthbound felt like a kitschy look at hometown Americana, as filtered through the lens of a Japanese writer. Though Earthbound sort of focused on contemporary America when it came out, to me, it's always carried this vibe of Norman Rockwell by way of The Peanuts gang. Though you chat it up with mohawk wearing punks, visit video arcades, and order pizza over the phone, something about its story feels deliberately retro and nostalgic, even in the mid-90's when it first came out.

Earthbound is about leaving home for the first time, feeling sad about it, and calling your Mom at a payphone to cheer up. It's about taking on huge responsibilities while you're still just a kid swinging a baseball bat. It's about going from your house on a dirt road and traveling all the way up to the big city and beyond. It's about making best friends and bullies, and some of those story elements hit close to home for me. It's about finding an inner strength you didn't know was there, and to keep going, no matter what. It's about music and the secret song that plays in your soul.

Earthbound is a warm, deeply heart-felt game that also happens to feature zombies, bubblegum chewing monkeys, time travel, secret civilizations full of unknown creatures, and a sequence where you beat up an entire police force one cop at a time.

That is not the kind of game Mother 3 is.

I suppose I wasn't really sure what I expected Mother 3 was going to be. All I'd really known was Earthbound, plus the 5 or so hours I'd played of the original NES game, retroactively renamed from "Mother" to "Earthbound Beginnings" in 2015. The retro Americana vibes I felt in Earthbound are even stronger in Beginnings. Though the story of Earthbound Beginnings claims it takes place in the 1980's, the visual identity rings much closer to the 50's or 60's. One of round vintage Cadillacs, greasers with big pompadours, and roaming hippies preaching peace and love.

Mother 3 deliberately obscures when and where it's set, for reasons that will eventually become clear. You better get used to it too, because holding information back is kind of a running theme.

Because if I'm being totally honest, I didn't like Mother 3. And at first, I was struggling to figure out why. Earlier when I said "I loved RPGs", that's because my life changed to a point where I felt like I didn't have room for them anymore. Games with lots of dialog meant they demanded my full, undivided attention. When I was sitting at a TV or a computer, I was often multitasking between multiple forms of output -- I'd be doing work while watching a Youtube video or listening to a podcast, and that slowly began to push out story-driven games like RPGs in favor of lighter, more replayable experiences I could engage with while I also did something else.

The one place that was not true was in the portable space. I didn't have a smartphone for the longest time, so I'd often find myself in a commute or on a lunch break at work with nothing to do but pull out something like my Nintendo DS and crank away at an RPG. I devoured games like Final Fantasy IV, Phantasy Star Zero and Bowser's Inside Story. Even games I did not particularly like, such as Kingdom Hearts re:Coded and Pokemon Pearl ended up getting a lot of play.

At some point that changed, and it changed so gradually I didn't even realize it for the longest time. Over the last ten years I have tried and failed to enjoy portable versions of Final Fantasy V and Final Fantasy VI, and found neither game to my taste. FF5 felt far too boilerplate in terms of structure and I simply got bored of it halfway in. With FF6, hype had led me to believe it was some kind of life-changing RPG super-classic, and I came away extremely unimpressed with both its story and its pacing.

Both FF5 and FF6 came at a time after I'd finally gotten a few Android devices of my own -- in fact, most of Final Fantasy V was played on a Samsung tablet while I was at work. By now, I was starting to question whether or not having breezy mobile games like Pac-Man 256 was hurting my ability to commit to longer RPGs, even in the last space where it felt like I could sit down and focus on them.

This is sort of what spurred me to start Mother 3 at all: since I was at my brother's place, my desktop computer and most of my video games were on the other side of town. All I had with me was a 12 year old laptop that was only good as a word processor, and a handheld emulation device called an "Anbernic". As the weeks stretched into months, I needed something to do or I was going to go insane. It seemed like no better time to knock something off my bucket list, but now it was starting to feel like strike three with portable RPGs.

My malaise only added fuel to the fire: am I now simply too distractible everywhere? Would I rather be playing simple, quick-hit arcade style games, forever?

It seemed like the perfect scapegoat, too. Maybe the problem wasn't that Final Fantasy VI hasn't aged very well, and more just the fact that my tastes had changed. After all, Final Fantasy VI is deeply beloved and considered one of the best games in the series. Perhaps I was the problem.

But that's not entirely true. The problem with FF6 is that its story simultaneously felt too complex and dead simple at the same time. By now, I was engaging with RPGs where I'd only play them for 20-30 minutes once a week, and I could never remember what was going on because the plot felt like it was over my head. But when a major event would happen, it was always conveyed in this rushed, shallow way. The reason I could never remember what was going on is because nothing ever felt important enough to leave a lasting impact on me.

That was never true with Mother 3. Even though it took me close to three full years to finish it, it wasn't that hard to recall where I'd left off, even if "where I'd left off" was over four months ago.

No, the further I got into Mother 3, the clearer it became that I was not vibing with the story.

Whereas the first two Earthbound games seemed to be deeply mired in warm feelings of childhood nostalgia, Mother 3 is a bitter, angry game about how much growing up sucks. All three games are of children coming of age and taking their first shaky steps into adulthood, but whereas Earthbound wields rose-tinted sweetness, Mother 3 grabs you by the neck and lays out a cold, harsh reality.

You play as Lucas, who has a twin brother named Claus, and a father, a cowboy named Flint. The death of their mother shatters their entire family; both Flint and Claus have emotional breakdowns, the latter of which ends in Claus running away from home and Flint leaving to go find him. Both of them vanish. That leaves you, as Lucas, in the care of your grandfather, Alec.

Unfortunately for Lucas, the accident that killed his mother was only the start of a dangerous chain of events, and he soon finds himself swept up in adventure in the way RPG protagonists generally do. Earthbound set itself apart from typical RPG tropes by getting away from fantastical elements and basing itself in real life (albeit a strange, exaggerated version of it). Places with bicycles, fast food, and ATMs.

Mother 3 generally avoids this. You're introduced to Tazmily Village, an isolated farming community of log cabins and dirt roads, buried deep within the heart of the Sunshine Forest.

It's not really known when or where Mother 3 is set. Compared to Earthbound's attachment to contemporary America, Sunshine Forest and the areas surrounding it feature strange creatures like dragons, and even old, dilapidated castles. And yet Mother 3 also seems to have more in common with the wild-west-era American frontier than it does anything else, but even that isn't quite right.

Tazmily is presented as the ultimate in idyllic life. It's a place where everybody helps everybody, intrinsically, out of the goodness of their own hearts. Poke around at the start of the game and you'll find that though they do have a jail, it's never been used, because nobody has ever committed a crime.

Until one day, a mysterious man named Fassad appears. He's quick to charm the residents of Tazmily, and introduces the village to the concept of money. He also introduces the concept of deception, as in the night, Fassad steals some of that same money, sowing the first seeds of greed and distrust in these simple people. This rapidly transforms Tazmily from a sleepy, easy-going community to a bustling town of paved roads, automobiles, and even, thanks to further gifts from Fassad, technological entertainment delivered by his "Happy Boxes" -- cubes with embedded, glowing screens that emit a hypnotic signal intended to make people feel good (and more willing to spend their newly acquired finances).

As Lucas, you oppose all of this. Fassad is clearly an evil, scheming man, both establishing and sabotaging a structure of financial power for his own gain, and its changing Tazmily for the worse. Since Fassad has arrived, Tazmily has seen an increase in monster attacks, and eventually even freak lightning storms that destroy whole entire buildings -- which coincidentally always belong to people that oppose Fassad.

Funny how that works.

After Lucas and his grandpa Alec accuse Fassad, he uses his foothold with the people of Tazmily to brand you as a traitor. The very people that once treated you like family now curse your name for daring to threaten their modernized way of life. Soon, the first mayor of Tazmily officially disowns you, your grandfather is locked up in the newly built elderly care center, and your house somehow ends up being the next thing obliterated by the mysterious lightning storm.

It's a hell of a first impression. The dominating message Mother 3 sends in its opening chapters is that things used to be better. Back when it was just people helping people, before the days of television, and cars, and roads, and even money. When the only thing that mattered was the sweat on your brow, the food in your stomach, and where the sun was in the sky.

It felt cynical to me. Jaded. Things were different in 2006 when Mother 3 first came out, but it's hard not to read that today as some extension of the tired complaints around having too many devices and too much convenience. Like that meme that simply blames all of society's problems on having a phone. And it's a well Mother 3 goes back to over and over and over again: that Fassad brings the corruption of money, the corruption of technology, and the corruption of modern civilization, turning the residents of Tazmily into rude, vapid, ignorant zombies who have grown complacent with the increasingly bad things happening around them.

And that's not the only thing in the game that can be read as cynical, either. More than once Mother 3 presents us with scenarios where Lucas faces down adult responsibilities and uses this as a way to express something depressing or frustrating as just being the way the world works. Such as early on when Lucas has to enter a factory as a new employee, and we're told about the joys of child labor -- including the hard hours you're expected to work for minimal pay.

Or how about when you receive a fast travel vehicle halfway through the game. Not only will it become permanently unusable if you accidentally allow it to run out of fuel (pretty easy, considering there's no visible fuel gauge), but refueling it incorrectly will cause it to explode, also rendering the vehicle useless. After all, you're just a dumb kid, and complex machines like these are meant to be cared for properly.

Some of this is definitely meant to be more funny than serious or soul crushing, but the whole game has this rough edge to it that wasn't there in the original Earthbound, where Lucas brushes up against some fact of adulthood and it serves as an uncomfortable lesson. I couldn't help but read it as the game imparting something about how much growing up sucks, and how much that's just a part of life. Your parents will die, your neighbors are ignorant, work sucks and you'll probably mess it up anyway. Get over it.

I even got this impression coming from the game's own upgrade systems. Both Lucas and another party member Kumatora can learn PSI abilities, which are basically the game's magic spells. When Lucas or Kumatora gets strong enough to learn a new PSI ability, they break out in an uncontrollable fever, a status effect that limits your ability to do certain things like sprinting. Until that fever breaks, you have to slowly walk everywhere.

It doesn't really add anything to the experience. It doesn't make the game more fun, or more exciting. It's just one of those annoying things you have to put up with, because again, that's life, kid. Sometimes you get sick and you just can't move very fast.

The overall vibe of cynicism gets even worse as you start encountering Mother 3's handful of references to Earthbound. Mother 3 may go out of its way to forge a narrative separate from Earthbound, but there are definitely more than a few scenes referencing special moments from that game, and at least to me, all of them felt extremely pandering. It was as if Mother 3 was beating me over the head, jumping up and down shouting, "It's that thing you remember! Do you remember? Remember Earthbound? Look, we can do that thing too!"

The further you progress in the game, the more these references change from feeling pandering to almost being mocking. It's eventually revealed that the game's true antagonist, and the man giving orders to Fassad, is Porky, the mean little rich kid from Earthbound. Porky has now become a man who seemingly lives in the past, having constructed multiple shrines of mementos from his adventures battling Ness and friends in the previous game. The ultimate version of this is his monument to nostalgia, New Pork City, the final area of Mother 3.

It's effectively one gigantic theme park patterned after the major locales of Earthbound, all focused around celebrating how great Porky was back then, and how great he apparently still is.

And again, it felt unnecessarily angry. Just like how Fassad conquered and spoiled the idyllic village of Tazmily, Porky had taken ownership over Earthbound nostalgia and made it feel dirty. It felt like Mother 3, a game that went out of its way to be so different from Earthbound, sometimes almost shockingly so, was now spitting directly in my face. Porky, the ultimate obnoxious loser who just won't go away, refuses to let go of Earthbound. And you don't want to be like Porky, do you?

It started to feel insulting. Several times over the course of playing Mother 3, I was considering quitting the game and never looking back because it seemed to be going out of its way to twist the knife. Was Mother 3 somehow bitter about Earthbound's legacy?

Again, I had done my absolute best to avoid spoilers. Blocking Mother-related tags on social media was just the first step. In general, when Mother 3 came up in casual conversations I was privy to, I would quietly excuse myself and find somewhere else to be until I was sure they had changed subjects.

There has been a degree of "spoiler culture" discourse in recent years. Some claim it's a marketing tactic. Marvel movies only make you care so much about spoilers because that's how they get butts in seats on opening weekend. I don't know about that -- I've cared about spoilers my entire life, and I know I'm not alone. The pilot episode of the seminal sitcom Seinfeld ends with Jerry trying to avoid spoilers for a Mets baseball game that he recorded. And that was 1989. It's been a valid concern for much longer than any notion of a summer blockbuster movie.

Simply put, surprises are better when they are surprising. That doesn't mean you necessarily have to like surprises, but I think you'd have to be a pretty sad sack to go out of your way to ruin a surprise for someone else. For people who aren't curmudgeons about it, there are few things better in life than a nice surprise. Something unexpected like that could make a person's whole day, if not their whole week.

If modern movie culture has done anything, it's made people unable to keep spoilers to themselves. Blocking social media terms will only get you so far. When an artist posts a piece of fan art or friends share memes and they don't include any text, then there's nothing for the blocking algorithm to detect. And when a conversation starts with spoilers, there's simply no time to avoid the landmine -- which, to be fair, was the final punchline Jerry suffered in the Seinfeld pilot, as his neighbor Kramer blurted out the results of the game before Jerry had a chance to protest.

Many of Mother 3's biggest mysteries were spoiled well in advance of me ever actually playing the game. The biggest one being the reveal of the mastermind behind the game's Pigmask Army, the aforementioned Porky Minch. Mother 3 goes to great lengths to tease this mystery out across its entire 30 hour run time, dropping major hints as you pass the halfway point.

And then Porky, in his Mother 3 form, cameos as an early boss battle in Super Smash Bros. Brawl, one of the ten best selling games on the Nintendo Wii. Thanks to director Masahiro Sakurai, more people know who the final boss of Mother 3 is than have actually played Mother 3 (or, let's be honest, will ever play Mother 3).

This is why I freely mentioned Porky earlier, because if anyone knows anything about Mother 3 at this point, it's that Porky is the primary villain. The same goes for New Pork City, which was a prominent arena in Smash Bros.

In a roundabout way, Smash Bros. was also responsible for the other major Mother 3 spoiler I bore witness to; Mother 3 pixel artwork ended up being used in other Smash Bros. games over the years, including artwork of other characters with secret identities. That hasn't stopped a number of Smash Bros. fans from casually name-dropping the true, unmasked identity of this character online. I may have avoided conversations about Mother 3, but the tendrils of these spoilers extended far beyond its humble borders. Sometimes, you just can't escape it.

This is not me drumming up any sort of "woe is me" sympathy, mind you. But ultimately, it did have an effect on me. In most of Mother 3's cutscenes, I was waiting for the big reveals I knew were coming. Expectation is everything, and when you're watching every cutscene through a microscope, it changes how you see things. There's the old adage about being so focused on one tree that you miss seeing the rest of the forest, but imagine you're so zoomed in you can't even see the one tree, and you're just kind of... stuck there.

I often wondered if my general frustration with Mother 3's aggressive tone was related to the fact I knew some of its biggest late game emotional beats 30 hours in advance.

Would its numerous Earthbound references still feel so patronizing if I didn't know what was coming? Or would all of its cute little surprises and shocking revelations make for a more enjoyable game over the long term?

Maybe the whole thing started off on the wrong foot in general. It's definitely a choice to play a game about characters processing the death of their mother while you yourself are processing the death of your mother. Characters in the game itself get bitter about this, so doesn't it make sense that I would be, too? Again, expectation is everything, and sometimes you just wake up on the wrong side of the bed. It could have just been a bad time in my life to experience this story.

And to some degree that's true, because the thing about Mother 3 is that I just didn't get it for the longest time.

Despite a big rant about spoiler culture just now, I can't talk about this without spoiling Mother 3's last big secret, because it turns out to be central to the game's entire theme. However, in my defense, I am giving you a big warning: If you've somehow read this far and still care about preserving the game's final mystery (and parts of the ending to Earthbound, too), this is your signal to turn back now.

Okay. Ready?

So while the people of Tazmily are comfortable and protective of their newly developed suburban lifestyle, past the game's halfway point they all start talking about a far off land: the big city. It's a place where dreams are made, or so they're told. And as Mother 3 starts down its home stretch, Lucas and friends return to find Tazmily deserted. Everyone who's anyone has left for New Pork City.

The reality of New Pork City is a lot more depressing than the dream, but then it always would be. The residents of Tazmily find it more trashy than cool. A lot of the theme park rides are broken, and those that still function are kind of dangerous. There's even open sewer vents leaking noxious gasses. And at the center of it all stands the massive Empire Porky Building.

Lucas and his friends are only allowed into the building when the time is right. Until then, you have to wander around New Pork City and explore.

Those open vents turn out to be an invitation to enter the sewer when Lucas's dog, Boney, becomes lost. Reuniting with Boney leads you to discover a secret entrance to the less glamorous parts of New Pork City, and you find yourself in an old, run down apartment complex. Though the hall is strewn with trash and grime, at the very end you find an apartment belonging to a strange man named Leder.

You initially meet Leder very early in the game. He's an older resident of Tazmily known for being unnaturally tall -- well over four times taller than most characters in the game. And to most people living in Tazmily, Leder is known to never speak. His only job is acting as a human watch tower, armed with a bell to be rung when there is danger.

Leder's apartment in New Pork City is reasonably sized for a single person, with two floors, but for a man of his stature, Leder makes the space look tiny. However, by climbing up to the second floor, Lucas can now finally talk to Leder face to face for the first time. As it turns out, Leder can talk, but by being so tall, most people couldn't hear him. Not that it mattered much, given Leder had taken a vow of silence in order to protect the true origin of Tazmily Village. Given the circumstances, and considering Lucas is old enough now, Leder believes it is finally time to learn the truth.

The truth being that despite Mother 3's outward appearance of taking place in a fantasy land full of dragons and chimera, it is in fact a distant future earth. Or, well... what's left of it.

According to Leder's retelling, after bracing itself for the apocalypse, humanity finally found itself at the end of the world as we know it. Facing mutually assured extinction, a select group of individuals boarded something known as "The White Ship" and traveled to the furthest, most secretive location on earth in order to escape destruction. Once they arrived at this mysterious island, those people used a device to erase the memories of their past lives.

The idea was to start over from scratch, free from the bonds that lead to the destruction of the old world. And so, the simple farming village of Tazmily was born. It is very likely that Lucas is one of the first generation of people born and raised in Tazmily.

For years, Leder not only kept watch over Tazmily Village, but over its people, as well. Entrusted as one of the only people who knew the truth.

Tazmily Village was a success. Its people lived in peace and prosperity, free from greed and power. However, one day, a man named Porky appeared. Porky was not from this world -- not from the old world, and not a part of this new one, either. Using the Phase Distortion machine from the end of Earthbound, Porky had been carving a swath of chaos through all of time and space. Having been defeated and ejected from pretty much every other reality, Porky eventually found himself here: the last, most defenseless place on the timeline.

With nobody around to tell him no, Porky set about treating the island like his own personal playground. He used the Phase Distortion Machine to pull in creatures from alternate dimensions, he used forbidden science to establish an army and build factories. And, once Porky became aware of Tazmily and the truth of "The White Ship", he made it one of his goals to restore their memories and further exploit their desires.

Leder's story recontextualizes all of Mother 3. It's not a game about people being corrupted by modern society; instead, it's a game about people being unable to escape it. That, despite their best efforts to run away from it, forget about it, and start over, who they are still catches up to them. When the residents of Tazmily brand Lucas as a traitor, they aren't doing it drunk on their shiny new toys, it's more that their old habits are re-asserting themselves. Not a people being corrupted, but a people who simply had their existing nature freed. Human beings acting like human beings.

This recontextualizes Porky's role in the story, too. More than being the harbinger of nostalgia, Porky takes advantage of Tazmily's amnesia to rewrite history to his benefit. His shrines to Earthbound memorabilia are less about making us remember what happened in the previous game and more about establishing his version of events, where he can refer to Ness, Paula, Jeff and Poo as his "precious friends" instead of what they actually were: the band of kids that stopped him from bringing about the eradication of the known universe.

Instead of shunning the past, Mother 3 is telling us that not only is running away from our history impossible, but in trying to do so, we open ourselves up to an even worse and easily exploitable weakness where guys like Porky get to catalyze their twisted version of history. Only by moving forward, unafraid, with courage and the full knowledge of where we came from, can we create a truly better world. We cannot bury who we used to be; we must accept and grow beyond it.

There is no stronger denouement to this ideal than the game's very, very end.

All throughout the game, Lucas has dealt with two of Porky's highest ranking officers. The first one being Fassad, who brings commerce and greed to the people of Tazmily. The other one, someone I haven't really mentioned until now, is only known as "The Masked Man." Mother 3 pits The Masked Man against Lucas as sort of a rival -- he's one of the small handful of humans you meet able to use PSI abilities, and most of them are identical to what Lucas can do.

In the lead up to actually meeting Porky in the flesh for the first time, Lucas finally catches up with his dad, Flint. Lucas hasn't seen his father in years, not since the incident after their mother's funeral that broke up their family. And yet Mother 3 treats his reappearance as strangely casual. There's no big, emotional reunion. Flint and Lucas barely even acknowledge it. Flint is just here now, another NPC milling about with the residents of Tazmily.

On the way to the final showdown, Flint will suddenly ask you to stay behind. He plans to face Porky alone.

And this is probably supposed to raise all kinds of strange questions. Could Flint be the Masked Man? After all, if Lucas has PSI abilities, maybe that's a trait that runs in the family. Maybe he inherited it from Flint, and that's why The Masked Man has all the same abilities.

But just one or two rooms later, you find Flint completely laid out. He faced Porky and The Masked Man and came away defeated. It now falls on Lucas and his friends to stop them. Before Lucas leaves, Flint offers one more piece of information for us: The Masked Man, the rival Lucas has faced almost the entire game, is actually his twin brother, Claus.

Once Porky is successfully dealt with, the final battle of Mother 3 comes down to brother versus brother. Claus, the boy who ran from his tragedy, and Lucas, the hero, the boy who became a stronger person by overcoming that tragedy.

That's it. That's everything Mother 3 is trying to say. It doesn't get much clearer than that.

Watching the credits roll, I couldn't help but think back to earlier in the game. There I was, having just arrived in New Pork City, and I was talking to my friends about how it had taken me close to three years to finish Mother 3. I'd only play the game in fits and starts because I didn't really like it, but I was forcing myself through it anyway.

One friend told me, "If you haven't enjoyed the first 25 hours, then it's not like the last five or ten is going to change your mind."

It really cannot be understated how talking to Leder completely rewrote my entire perspective on this game. But then you also have to wonder: how many more people were in the same boat I was and didn't keep going? People who got fed up with feeling like the game was bitter and patronizing and just gave up?

I knew there must have been something special in this game. You have to figure that, given the circumstances (sequel to a 10+ year old RPG, only released in Japan), total lifetime sales figures for Mother 3 are probably under five million copies. Probably under two million, if I'm being honest. That's still in the realm of success, especially for 2006, but Nintendo is also a company that deals in games with 20 million, 40 million, even 60 and 80 million plus sales. Mother 3 is some very small potatoes for them.

Despite such a comparatively modest success, Mother 3's influence feels hard to ignore. From fueling skits on Robot Chicken to Adventure Time and Undertale's whole... everything, Mother 3 (and the wider franchise as a whole) is extremely beloved by many, even if it doesn't do record breaking sales numbers.

And that's before you figure in the whole fan translation angle, too. Everything about Mother 3 screams something that should be niche, and yet it's downright prolific.

It demanded more respect than giving up before seeing the credits roll. If I had quit upon reaching New Pork City, I would have missed this game's whole redemption arc.

I suppose, then, that just makes this the chronicle of a long, difficult, emotional journey. One I originally felt like I needed to do more than I actually wanted to. That in itself is just another one of those many things adults just have to deal with, right? That's in keeping with the themes of the game.

And, ultimately, there is light at the end of this tunnel. I guess it's not really about charging forward with courage, it's more that as long as you hold on to yourself, everything will be okay. Everyone has their tragedies. But closing yourself off from tragedy or running away from it isn't going to fix you. Your love is what will save you.

The love you share with family. The love you share with friends. The love you share with the world.

Love meant Flint never gave up trying to save Claus, even as that same boy tried to kill him.

Love led Kumatora, Duster and Boney to stay with Lucas no matter how strange or frightening things became. Together, they faced deadly mutants, the darkest hallucinations, and even had to contend with the possibility that all human life on their planet might cease to exist.

Love was Lucas never abandoning the people of Tazmily, even as they shunned him.

Love will provide you with a strength beyond anything else in this universe. No matter how much adult life beats you down, love will always be the single greatest and most simple thing we all have. Rich or poor, old or young, love is the power that binds us all. It deserves to be cultivated, protected, and celebrated. Love heals all. Without it, we cease to be human. And believing in love is what takes the most courage.

But only through love can we find the way forward.

#writing #nintendo #HAL Laboratory #gameboy advance #mother 3 #shigisato itoi #shogo sakai #essay

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