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Genuine Parts Cummins Battery for Generator Set - Reliable Power Solutions
Genset Battery ensures reliable power supply and starting capability for generators in various applications.
Pulse Battery provides high performance and durability for reliable power in various applications.
Coil Cooler maintains optimal temperature for engine coils, enhancing performance and longevity.
Cummins RECD is a Retrofit Emission Control Device designed to reduce emissions from diesel generators.
Dual Fuel Conversion Kit enables engines to operate on both diesel and an alternative fuel for flexibility.
DG Dual Fuel Kit allows diesel generators to run on dual fuels, improving efficiency and reducing costs.
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Dual Fuel Conversion Kit for Diesel Engines allows diesel engines to run on a combination of diesel and another fuel type.
Diesel Generator Battery ensures reliable starting and operation of diesel generators.
Cummins Recon Engine Price refers to the cost of reconditioned Cummins engines.
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Cummins Gensets deliver reliable and efficient power solutions for various industrial and commercial needs.
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Cummins DF Kit is a dual fuel conversion kit allowing generators to operate on both diesel and another fuel.
Cummins Spares are original parts that ensure the continued reliability and performance of Cummins engines.
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Cummins India offers engines, generators, and related services throughout India, supporting various power needs.
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High-Quality Genset Batteries & Coil Coolers by Pal Svam - Reliable Power Solutions
Genset Battery
Ensure consistent power with our top-quality Genset Battery, designed for optimal performance and long-lasting reliability. Keep your power supply uninterrupted with our efficient solutions.
Pulse Battery
Experience enhanced performance with Pulse Battery technology. These batteries offer exceptional efficiency and durability, keeping your devices powered longer and performing at their best.
Coil Cooler
Boost your system's efficiency with our advanced Coil Coolers. Engineered for superior cooling, they ensure your equipment operates optimally and lasts longer.
Pulse Ultra Lite Battery
The Pulse Ultra Lite Battery combines high performance with a lightweight design. Enjoy maximum efficiency and durability for your devices with superior energy storage.
Dual Fuel Conversion Kit
Upgrade to our Dual Fuel Conversion Kit for flexible and efficient fuel usage. Switch seamlessly between fuels to improve performance and save on costs.
Cummins Retrofit Aftertreatment System
Enhance engine performance with the Cummins Retrofit Aftertreatment System. This advanced system reduces emissions and ensures compliance with environmental standards.
Best DG Genset AMC in Gurgaon
Find the best DG Genset AMC in Gurgaon for comprehensive maintenance and support. Ensure your genset operates at peak performance with our expert services.
Valvoline Premium Blue 7800 Plus
Valvoline Premium Blue 7800 Plus offers exceptional engine protection and performance. With superior lubrication and extended drain intervals, your engine runs smoothly and efficiently.
Diesel Generator Battery
Depend on our high-quality diesel generator batteries for reliable power. Designed for durability and performance, these batteries ensure consistent starting power and support effective generator operation.
Cummins Recon Engine
Pricing for a Cummins Recon engine varies by model and specifications. For accurate details, contact a Cummins dealer or authorized distributor directly.
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Receive top-tier Cummins AMC service in Gurgaon, ensuring reliable engine maintenance and support. Our skilled technicians provide comprehensive service with genuine parts for peak engine performance.
Dual Fuel Conversion Kit for Diesel Engines
Improve efficiency with our dual fuel conversion kit for diesel engines, allowing smooth operation on both diesel and alternative fuels.
DG Dual Fuel Kit
Enhance your generator's versatility with the DG Dual Fuel Kit, offering flexible fuel options to boost efficiency and cut operational costs.
Cummins RECD
Cummins RECD (Reconditioned Engine Component Division) provides high-quality reconditioned engine components that meet stringent performance and reliability standards.
For reliable Cummins service, Genset maintenance, and DG support, choose our expert team for comprehensive care, ensuring optimal performance and longevity with professional service and genuine parts.
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END-WORLD NORMOPATHY | source
#talos gifs#end-world normopathy#reckless battery burns#team 6x111#ghost and pals#vane lily#cruormor#and the carbon monoxide but that would be a pre existing tag#static#flash tw#glitch tw#eyestrain#pulsing lights#body horror#robot gore#animatronics#ask 2 tag#like with all my gifs these r free to use but credit is appreciated#vocal synth
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A Captain sees her ship for the first time.
Some random art for: @temper-temper
#Art#Random Art#FairChild#temper-temper#My Little Pony#MLP#Pegasus#Space#Science Fiction#Spaceship#Project Orion#Orion Space Battleship#Nuclear-pulse propulsion#Wisconsin#Idk I thought you might like this haha#Also yes that is indeed 16 inch gun battery from the battleship Wisconsin being attached to the space battleship Wisconsin#Because why not?
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Sorry for the general lack of activity I've been busy experiencing every emotion at once (complicated feelings due to mounting personal revelations) giving my cat medicine after he suddenly got sick (he's better now!! :D) and playing the latest Big Run in Splatoon (I hit the top 1% score bracket) and I am currently at this moment waiting for my own guts to stop trying to murder me in cold blood (nothing serious don't worry about it) I want to catch up with everything I've been missing soon. tumblr friends I miss you. love yuo. I am very sleepy gootnight
#personal pulse#feeling a bit... tumblr user higherhell dying in a glue trap. but in good spirits#hope I am back up to regular battery levels soon uogh
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If Your Kid's Electric Scooter Stops Working, Check Out How I Fixed One
In this article I deviate from auto maintenance to show how to troubleshoot and repair an electric scooter.
Electric scooter are very popular for kids. Just in my neighborhood alone I see kids riding their electric scooters up and down the street nearly everyday. My Nephew’s daughter has one that she loves, which is a Pulse Resvster 200 which can be found at pulsescooters.com. But one day it just stopped working. Being a mechanic by trade means that whenever pretty much anything stops working, your…
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#Batteries#Battery#Electric Scooter#Kid&039;s Scooters#Motor#Multimeter#Power Supply#Pulse Resvster 200#Soldering Gun
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#https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/power-tool-lithium-battery-market-overview-analysis-demand-khandade#Global Power Tool Lithium Battery Market Size#Share#Trends#Growth#Industry Analysis#Key Players#Revenue#Future Development & Forecast#global market insights#global research market report
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Thinking about being too drunk to cum, being stuck right on the border of it as you pathetically whine and moan as you try your hardest. Toys dying left and right while it's not enough. It isn't until your roommates walk in after a night out that you can suddenly find that release you crave.
Nothing else is working.
You’ve been at it for an entire hour, til your clit feels numb from the vibration of your wand and the batteries have died in your other toys. Your fingers are pruned where you slip them inside your pussy. You’ve watched porn that you would rather die than admit to, the kind of videos that usually have you googling ‘can my roommates see my website history on our internet bill’ once you’ve come down from your high, except tonight the high won’t come.
You’re loose and relaxed and so fucking wet and nothing is working.
Then the idea comes, and it makes you flush hot all over. You glance over at the clock on the nightstand and see ten minutes until your roommates promised to be home.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
You tug on a pair of loose shorts and nothing underneath. Slipping from your bedroom, you creep into the living room. The flat is eerily silent without Simon’s heavy footsteps and Johnny’s endless chatter, but the silence has your blood pumping faster, your pulse wringing in your ears. Nine minutes.
You plant yourself on the couch right in front of the front door and slip your shorts off until they dangle from one ankle. You should have laid a towel down; you’re so wet you’re going to make a mess on the couch, but there’s no time to make a detour to the bathroom. You drag your fingers through your slick folds and up over your swollen clit.
Eight minutes. But it could be early, you think to yourself, working your fingers faster. After all, who arrives home exactly when they say they will? You imagine it vividly in your mind: the door opening, your roommates’ stunned faces at the sight of you spread out on the shared space’s couch, legs spread and fingers knuckles deep inside yourself. Just the thought makes you flush all over.
But it pushes you closer to that untouchable edge, that peak you’ve been chasing all night. You feel it in your belly, growing, swelling like that spongy spot inside you that you pause to tap your fingers against, thighs trembling. Six minutes, oh god. But imagining their dark eyes on you? It’s working, your nipples tightening into aching little peaks, your toes curling. Did you just hear the elevator opening—are those voices coming closer to your door? Just a little further—
The scratch of the key in the lock sends you over the edge, rips a groan from your throat as your pussy clenches down around your fingers, longing for something thicker to hold onto but happy to take what is long overdue. Your fingers are soaked, palm wet as you wrench your shorts back on and up—
Just as Johnny and Simon come in. They take in the sight of you sitting on the sofa, breathing like you’ve run a marathon, and share a glance with each other.
“Alright, lass?” Johnny asks, slipping his shoes off.
“Great,” you breath, pussy still fluttering. “Welcome home. Have fun tonight?”
You make small talk, subtly wiping your fingers clean on your shorts and edging towards the bathroom. You make your escape as soon as you can, rinsing your hands clean, legs still shaking from your orgasm.
“She was definitely rubbing one out,” Johnny mutters under his breath as soon as you’re out of sight.
“No shit, Johnny.”
“Knew we should have taken the alley home. Would have been here in half the time.”
“Next time.”
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pulse | c.sc
pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader
genre: smut, just smut alksjfdkgjhh
warnings: fingering, exhibitionism, kissing, drinking, like two mentions of weed lol sex?, i've never done warnings before ahh, fingering, voyeurism (sort of? not really?), kissing (is this a warning?), there's no p in v omg, so how do i tag this 😭, this is really short omg, i think fingering covers it, ohi! some drinking? neither of them are inibriated though. imo, would that make this dubcon? feel implicit to me. god sorry, im posting this when im drunk, v will wake up tmrw and tell me if this is dumb or not omg.
wordcount: 1.6k
a/n: happy friend anniversary to the second love of my life 🥺v!!!! @hannieween, i love u so much so here's the first smut thing i've fully finished writing and also the first time i've published smut omg. i love you and i love cheol and i really hope this makes u both horny and happy and would love nothing more than if u feel anger (horny anger) after reading this, yay!! target demographic met! to everyone else reading this, pease let me know what u think! even if u hated it omg 🥺i want to know both what u liked and didn't like so my writing can become better. uwu ily all <3 also, again, im drunk, so if there's any grammar mistakes, ima fix it tmrw alksjdhkflhgbksdfgkjd. okay byeeee, enjoy!!!!
"Baby, are you done yet? She just texted that they parked," Seungcheol shouts from the living room.
"Coming!" You yell back, swiping the last bit of lipstick on and giving yourself a once over in the mirror.
Seungcheol's standing by the front door, looking up from his phone when you walk in. He rakes his eyes over you, the clear skin of your neck, down your collar bones, to the cleavage disappearing into your shirt. The sliver of skin between your tight shirt and mini skirt. The bare skin of your plush thighs.
You fidget under his gaze, "Is there something wrong? Do I need to go change?"
"God, no baby. You look—" he swallows hard, running a hand through his blond hair, "—you look hot."
A fierce blush blooms across your cheeks and you tuck you hair behind your ear. "Oh. I—thanks?" You clear your throat, "Y-you do too babe."
And he did. A tight black polo stretched across his pecs, its short sleeves snug around his biceps. Light wash jeans barely holding his thick thighs in.
You want to drop down to your knees, right then and there.
Seungcheol reaches his hand out and you take it. He pulls you in for a kiss, letting his free hand roam down your body, pushing your skirt up to cup your ass, giving it a squeeze.
You pull away first, smacking him lightly on the chest, "Seungcheol!"
He's got no shame though, as he pulls you out the door, laughing.
The two of your were not going far tonight. Just two floors down, to the apartment of a Joshua Hong. Long time friend of Seungcheol's, Joshua was having some friends over to look at the new vaccum he bought.
"It's got even better suction than the last one and the battery life lasts forever," says Joshua, showing off the lime green vaccum in the middle of his living room. Seungcheol's standing next to him with their other friend, Jeonghan. His arms are crossed in front of his chest, and his eyebrows furrowed as Joshua talks. Momo, Josh's next door neighbor, is crouched by the vaccum, eyeing its different attachments.
"How is it with pet hair?" She asks, and you feel that this is your cue to go grab another drink.
In the kitchen, Jeonghan's girlfriend is mixing some sort of concoction in a big punch bowl. She whips around at the sound of your footsteps, "There you are! Where have you been? I texted Seungcheol when we parked."
You send her a sheepish smile, "Got caught up on the new technology."
She rolls her eyes, "You lot are so boring."
"Trust me, you'll be the same once you're in the work force like us boring adults." You go to grab a cider from the fridge.
She scoffs waving her ladle in your direction, "Oi, pipe down Grandma. We're nearly the same age! You'll be sorry when I'm a professor. Don't make me give you detention."
You laugh, "Alright, alright. Don't fail me professor, clearly I was wrong. " You duck just as she swings the ladle at your head.
It doesn't take long until nearly everyone at the apartment is either drunk or baked. You don't know what she put in that bowl, but after seeing Momo passed out on the pool table, you were glad you stuck to your ciders.
You head back into the living room after cleaning up a spill in the hallway (whoever gave Jeonghan jaegerbombs, why?). Dino and Mingyu, Seungcheol's friends from school, are sprawled on the ground in front of the TV, Mario Kart forgotten, passing a lit joint between each other.
Seungcheol's sat back on the sofa, manspreading, and showing off his deliciously thick thighs, taking periodic sips of a Corona. He spots you across the room and you send him a shy smile.
Seungcheol motions at something with his eyes and you tilt your head at him, confused. He snaps his chin in a quick motion but you still don't understand and he lets out an exasperated breath. Settling further into the sofa, he pats his thigh. Your eyebrows shoot up, looking around the room, but no one's paying you all any attention.
Slowly you make you way to him and, once at his feet, he swiftly gets rid of the cider in your hand, pulling you into his lap with a low, "Come here, baby girl."
Your body heats up as his hands sit on your hips, fingertips grazing the sliver of skin between your shirt and skirt. Your skirt.
When you chose your outfit for today, you had felt good, confident even. You made a choice, to wear a new lingerie set you'd bought the other day. The thought was that, maybe, you and and your boyfriend would get up to some fun when you got back home.
But now, you'd never regretted something more. As Seungcheol adjusts you over his thighs, slotting one in between your legs, the fabric of his jeans rub against your delicate lace panties.
Your pussy pulsates and you've never been more embarassed. You will it to stop, but Seungcheol chooses that moment to dig his fingers into your hips, tensing his thigh, and your pussy throbs.
Little campfires breakout across your cheeks and you find yourself sinking back into Seungcheol's chest in shame. His breath fans across your ear, "Baby, why didn't you tell me you missed me." You can hear the smirk he's probably wearing, but even worse, you're sure he can feel the dampness pooling between your legs.
You should get up. But you know you can't. You know your wetness has seeped onto his jeans, leaving a dark spot, evidence of your need. Everyone would know.
His hands feel like they're burning into your hips, and he leans to press a sweet kiss to your exposed shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine.
You feel Seungcheol move, and then a blanket is draped over your lap, covering your entire bottom half from any onlookers. Though one look across the room told you not a single person was paying you two any mind.
Seungcheol rubs his hand back and forth over your tummy, the touch feeling like hot coals dragging across your skin. Back. Forth. Back. Forth
Then, his fingers slip past the waistband of your skirt.
You don't say anything as you feel his fingers skate across your clothed mound. When he finds your lips, he pushes down with two fingers. You suck in a breath and hold, mind going completely blank.
You should push his hand away. Scold him with a serious, Seungcheol!
But you don't.
Arousal flows out of you, staining his jeans. Evidence of your want, no, your need for your boyfriend.
Seungcheol, the devil he is, starts rubbing the slowest, most languid, circles, smirking into your neck when you start squirming in his lap.
"If you don't like it, you can just get up and leave baby," he whispers, nipping at your ear lobe.
You subtly shake your head no, worried that if you open your mouth, the most obscene sound would come out.
Seungcheol uses his other hand to pull at your thigh, spreading your legs further apart. He pushes your barely there panty aside and plunges a finger in. Your breath hitches at the sensation and your eyes flit around the room, but no one is paying you two any attention.
Seungcheol starts to pump his finger at a torturous pace and you try to keep your breathing even. He ghosts his lips up your neck, whispering, "Can you handle one more baby?" You shake your head with a quick no, biting down on your bottom lip.
Seungcheol's finger freezes and a low whine escapes your lips.
You move your hips just a little bit, chasing what little friction you could find, but Seungcheol tightens the hold on your thigh. "Seungcheol," You mean it to come out stern, but your voice is breathy and light.
"One more baby," Seungcheol nudges your neck with his nose and lets his teeth graze your skin. A shudder rolls through you as your pussy clenches around his single, slender finger.
You already know you've lost. You need Seungcheol to make you feel as full as possible. You nod shyly.
"Hmm?" Seungcheol says quietly, "I need to hear you baby." You can hear the smirk in his voice.
"Yes," You breathe out, looking around again to see not a single person paying attention. Seungcheol pushes his second finger in and you bite your lip again to stop the moan that nearly comes out.
Your breathing gets heavier as he curls his fingers just how you like it and your thighs start to tremble as you near your peak. "Are you close baby?" You nod as your fingers grab at the blanket in your lap. He continues to curl his fingers, a little faster now.
Your breathing turns into little whimpers that you try to keep down, but to no avail.
Seungcheol whispers one last, sweet, "Let go for me love," and you're cumming, releasing all over his fingers as he lets you ride them through your high before pulling out.
You hear the pop! of him sucking the taste of you off his fingers and you feel your juices leaking out, soaking into his jeans. You lean your head back onto him, eyes squeezed shut, out of embarrassment or pleasure you don't know.
"Good girl," Seungcheol whispers, rubbing a warm hand over your tummy, and leaving a soft kiss on your cheek. "You did so well for me, baby."
a/n: omg okay. this whole this was started because my lovely lovely v asked me do you think he'd be the type to sit you down on his lap to feel your pulse through your pussy? so this is really ur fault love sldjfsldfgldkzfgjdzfgkjdzfklhgb. let me know ur thoughts lovies!!!!!!!!!
© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO CTRLALTDAISEE I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS, OR REPOSTING OF MY WORKS ON THIS OR ON OTHER WEBSITES
#seventeen#seventeen fanfic#seventeen smut#seungcheol x reader#choi seungcheol#title: pulse#daisee.writes#band: seventeen#member: seungcheol#joshua#jeonghan#dino#mingyu#seungcheol smut
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SILK STRINGS & PEARL RINGS, SCARAMOUCHE
ʚɞ kisses with the weight of pain and bruises colored like love — his heart hits like a punch and you’re the sucker to catch it.
WARNINGS ݈݇- fem!reader, referred to as kuni, impact play, asphyxiation, biting / marking, hair pulling, degradation, name calling, praise, creampie, overstimulation, more scaramouche than wanderer, minors & dc antis do not interact!
NOTE ݈݇- hey . . hey . . how y’all doin ^w^ ive been gone a while becuz tumblr wasnt it anymore nd life was lifeing ! am back now bc i missed u guys nd missed being a freak :c theres sm of u now — thank u sm for 900+! ! i loveee youu loads xoxoxooo Anywayyy i hope u enjoy this quick littl drabble to flex my muscles :3
WORD COUNT ݈݇- 1.1k
LIMBS LIKE STRINGS OF silk: soft, pliable, and delicate, all in the hands of an unworthy sinner. His rough callouses rub burning patches on your skin as he runs his hands across your supple skin. Even the finest silks blemish under unclean hands and you are no exception — you're the example.
The name he bears stumbles out of your mouth in broken gasps and he only wishes you would shut up; he tells you again and again in hopes of your compliance, to no avail. Your voice is a constant reminder of who he is to you and, otherwise, who he’s destroying for superficial, fleeting pleasure. He’s far too deep to pull away now and scurry away—he has no choice but to double down and bump the sense out of your brain in hopes of fogging your memory. It works in a skewed way: condensing your mind to the two syllables of his name. “Kuni! Kun—i!! God, Kuni—!!!” Your pitiful screeches play on broken recurrences.
And as the master weaver he is, your pleasure is sewn up to its peak for what feels like the millionth time. Your body quakes and trembles, quivering under his weight and attempting an escape jaggedly. A hearty, choked-up whine jumps out of your chest, “Sto—I can’t! K-Kuni, please—!”
Deaf ears ignore your cries and pound deeper, harder—slamming his pelvic bone against your twitching clit. His hands move from the expanse of the mattress to your neck: pressing you into the mattress with pressure on the sides of your neck just right. “Shut the fuck up,” he grits, rolling his hips into you. “Just shut up and take it.”
Your eyes roll into the back of your head, lashes fluttering rapidly as, quickly, your brain computes nothing but pleasure.
His hips snap against you with such intensity, that it makes you feel like he hates you. It borders on painful, eliciting sharp lightning rods to pierce and prod around your body. The sheer weight of this impassioned thrusting has you jolting up the bed and thrashing around under him, looking to escape the white-hot harvest of pleasure pulsing in your pussy.
On top of you, he burns a pretty rose that can only be described as fire. The tight grip around his cock fills his head with foggy air—but it's the wetness that spools around his length: splat, splat, splat, that sings out the lost orgasms from rounds previous and ample arousal. It’s that that has him grumbling out blurbs of pleasure, chasing his orgasm that rests in your depths.
Every sensation is heightened tenfold with the ever-demanding charge that is being fed in your tummies. Every pulse, squeeze, leak, prod—all of it is akin to plugging you up to an orgasm charge-port and capping off the battery.
It’s too much; you scream that out enough until you can't gather enough air to breathe, let alone speak. Kuni agrees with you but he really, really, wishes you would shut up. He can't think and with every sound you make, he’s urged on in this unshakeable, carnivorous desperation to fuck harder. He's not immune to pleasure; he may be more susceptible to its threats, in fact. Knitted brows and screwed eyes blind him to the overstimulated writhing you enact, wriggling under his touch in vain hopes of reprieve.
Tears stream down your cheeks to mix with a layer of slobber splayed on your skin—a pitifully nasty mess, born out of the relentless palms of your man. He has the liberty to see you at your most vulnerable: degeneracy painting itself all over your body. A beautifully disgusting mess, you are, and he only makes it worse.
Stirring around your guts is his angry hard-on, circling your walls in shaky rolling manners, letting you both rest against the other and heave out deep breaths. The tip grinds against your g-spot and has you whimpering weakly, slapping his forearms and rolling your stomach. “I’m gonna—”
“Don’t you fucking dare.” He grits, grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging your head to the left. The stinging burn that dances at your roots has you wincing and whining, scrunching your face up. “Hold it.”
“I c-can’t, Kuni!” Just as the words leave your mouth, his hips are re-angled to push up into your pussy, the right-bound hook he sports curving right up to a gummy cushion in your walls. They contract around him and he groans, tightening his grip on your hair.
He dives into you, letting his hands grip your waist as his head wedges itself between your chin and shoulder. “Get it through your thick fucking skull,” he berates, nipping your collarbone. “You can't cum until I say so,”
His hips grind upward, drilling his dick deep into your depths that the hoarseness in your voice is shaken off for a shrill yelp to be squeezed out. He laughs at you menacingly, sinking his teeth into your shoulder to then circle the mark with his tongue. “Take it like a good bitch and I may be nice to you.”
Not a word he said will be upheld. You're so good—the best girl for him and he still dangles your release in front of you. Like a dog to a thick bone, you pant and whine in anticipation of being thrown your Achilles heel.
Exhaustion catches up to him and he can only lazily rock into you. His left hand presses on your stomach as he does so, trapping pressure in your tummy and mixing deliciously with your pleasure.
Heat swims beneath your skin and spills out beads of perspiration, gluing your bodies together.
Proximity; your bodies are so close and burning up fervent flames that swallow you down. Like the pliable silk you are, you slip around under his hold and that knot your stomach is tied up in easily unwinds.
“You’re coming, aren't you?” He shakily asks, exhaling deeply. If you aren't, he is.
Your non-answer is answer enough—he moans pathetically in your ear, falling apart as he ruts into you.
Holding on is a thing of the past as he slams against your sweet spot, unfurling his orgasm into you in milky ropes. Simultaneously, you release your biggest orgasm yet, splashing against his stomach and streaming down your legs. The pressure pushes him out with a grunt, a sadistic laugh of his echoing in your head.
Your swollen pussy is shining in pearlescent, bubbled strings, rolling out of you in a gushing mix. Oh, it's nasty; and you're utterly destroyed—flushed and blemished and patterned in bites, bruises, and prints. Your lips are swollen and bitten; your eyes are low-lidded and teary; your face is sweaty and tear-stained; your body quivers and spasms and Kuni thinks that you've never looked better.
Reprieve only lasts a mere moment before your legs are pushed up to your shoulders, spreading and stretching your limbs to their limits. Drawing out a whine, you speak hoarsely, “What’re you doing? No more..”
“I never told you to cum, did I?”
A break quickly becomes a distant memory.
#genshin impact smut#genshin impact x reader#genshin smut#genshin x you#genshin fanfic#genshin imagines#genshin x reader#genshin headcanons#gi smut#gi x reader#scaramouche smut#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x you#scaramouche x y/n#scaramouche fanfic#wanderer smut#wanderer x reader#wanderer x you#wanderer fanfic#wanderer headcanons#kunikuzushi smut#kunikuzushi x reader#kunikuzushi x you
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Hint: If you ever encounter this puzzle in a crossword app, just [term for someone with a competitive and high-achieving personality].
A Crossword Puzzle [Explained]
Transcript
[A square 15x15 crossword puzzle is shown. Only 21 of the 225 squares are black. The black squares are in a pattern that are 180 degree rotationally symmetrical. Three black squares down from the 11th column and similarly three black squares up from the 5th column. Three black squares out from the right in row 7 and then two more black squares diagonally up from the end. Similarly three black squares out from the left in row 9 with two more black squares diagonally down from the end. A single black square is three above the first black square on the diagonal going down to the right and similarly there is a black square three under the first of the diagonal squares going down to the left. (Row 6 column 12 and Row 10 column 4). Finally there are three black squares on a diagonal crossing over the central point by going up from the left through the central point (Row 8 column 8). There are numbers at the top of every column (except the one that is a black square) and similarly at the left edge of all rows (except the one that is a black square). There are also numbers at the bottom of every black segment (except the one that reaches the bottom) and all rows after black segments except the one that reaches the right edge. In total all numbers from 1 to 51 is written. They are written in reading order from 1 to 51.]
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51
[Below the square there are two rows of clues for each number that belongs to across (rows) and to the right there are one row of clues for each number that belongs to down (columns). Both segments have an underlined and bold title above the clues. ]
'''Across'''
1. Famous Pvt. Wilhelm quote
11. IPv6 address record
15. "CIPHERTEXT" decrypted with Vigenère key "CIPHERTEXT"
16. 8mm diameter battery
17. "Warthog" attack aircraft
18. Every third letter in the word for "inability to visualize"
19. An acrostic hidden on the first page of the dictionary
21. Default paper size in Europe
22. First four unary strings
23. Lysine codon
24. 40 CFR Part 63 subpart concerning asphalt pollution
25. Top bond credit rating
26. Audi coupe
27. A pair of small remote batteries, when inserted
29. Unofficial Howard Dean slogan
32. A 4.0 report card
33. The "Harlem Globetrotters of baseball" (vowels only)
34. 2018 Kiefer song
35. Top Minor League tier
36. Reply elicited by a dentist
38. ANAA's airport
41. Macaulay Culkin's review of aftershave
43. Marketing agency trade grp.
44. Soaring climax of Linda Eder's ''Man of La Mancha''
46. Military flight community org.
47. Iconic line from ''Tarzan''
48. Every other letter of Jimmy Wales's birth state
49. Warthog's postscript after "They call me ''mister'' pig!"
50. Message to Elsa in ''Frozen 2''
51. Lola, when betting it all on Black 20 in ''Run Lola Run''
“Down
1. Game featuring "a reckless disregard for gravity"
2. 101010101010101010101010 [sub]2→16
3. Google phone released July '22
4. It's five times better than that ''other'' steak sauce
5. ToHex(43690)
6. Freddie Mercury lyric from ''Under Pressure''
7. Full-size Audi luxury sedan
8. Fast path through a multiple choice marketing survey
9. 12356631 in base 26
10. Viral Jimmy Barnes chorus
11. Ruby Rhod catchphrase
12. badbeef + 9efcebbb
13. In Wet Let's ''Ur Mum'', what the singer has been practicing
14. Refrain from Nora Reed bot
20. Mario button presses to ascend Minas Tirith's walls
24. Vermont historic route north from Bennington
26. High-budget video game
28. Unorthodox Tic-Tac-Toe win
29. String whose SHA-256 hash ends "...689510285e212385"
30. Arnold's remark to the Predator
31. The vowels in the fire salamander's binomial name
32. Janet Leigh ''Psycho'' line
34. Seven 440Hz pulses
37. Audi luxury sports sedan
38. A half-dozen eggs with reasonably firm yolks
39. 2-2-2-2-2-2 on a multitap phone keypad
40. .- .- .- .- .- .-
42. Rating for China's best tourist attractions
43. Standard drumstick size
45. "The rain/in Spain/falls main-/ly on the plain" rhyme scheme
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Hi, just read one of your fics and I loved it. So I wanted to make a request. You can choose the driver you think fits best. But just a fic about the read being an introvert, she’s not shy. For example she doesn’t go to the after parties with her bf, or attend all the events. She loves hanging out with people but her social battery always runs out. Idk if that makes sens
Thank you, and hope you have a good December:))
♡ navigation / request info / f1 masterlist / tennis masterlist
♡ warnings: mention of alcohol
♡ a/n: im so happy for mclaren!!!!! thanks for the request! im on a writing streak so request are heavily appreciated :)
The music pulsed from the next room, the bassline a steady thrum that vibrated through the walls of the hotel suite. Lando had kissed your cheek before disappearing into the lively afterparty, promising he’d check on you soon. You had encouraged him to go, of course. He thrived in these settings - at parties, surrounded by friends, laughter, and celebration.
But you had a limit.
It wasn’t that you didn’t like parties - you would usually dance a bit, laugh and even talk with some people. But after an hour, each passing minute feels like torture. The club filled with fun turns into a small room with drunk people, everything gets too loud and suffocating. And Lando understood that, he appreciated that sometimes you would come out of your shell just to celebrate his win. He always quickly noticed when it started getting too much, almost like a sixth sense. He would end his party earlier just for the sake of your comfort.
You loved that but you didn't want to limit him like that. That’s why you two agreed that it's okay if Lando goes alone. You trust him and he understands that you wouldn’t be bored alone. Now, you sat curled up on the plush couch in your suite, a book propped open on your lap. Your phone buzzed softly against the cushion beside you. Picking it up, you saw his name flash on the screen.
Lando: "You okay? Need anything?"
You: “No, I’m good :)”
Lando: “readin?”
You: “Of course”
You: “Why are you texting me btw? Shouldn’t you be partying?”
Lando: "Because I want to. Also, Max just spilled his drink trying to argue with George. You’re missing a show."
You laughed softly,
You: "Sounds like prime entertainment. Take notes for me?"
Lando: "Actually, I’m recording it."
You react with a laughing emoji and get back to your book.
Meanwhile, Lando stood by the bar, a glass of a colorful drink in his hand. The party was in full swing and he couldn’t help but let the energy of the room lift his already good mood.
Max sidled up beside him, nursing a beer “Where’s your other half?” he asked, scanning the room. Lando chuckled, “They are upstairs. Thought about coming but decided to sit this one out”. “Ah, the infamous social battery,” Max replied with a knowing nod. “They are great, though. I don’t know them well but it seems like they always put in the effort for the important stuff”. “Exactly,” Lando said with a smile. “They came to the track, cheered me on, and hung out after the podium. That’s more than enough for me”.
Across the room, Carlos caught sight of the two and made his way over, drink in hand. “Hey, where’s your partner? Thought I saw them earlier,” he said, a slight slur betraying how many drinks he’d already had. “You did,” Lando said. “They came by for a bit but left before the party started. You know how it is - they love everyone here, but only for so long”. Carlos nodded. “They are smart. These things can get overwhelming”. “They are not shy, though,” Lando clarified, knowing how easily people misunderstood her. “They are great with people, but they know when they have had enough. I think it’s awesome”.
Daniel, overhearing the conversation, joined in with a laugh. “It’s true. I remember at that one dinner, they had us all cracking up, and then two hours later, they were like, ‘Okay, I’m done. Goodnight.’ No hesitation”. Lando grinned, proud of them in a way he couldn’t quite explain. The group laughed, and Max clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, give them our best. And let them know they are welcome anytime - even if it’s just for an hour”. “Will do,” Lando said, a warm feeling settling in his chest. It was always nice to see how much they liked you, even if they didn’t see you often.
“Lando?” you called, surprised. “Expecting someone else?” he teased, stepping into the room with a grin. His hair was slightly damp with sweat, and his shirt was rumpled in that charming, carefree way he always managed. “I thought you’d stay longer.” you say setting down your book. “I could tell you were getting bored without me,” he said with a wink, crossing the room to sit beside you. “You know I’m fine on my own,” you said softly, though the warmth of his presence already made the quiet room feel cozier. “I know,” he replied, leaning over you. “But I missed you. Plus, Max started singing, and that’s when I knew it was time to leave". You laughed, hugging him. “You didn’t have to come back early, you know". He pressed a kiss to the top of your herd “I know, but I wanted to”. “Lando, go shower, you’re sticky!” you chuckle feeling the sweat and champagne on his skin.
Abu Dhabi, 2024. Last race of the season.
The celebration was in full swing, with champagne flowing and music blaring. You found yourself enjoying the party, maybe due to McLaren’s victory. You danced with Lando, laughed with his coworkers and even joined in a few toasts.
You were standing next to the bar, chatting animatedly with Lily and Carmen. You were laughing at something one of them said, your face lit up in a way that always managed to take Lando’s breath away. You weren’t one for late nights or crowded rooms, but tonight, you seemed to be having fun, and he couldn’t help but feel a little proud - and grateful - you’d come.
“Look who’s finally dragged them out,” Max teased, nudging Lando as they both watched you from across the room. Lando grinned, taking a sip of his drink. “They are here on her own terms. Didn’t take any dragging”. Max raised his eyebrows in mock disbelief. “Sure, mate. But seriously, it’s good to see them”. As if on cue, you turned your head, catching Lando’s eye. You gave him a small smile before returning to your conversation.
Lando waved you over, and without hesitation, you excused yourself from your conversation and made your way to him. “Everything okay?” you asked as you stopped in front of him, your voice light. “Yeah,” Lando said, his hand instinctively finding its way to your waist. “Just admiring how good you are at stealing the spotlight”. You laughed. “Hardly. I’m just trying to keep up with your crowd”, “You’re doing more than keeping up,” Max interjected, leaning around Lando. “You’re running the show”. You grinned at the compliment, then turned back to Lando. “You didn’t tell me Max got funnier after a few drinks”. “I didn’t know he did,” Lando shot back, earning an exaggerated gasp from Max.
The party continued, and after a few more drinks, you started to feel a pleasant buzz. You found yourself becoming more clingy with Lando, your arm around his waist and your head resting on his shoulder as you chatted with the others. Lando noticed the shift and smiled gently. “You’re getting a bit tipsy, love,” he whispered in your ear. “Maybe it’s time to head out?”. You nodded, your eyes a little hazy but happy. “Yeah, let’s go”.
Arm in arm, you made your way back to the hotel room, both of you (not so) slightly more tipsy than when the night began. Once inside, you sat on the bed, big smile on your face as Lando joined you. “This was such a great night,” you said, your words slightly slurred but filled with genuine happiness. “It really was,” he agreed, wrapping his arms around you. “And now, we shower and we can just relax”. You snuggled closer, feeling the comfort of his embrace. “I love you, Lando". “I love you too,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now, let’s get some sleep. We can celebrate till March”.
december 9, 2024
#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#lando norris imagines#lando norris fluff#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris x you#lando norris x gn!reader#gn reader
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^ They never should've given me this button because I'm so low energy lately that I just use it like a bookmark for things to reblog later instead of reblogging them right then and there, and where does that leave me? 111 drafts and zero activity for weeks, that's where. :/
#personal pulse#the social battery level lately is Not Good#as an aside though#thank you whoever reblogged the poll asking which tumblr theme you use the other day because that is how I learned there are themes#and the vampire one is doing a lot for me right now. feeling very enriched in my enclosure every time I'm greeted by black and red.
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Lust Among Thieves [part one]
Raider!Joel Miller x reader x raider!Tommy Miller
Summary: Survival is a skill that everyone had to gain after the world ended. Your father was killed in the Boston QZ, leaving you alone and forced to survive all on your lonesome. Just to eat, you had to steal from strangers, but unfortunately, you picked two of the worst people to target. What you didn’t expect was the lust that steadily built between all three of you. Warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI, dubcon definitely but not quite noncon, reader is held hostage by Joel and Tommy, threesome, canon typical violence, mean!Joel and manipulative!Tommy, unprotected sex, slowburn, angst with a happy ending NOTE: this is a fic i've cowritten with my bff joelmillersgirlfriend!! she has sooo many good fics over on her A03, her most recent one is called Hangover In the Sunshine and if you don't go read it I'll cry kay <3 Read on A03! MASTERLIST
It felt as if every vein in your body was pulsing, begging for a moment to stop and breathe in fresh oxygen. You couldn’t stop moving though, you had to keep running like your life depended on it - because it did.
You had grown desperate after fleeing the QZ. In the QZ there were rations, yes, but it had never been full on starvation. You had to steal from them. You had no other choice.
But now you were caught and fleeing the scene, tumbling through the thick Massachusetts snow. The sound of rapid steps behind you made you speed up, your worn boots crunching in the snow. You had seen the two men from afar, both broad-shouldered and scary. They weren’t like the other raiders you had encountered in the city, loud and rambunctious. Those were easy to spot, easy to avoid.
These two, on the other hand, were cool, quiet, and calculated. The only reason you had the upper hand was because you watched them from inside the city, following them back to the cabin they resided in deep in the woods. You watched silently from the window as they unpacked everything they had scouted out; food, batteries, medicine, even something as futile as beer.
They didn’t need everything that they had. So, every time they went into the city, you would steal little by little. You didn’t anticipate that they would actually notice. You made sure to cover your snow tracks, but they were simply too observant.
A hand suddenly wrapped around your wrist, yanking you back hard enough that the air was knocked out of your lungs. You huffed and fell to the ground, the snow melting around your aching body.
“Got the bitch, Tommy,” graveled a voice from above you. Before you could turn and glance up, you felt a heavy boot press into the side of your face. It smushed your face into the snow, the heat of your cheek making the snow burn as it melted against your face.
“Let me go,” you growled, flailing your body in an attempt to escape. The weight of the boot on your face shifted, a warning. You could tell that if this man wanted to crush you under the boot, he very well could.
You could hear a low whistle blow behind you, the man who you assumed was “Tommy” beginning to speak. “Damn, brother. She’s a feisty thing. Didn’t think a little girl was the one comin’ and stealin’ our food.”
“A little girl who took what didn’t belong to her. I say that we make sure that she never steals again,” spoke the voice from above you. Pathetically, your eyes watered at the threat.
“P-please,” you begged, clenching your fists into the snow. “I’m sorry, okay. I-I’ve been out here on my own, I would’ve starved.”
“Not my problem,” growled the man from above once more, his boot pressing harder into your face. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to breathe from the weight of his foot.
“Come on now, Joel, she’s beggin’ so nice. She’s young, could be real fit if we put some food in her. She could be useful,” Tommy said, tutting at the sound of your sniffling.
“I didn’t sign up for no babysittin’. She would be just another mouth to feed,” Joel grumbled.
“No,” you pleaded, whimpering when Joel’s boot heel shifted, pushing into your throat. You gasped, wrapping your hands around his thick calf. Even though you couldn’t turn your head to look at him, you still clawed at his leg, trying anything to get him to relieve the pressure. “I can be useful.”
Your words sounded more like wheezes at this point, but suddenly, both men were silent. Perhaps they were exchanging glances, silently conveying a message without even speaking. Whatever it was prompted Joel to release his boot from your neck, finally allowing you to breathe. Your coughs were rough and raspy, interrupted by you taking in deep breaths.
“She’s your responsibility. If you wake up and see her standin’ over you with your own gun, don’t be surprised.”
Instead of replying, you felt four hands grabbing you and pulling you up. Two held you in place while the other two tied your hands quickly. You didn’t even have the opportunity to glance back before you were being dragged forward, a heavy palm wrapped around your wrist.
“Names Tommy,” greeted the voice from beside you. Tommy leaned forward, his face just inches from yours. He continued to walk even as you stumbled over your own feet, overwhelmed by the sudden proximity of the stranger.
Seeing him from afar did him absolutely no justice. Long, dirty blonde hair, bright eyes, and a charming smile that made your face warm, despite the situation.
“What’s a little thing like you doin’ all the way out here? Shouldn’t you be cuddled up with your daddy in the QZ?” Tommy asked, but not with malice. He held a natural curiosity behind his words.
You didn’t speak, unable to form a coherent sentence, too busy thinking about the situation at hand. What were they going to do to you? Kill you? Torture you?
“Don’t worry,” Tommy said in a hushed whisper, trying to hide his sentence from Joel. “I won’t let nothin’ happen to you. You’re safe.”
As much as you wanted to believe him, you couldn’t. Not even when you got back to the very same cabin you had stolen from earlier. Not when Tommy removed your restraints, because when you finally got a good look at Joel, you knew he’d kill you if he got the chance.
All arms and frowns and enthralling gazes - just the thought of being alone with him made your stomach drop.
“Why are you doing this?” you asked Tommy when he pulled you into one of the bedrooms, sifting through the drawers to find you something dry to wear. He glanced back at you, his aquiline nose enhancing the rest of his side profile. He was certainly nice to look at, as much as he shouldn’t have been.
“Joel can be… rash sometimes,” Tommy sighed, glancing back at the drawer. “You don’t deserve to die just because my brother is throwin’ a fit.”
Finally deciding on a shirt, Tommy slunk back over to where you were standing. The backs of your legs were pressed against the rotted bed when he approached you. You had nowhere to run, nowhere to move.
You looked up at Tommy, at this staggering man who was at least a decade older than you. You should’ve been trembling in fear, scared of the anticipation of what they might do to you. Instead, you found yourself oddly excited, suddenly fearless.
Being in the QZ, you lived a strict life. Your father, the guards - you had no freedom. At least now, you could decide your fate. Try to run away, or play along. Make Tommy and Joel happy until eventually, you could slip away.
Tommy used his free hand to run across your bottom lip, pulling a stray piece of hair away. His eyes moved down from your eyes straight to your lips, watching the way they opened. He pressed his index finger into your mouth, spreading your lips slowly.
“Wonder what this mouth could be useful for, baby. You said you’d be useful for me, right?” Tommy whispered, leaning down to brush his lips across yours. Goosebumps erupted across your body, an unexpected rush flooding in between your thighs.
The sound of someone clearing their throat made Tommy pull back, not quite kissing you. You glanced back to see Joel standing in the doorway, most likely watching everything. The expression on his face wasn’t one you could read, but the way his shoulders were squared off told you everything you needed to know.
“Get changed. Knock on the door when you’re done,” Tommy commanded, handing you the fresh clothes before walking out of the room. He shut the door behind him, but you could still hear the hushed whispers from the hall.
“Jesus, if you fuck her, Tommy, I’ll kick your ass back to Texas.”
“Well, what do you suggest we do with her then? We can’t kill her, Joel. She’s a little girl.”
Even with the door closed, even with a sound barrier, you can hear his frustration. “She stole from us. You got no idea who she belongs to. Could be part of a bigger group. What happens if we let her go and she brings back a whole other world of problems? She knows where we sleep, Tommy.”
There’s a single, fleeting moment of hesitation before he says again, “No. We’re not going to kill her. That’s not who we are.”
“Isn’t it?”
You don’t bother to listen to the rest of their bickering. That moment of doubt was enough to remind you how dangerous a situation you’ve wound up in, bringing you back to the task at hand.
The room is small, furnished with little else but the withered bed and beat-up dresser. There are two windows with sheets hung up in front of them, but of course, they’re both nailed shut.
The nightstand beside the bed has a lamp on it. You could use it to smash the window open, but they’d hear the shattering of glass and be on you in a minute.
You try to pry out the long, iron nails securing the window closed. The rust turns your aching fingers a sickly shade of orange, a vivid reminder of how you’re stuck and at the mercy of two strangers.
“Goin’ somewhere?” spoke a voice from behind you, making you jump in surprise. Both Joel and Tommy are standing near the entrance of the bedroom, watching you as you try to escape. They must’ve opened the door when you were trying to pry the window open, too distracted by your hopes of escaping to notice the men.
Shaking your head no, you cowered in the corner of the room, praying that Tommy would protect you from Joel’s wrath.
Tommy stood behind Joel with his arms crossed, a small expression of disappointment painted across his face. He truly had faith that you wouldn’t try to escape, which was as endearing as it was ridiculous. Of course you’d try to escape.
“Guess you can’t leave her alone, Tommy. If she eats, sleeps, pisses, you better have an eye on her,” Joel growled, his eyes staring daggers at you.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your free hand still clenching the clothes that Tommy gave you. Joel’s eyes move down to the clothes, then back up to you.
“He gave you a chance to have some privacy, but you fucked that up real quick,” Joel said, nodding his head in your direction. “Get on with it.”
You hesitated, glancing at both men with wide doe eyes. “With what?”
Joel huffs, crossing his arms without even explaining any further. Both men were mirror images of each other, arms crossed and gazes heavy. You glanced over to Tommy, thinking that maybe he’d rescue you from the situation. It shouldn’t have been a surprise to see the toothy grin that spread across Tommy’s mouth, his eyebrows raised in excitement.
He shrugged, but the smile on his face showed you just how much he was enjoying the situation. A wave of anger washed over you, at how much neither of them cared. They weren’t as bad as other raiders you had encountered; cannibals, rapists, slavers. Still, they were holding you hostage, upping the ante if you made any mistakes.
Your hands shook when you gripped the wet puffer jacket that was covering most of your upper half. You slowly pulled it back, the nylon material swishing against your body, dropping to the ground at your feet. Pausing, you looked to see Joel looking away, a frown etched into his face. Tommy, on the other hand, was watching you like a hawk.
The skin on your stomach broke out in goosebumps when you slid it up, exposing your warm skin to the brothers. Joel still wasn’t looking, confusing you. Why would he order you to undress for him but not even watch?
Soon, you were standing in just your worn bra and panties, reaching to grab the fresh clothes.
“How long have you been on your own?” Tommy asked suddenly, making Joel glance up at you in response. You stood there stupidly, attempting to cover yourself from their gazes. It had been months of scavenging on your own, rarely finding something to last more than a couple of days. You knew that you had lost an uncomfortable amount of weight, but you didn’t need Tommy to point it out.
“I thought that you assumed I was with a group?” you asked, your face turning pale from the way Joel looked at you. A seemingly permanent scowl reappeared on his face, the muscles in his arms flexing, like he was controlling himself not to close the distance between you.
“Okay, smart ass,” Tommy snorted, rolling his eyes at you. “I can tell you’ve been on your own, with how skinny you look,” he pauses before speaking again. “Must’ve been hard.”
You swallow, nodding stiffly at the statement. It was unbearably difficult, fleeing the QZ after you watched your father get executed. Though your relationship with him was on the rocks, he was all you had left. You had to survive on your own, on the outside. You heard stories growing up in the QZ, of how dangerous it was outside of the city walls.
The rumors were nothing compared to what you had seen.
“It has been,” you whispered. “Hard.”
Something shifted behind Joel’s eyes before he turned away, brushing by Tommy as he walked out of the bedroom. Tommy frowned at the sight of his brother exiting the room.
Turning back to you, he spoke, “Well, hurry up and get dressed so you can get somethin’ to eat. I’m sure it’ll do you good.”
You nodded, shivering in the corner of the room. “Cold.”
Tommy laughed, that Cheshire grin of his making your stomach twist. He moved over to you, rubbing his palms against the skin of your bare shoulders. His large, rough hands moving swiftly over your shoulders, the consistent friction creating a warmth that started from your shoulders and spread between your thighs.
“How’s that feel?” Tommy asked, rubbing his thumbs into the collum of your neck. He added a bit more pressure at the tip of his fingers, digging them into your now-warm skin.
“Good,” you squeaked, still clenching the shirt in your hand. Tommy’s hands left your shoulders, pulling the shirt away from you. He raised your arms up, letting his hands slide over the skin of your wrists, higher, higher. Slowly, he worked the worn, long-sleeved cotton shirt over your frame. When your head peeked out of the hole of the shirt, Tommy winked down at you, brushing your hair out of your eyes.
“You’re a pretty thing,” Tommy whispered, moving down to his knees to remove your boots and help you step into the shorts he had given you. His hands slid up the shorts, warm palms spread across the apex of your thighs. You could hardly bring yourself to look down at him, the heavy look in his eyes making a shiver run down your spine. “I told you, I’m not gonna let anybody hurt you, and that includes Joel. Just try not to set him off, alright?”
You nodded, watching Tommy run his lips across the skin of your thigh. His mustache tickled your skin, but you couldn’t bring yourself to react to the feeling. You were frozen and your eyes couldn’t move away from Tommy’s.
He kissed a path across your thigh, creating a trail of goosebumps. “Don’t let me down.”
“I won’t,” you whispered, experimentally extending your hand to run through Tommy’s hair. It was long and shaggy, but surprisingly soft, the strands falling through your fingers easily. Tommy hummed at the feeling, those sharp canines making yet another appearance.
“As much as I’d love to let you braid my hair, we better not leave Joel waitin’. He’d get suspicious,” Tommy joked when he stood, groaning at the sound of his knees popping.
You pulled your hand back, peering up at Tommy through heavy lashes. This was insane, you were insane to be entertaining his advances. But, he wanted to take care of you. He could protect you.
“Suspicious of what?” you asked, blushing when you felt Tommy’s hand take hold of yours. He laced his large fingers through your own, grinning down at your question.
“Of me not being able to control myself. Now, come on,” he spoke, pulling you along with him, not allowing you time to process his words. Your clothed feet followed Tommy out of the bedroom, down the hall, and into the tiny kitchen and living room space. Joel was using a portable burner to warm up some food, not even looking up when both you and Tommy walked in.
“Look, Joel,” Tommy said, gesturing to you. “It’s your favorite.”
You watched Joel’s frowned face meet your own before dropping to look at your shirt. Your eyes followed, reading the name Bob Dylan. Tommy snickered at Joel’s expression; full of frowns and impatience. Their dynamic was interesting, to say the least.
Even though you should have felt scared of Joel, you found yourself relating to him. To use anger and lack of empathy. After watching your father die, and losing everything, you understood that empty feeling that you recognized in Joel.
“The moment I saw it, I knew you would like it. She winnin’ you over yet?” Tommy asked, pulling your hand to walk further into the kitchen. Joel rolled his eyes, propping his body up against the counter behind him. He was so broad-shouldered, you couldn’t even process how he fit in the tiny kitchen.
“Cute. Can’t say she is, Tommy,” Joel grumbled, stirring the pot that he was working on. Tommy released your hand, joining Joel in preparing dinner.
“I really am sorry,” you suddenly sputtered, both of the men looking at you in response. “I was desperate. In the QZ they always had at least some food, I-I’d never starved before.”
Tommy’s smile faltered, his eyes meeting Joel’s in a silent conversation.
“You were in a QZ? What are you doin’ out here?” Joel asked, cutting off the gas burner. You could feel a shift in the energy, though you couldn’t figure out what exactly it meant.
You nodded. “Went to the Boston QZ with my dad when the virus hit. I was there ever since.”
“But now you’re not.” Joel huffed. “Why?”
“It's not important,” you whispered.
Joel’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t test me,” he replied.
Tommy’s eyes caught yours, silently pleading for you to play along. After all, you did tell him that you would try to stay on Joel’s good side.
“They killed him there, and they were going to kill me next. I had to flee.”
He stares at you for what feels like a long time, skin burning beneath his gaze. In the moment of silence, you see the similarities between them; they share the same rugged exterior, the same aquiline nose, the same crease between their brows. Though Tommy’s quite a bit softer, face not contorted into a perpetual scowl like Joel’s.
“Your dad,” Joel says simply. Not a question but rather a demand for information. An order.
You shake your head, averting your gaze. “It doesn’t matt-” you began, but after you saw the dark look on Tommy’s face, you corrected yourself. “There isn’t much to say. He broke FEDRA rules, so they made him pay.”
“Not much of a daddy’s girl, I take it?” Joel questioned. This was the most that Joel had looked at you since the moment you met him, and the heat of his gaze was overwhelming. It felt like an interrogation, a “good cop, bad cop” scenario - with much higher stakes.
“He was all I had,” you said, tone wavering. The room was heavy, shrouded in uncertainty. Neither Joel nor you spoke or created a new rebuttal. The silence lasted for a couple of minutes before Tommy spoke.
“Come on, you two. You can play twenty-one questions later. Let’s eat before the food gets cold.”
And even though Joel had only warmed up a few cans of chicken noodle soup, you swore that it was the best thing that you had eaten in years. Maybe it had to do with the fact that you hadn’t had a meal in days, but either way, it was delicious.
“Slow down, little girl. Gonna make yourself puke,” Tommy teased. He sat across from the table with you, his feet propped up the table as he ate from the bowl in his hands. Joel was sitting alone in the small living room, slowly sipping from his bowl.
“It’s been days,” you spoke in between bites. Tommy nodded, suppressing a grin.
“Yeah, we know. You really dug into our stash the last time you came. When was it, a month ago now?”
You swallowed, sheepishly avoiding his smile. “Thirty-eight days. It lasted for twenty-seven of them.”
Tommy hummed. “That’s a long time with no food. I can’t blame you, for what you did.”
“Tommy!” Joel hissed from the living room, but his brother paid him no mind.
“Come on, Joel, be serious. She’s harmless. Probably spent the past ten years livin’ in the QZ, that’s half her life. She hasn’t seen what it’s actually like out here; she hasn’t lived it.”
Joel exhales through his nose angrily, turning back to focus on his food. “I’m over this conversation.”
And when Joel said he was over, he meant it. For the rest of the night, you were a ghost to him; invisible. Even later on, you were sitting with Tommy on the small couch in the living room. Tommy was pulling information out of you - what your name was, where you were from, if you liked living in the QZ - but Joel didn’t bat an eye. The only question that made Joel shift in his seat at the kitchen table was “How old are you?”
“Twenty-two,” you said, suddenly very aware of how insane the situation was. Both of the men were probably almost double your age, rabid, dangerous, but you weren’t really scared. You were more so… intrigued. They had fed you, and Tommy had comforted you. Maybe being with them wasn’t any worse than being on your own.
“Christ,” Tommy exhaled, “Barely old enough to drink. Not that that matters anymore.” He reached down, pulling his bag over from the corner of the couch. His slender fingers produced a bottle of Jack, half empty. “Was gonna use it for a Molotov but I think we could all use somethin’ to take the edge off. Ever have some of this before?”
You shook your head. “I’ve only ever drank vodka,” you admitted, watching how Tommy’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “I had some friends in school who would steal bottles from some of the stalls.”
“Bad influences,” Tommy said, instantly becoming hypocritical when he passed the bottle of jack over to you. You took it from him, glancing down at the bronze liquid glowing from the setting sun. Your fingers twisted the cap off, swishing the liquid back and forth before you took a swig.
You winced at the feeling of the liquid fire running down your throat, a chortle coming from the end of the couch. Both your throat and face were burning with the way Tommy was grinning at you.
“Got a little somethin’ right there,” Tommy said, reaching across the couch to wipe up the excess liquid that dribbled down your chin. He brought his index finger to his lips, sucking the alcohol from the tip of his finger. “Mmm. Sweet as pie.”
The heat on your face made you take another sip of the alcohol. A sudden scrape came from the kitchen, with Joel standing up tall and reaching for his rifle. “I’m taking watch.”
He was out of the house before you could blink.
“He’ll come around,” Tommy reassured, taking the jack out of your hand before swallowing down a big swig.
“There’s a half-decent bed in that room there,” Tommy said, gesturing to the hallway. “You can lay down if you’re tired. It’s been a long day for all of us.”
You eyed the bedroom, gazing longingly at the queen bed. You spoke before thinking through your next words. “You’re being very nice. Why?”
Tommy locks eyes with you as he drinks from the jack bottle. “‘Cuz I think you’re cute,” he winks when he finishes swallowing. He stretches out his long legs, resting them on the small coffee table before leaning his head back. His throat is exposed, showing off his thick and unruly beard.
“Either take the bed or I’m gonna beat you to it,” Tommy paused to yawn. “I’m exhausted.
Standing, you took his advice. Tommy’s eyes were shut, not watching you trail into the bedroom. You momentarily considered running to the front door but for all you knew, Joel was standing right outside. You needed to think, work slowly to build their trust, and then try to escape.
“Thank you, Tommy,” you said from the bed, climbing in and tucking yourself beneath the sheets. He hummed from the couch, not sleeping but also not paying you much mind. It was surprising how much he had already begun to trust you. His trust would be easy to win over. Joel’s… not so much.
Stretched out in the bed, you doubted you would be able to fall asleep. Your thoughts were racing, your father's death, being held captive. It was just too much to sink in. You glanced around the room momentarily, taking note of how this bedroom lacked windows. No escaping through here.
What made things so much worse was how you found yourself watching Tommy resting on the couch. His Adam’s apple bobbed each time he swallowed, his long, slender legs stretching across the coffee table. His long, layered hair covered his face from you, and you could practically feel the way it felt between your fingers.
You thought about how he had kissed you earlier, all of his affection confusing you. You shouldn’t be attracted to him. He was holding you captive.
Pathetically, you found yourself thinking of Joel as well. Of his heavy presence, of how he could make the energy in the room shift just by stepping into it. The heat of his gaze shouldn’t have made your palms grow clammy and your head go all fuzzy; in both fear and some sort of weird attraction. Men in the QZ weren’t like Joel and Tommy, not rugged and full of pure testosterone.
Somehow, in between creating escape plans while simultaneously reminiscing about the way Tommy’s palms felt against your skin, you ended up falling asleep. Your dreams were full of images of strong, thick hands, as well as crunchy snow. You weren’t sure how long you were asleep before being woken up by Tommy.
He was leaning over you as you groggily blinked up, uncertain of what was happening.
“I’m about to take watch. Joel will be on the couch now. Everythin’ okay?” Tommy questioned, brushing his fingers across your forehead to see your face more clearly. The light from the lamp streaming from the living room into the bedroom accentuated Tommy’s features. This could be a moment where you use his flirtation to your advantage.
Without thinking, you laced your fingers through his hair. It was a quick, instinctive action that ended with you pulling Tommy in for a kiss. The kiss was rushed, fervent, an electric buzz shocking your entire body and making your pussy hum in excitement.
He took every opportunity to deepen the kiss, nipping and licking at your lips. You’re manipulating him, using him to your benefit. It doesn’t mean anything, it’s only natural for your body to react to the feeling of his hands running across your throat.
“Well, good mornin’ to you too,” Tommy laughed into your mouth, pulling away. A web of spit connected between your lips, both of your eyes moving to watch the string break. “Fuck. Aren’t you full of surprises?”
He glances over to Joel, who is stretched out on the living room couch. His arm was thrown over his eyes to block the light of the lantern, not paying any attention to what you and Tommy were up to.
After realizing that Joel wasn’t watching, he used both of his hands to cradle your face. He kissed you so passionately that it was almost hard to breathe, a mashing of lips and teeth. One of his heavy hands reached down to palm your breast, experimentally squeezing a handful. The sensitive peak of your nipple brushed against your bra from the way you were arching your back, making you gasp into Tommy’s mouth.
“I’m gonna be hard for you the whole damn time I’m on watch,” he whispered, pulling both his hand and body away from you. He stood over you, adjusting himself in his pants.
“Be safe,” you said breathlessly, running your palm across his hand. Tommy shot you a toothy grin, flipping your hand over into his own.
“Yes ma’am,” he replied.
Your plan was working.
In fact, it was working incredibly well for you. You were slowly starting to gain Tommy’s trust, and you had survived past the first night. Nights turned into days and soon it was weeks that you had been held captive by the men.
Tommy couldn’t help but grow close to you, not with the way you would bat your eyes at him when Joel wasn’t looking. You clung to him like a dog, trying to work anything out of him. It wasn’t before long that he finally spilled some information.
“Why does Joel have a stick up his ass?” you asked Tommy, helping him gather the wood that he had just chopped.
“Hey now, watch your mouth,” Tommy said, but the amused smile told you that he agreed with your statement. “He wasn’t the same, after outbreak day.”
You nodded, holding a piece of wood to your chest. “None of us were. I was so young when it happened. I’m glad that I can’t remember what it was like.”
“It was terrifyin’, not knowin’ what the hell was goin’ on. But losin’ her, that’s what did it for Joel. Wasn’t no time machine to go back in time to fix it.”
He was cracking, getting much too comfortable with you. This was your chance to get something to use against Joel.
“Who was she? His wife?” you asked, making Tommy laugh through his nose.
“Joel was no romantic. She was his daughter, Sarah. Best soccer player in the goddamn world,” Tommy chortled, grabbing the rest of the wood from the snow-covered ground.
It made sense, that Joel had a daughter who died. Only a deep, soul-crushing pain could make someone as empty as Joel.
The look on your face must’ve alerted Tommy that he probably shouldn’t have told you any of that information. His eyes widened as he swallowed, chuckling nervously.
“Don’t tell Joel that you know that.”
And you didn’t. You held the information and waited. The perfect opportunity would arise where you could use it for your benefit.
For weeks you’d watched them. Memorized their patterns, their habits. You’d taken note of every rotation in watch shifts, every outing to gather food or supplies. It’s Tommy’s turn to check the snares today, leaving you and Joel alone in the cabin.
The two of you had established a routine of your own on these days. Silence, as Joel prefers, and to keep far enough away from each other. Tommy didn’t bring up your kiss around Joel, but he was just as flirtatious as ever with you.
They’d fed you, clothed you, returned the strength to your bones. Carved room for you in their lives, despite your unplanned arrival. And yet despite all of this, you knew you had to get out. And if you were to ever have a chance, it had to be today.
Joel sits in the living room, knife in hand as he carves something into the piece of wood to pass the time. You can hear the steady grating of metal, a soft hum that echoes in the cabin.
You don’t get close, too afraid to look him in the eye, too afraid his heavy gaze will deter you. Instead, you stand in the doorway, creeping slowly towards the front door. “Tommy should be back soon, right?”
He doesn’t say anything. Just whittles away at the wood in his hands.
“I hope he catches another deer,” you say, steadily creeping towards the front door. It’s less than a foot away, so close you could reach out and touch it.
But you wait, holding tight to your patience.
“Said he’d teach me how to skin it,” you continue, timing each step with your voice, with the scraping of his knife.
Joel makes a sound at the back of his throat. Not quite a response, but an acknowledgment that he’s hearing you.
You reach out your hand and take the iron lock between your fingers, trying to draw at each syllable as much as possible without sounding strange. “I’m not sure I’ll be any good at it, to be honest with you. All the…the blood, you know? I’ve seen it before, up close, but…it’s different. Isn’t it?”
This time he does respond, and the sound of his voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin. “Blood is blood,” he says.
Unlocked.
You reach for the handle with shaking fingers. Slowly, you twist it open, heart hammering so hard behind your ribcage you can hear the pulse in your ears.
He’ll kill you if he catches you.
But you have to try. You have to.
Gently, you ease the door open. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” you say, voice a little louder than before.
The wind is cold as it hits your face. The most refreshing breath of fresh air you’ve had in weeks, as it’s been the first that’s belonged to you only.
“Blood is just blood,” you say, stepping over the threshold. “I guess, in the QZ, it always just got washed away so quickly.”
The door creaks when it closes. You’ve memorized that, too. So you leave it open in hopes it gives you a couple of extra minutes before he realizes you’re gone.
“Sorry, Joel,” you say. “I’m sure I’m annoying you. Tommy will be back soon.”
You don’t wait to hear a reply.
The moment you’re out of the cabin, off the porch with your feet on solid ground, you start running and you don’t look back.
It’s been so long since you’ve been granted this much freedom, and in only moments your lungs begin to ache.
Still, even with no true destination in mind, you push your legs as fast as they’ll carry you. The snow crunches beneath your feet and your breath fogs in front of your face, but it’s the best you’ve felt in weeks.
There’s an end to the woods somewhere, right? You needed to get out, to find someplace to hole up in temporarily. Someplace that Joel and Tommy haven’t checked a thousand times over. Someplace far.
Tomorrow, you could make a better plan. For now, away was all that mattered.
You’re not sure how long you’re running before you nearly fall against a tree trunk, rough bark scratching against your sweaty palms. Straining your ears, trying to keep your panting breaths quiet, you listen for footsteps, rustling, any sound of life apart from your own.
And when you hear nothing but the wind in your ears, you let yourself feel it for the first time since setting foot in that cabin.
Hope.
“Don’t you fucking move.”
His voice comes a second before the click of his rifle.
You don’t listen.
This time when you begin running from him, your adrenaline is fueled by much more than trepidation. You’re not running for your freedom, you’re running for your life.
Joel’s heavy footsteps are right behind you, his unheaded warning echoing in your head.
You spare a glance over your shoulder to see that perpetual scowl on his face has turned murderous, deadly.
His pace slows only long enough for him to raise his rifle. The shot reverberates between the trees, and pressure builds behind your eyes as you realize how dangerous this man is.
You’ve known it from the moment you’d seen him, but it suddenly feels much more real. He’s going to kill you.
Another shot.
He’s going to kill you.
You run faster, push your legs harder, warm tears sliding down your cheeks.
But Joel’s much bigger than you. Faster, too. And when he crashes into you, sending you both tumbling to the ground, he presses his knee into the small of your back. Pain shoots up through your spine, down to your toes.
He’s speaking but you can’t hear it, can’t hear anything but the sound of your own cries in your ears. You fight him, even knowing you have no chance, even knowing he’s going to take this opportunity to do what he’s wanted all along.
“Please,” you find yourself saying. “Please, just let me go. I’ll never come back, I’ll never tell anyone where you are.”
He laughs. It’s a sick, maniacal sound that frightens you so much more than anything else ever has. “What makes you think I’d believe a single word that comes out of your mouth?”
You can hear the sound of fabric tearing, and then he’s taking your hands in his and pining them against your back. He ties the scrap of his flannel tight around your wrists, immobilizing you.
Trying to break free of the well-practiced knot is fruitless and you know it, but you try anyway.
His breath is hot against the back of your neck. “Stupid little girl,” he says. “Know that whatever happens now, you did to yourself.”
The fear starts to fade and is replaced with exhaustion. Every muscle in your body aches but it’s your mind that simply can’t take the torment any longer. You let out a slow breath, savoring the way your lungs persistently expand, breathing sweet life into your veins. And when you exhale, you say, “Just do it.”
Joel picks up his rifle.
You close your eyes.
His hand is warm as he wraps it around your arm and pulls you to your feet. “Get up.”
He’s taking you back to the cabin? To make for an easier cleanup, you assume. But if he’s going to kill you, you’re not going to have your life to him on a silver fucking platter.
No. If you have to work for it, then so does he.
You pull out of his grasp. “Do it right here.”
“How about you do as I say.”
“Took you for a lotta things, Joel. But I admit, I didn’t think you were a coward.”
His jaw tenses but he says nothing. Just grabs your arm again, hard enough to bruise, and shoves you in front of him. The metal point of his rifle digs into your spine as he pushes it against you. “Walk.”
“No.”
This time he stabs the rifle into your spine so hard a hiss of pain escapes you. “Walk,” he repeats.
What are you to do? You can’t run, can’t hide, can’t fight him off.
You follow his order with gritted teeth. It isn’t until you’re halfway back to the cabin, adrenaline wilting away, that you realize you’re bleeding.
There’s a clean-cut slice through your right shoulder, crimson dripping slowly down the sleeve of your shirt. “You fucking shot me.”
“You asked me to.”
“No, I asked you to kill me. There’s a big difference.” You narrow your eyes at him, to which he gives nothing in response but that stupid fucking scowl.
The sun is beginning to set, casting him in an orange hue. It silhouettes his profile, accenting the scruff on his chin and that thin scar across his nose. The thought crosses your mind that he’d be really handsome if he wasn’t such an asshole.
“Walk,” he says again, announcing each letter.
“No.”
He shoves the point of his rifle into your ribs this time, knocking you to your knees. But then he waits for you to gain your composure, and says, “Make me repeat myself one more time, and I’ll pull the damn trigger.”
Joel wraps the strap of his rifle around his forearm and pulls you roughly to your feet. You expected him to push you forward again, but this time he wraps an arm around your waist and hauls you off your feet entirely.
“Asshole,” you murmur. You contemplate kicking him but know it’s in your best interest to just stay still. With how angry you’ve made him, you can’t imagine there’d be any saving you. Not unless Tommy’s returned from his hunting trip early.
But when Joel kicks open the cabin door, it’s still empty. Your one saving grace is absent.
“Must be hard,” you say as he shoulders you onto the couch. “Blaming the whole world for your fuck ups.”
His jaw feathers as he clenches his teeth. “Feel free to keep quiet.”
“Bet the two of you have done an awful lot to survive. Know you have, ‘cause I have, too. And you and Tommy have been out here on your own far longer than me. If your first instinct was to kill me, I’m sure I’m not the first wanderer to pass through here. Am I?”
He sets his rifle on the counter and runs his hands through his hair. There’s a light dusting of snow on the ends, melting as the seconds tick by.
“You ever killed a girl before, Joel? Or was I going to be your first?”
The muscles in his body go rigid. He turns to you, eyes narrowed. “Watch your mouth.”
It's his reaction, after so little of them, that lets you know you’re on the right track. Your mouth forms a satisfactory grin, which only seems to incite his anger further. “No,” you say. “I wouldn’t have been the first.”
Joel reaches to his wrist, adjusting the broken watch. “Should’ve killed you on day one,” he says. “Before you got your claws into my brother.”
“Who was it?”
“Put a fuckin’ bullet in your head from fifty yards out. Never should’ve even approached you.”
You tilt your head, trying to adjust the position he’d put you in. Your fingers have gone numb, tied too tightly behind your back. “Heard stories about outbreak day,” you say, voice taking on a manipulatively soft cadence. “People had to kill their loved ones when they got bit. Parents, siblings, children. That what you had to do, Joel?”
He crosses the room in a few short strides and takes your face roughly in his hands. “Shut your mouth.”
So quietly it’s almost silent, you whisper, “Who was she?”
In a last-ditch effort to silence you, he wraps his hand around your neck, crushing your windpipe, but all you can focus on is the way he looks at you. Those dark, haunting eyes. Filled with hunger.
Joel looks at you like he’s starving.
And even though you know it’s wrong, know it’s terrible and vulgar, you can’t shake the ache that settles between your thighs as you realize what exactly it is he wants from you.
He lets you go suddenly, running his hand down his face in exasperation. Joel disappears down the hallway for a moment, and you can hear him rustling around, but you don’t realize what he’s looking for until he returns to the living room with gauze, medical tape, and Tommy’s sacred bottle of Jack.
He pours the alcohol over your wound and every muscle in your body tightens at the pain of it. It’s not deep, just a graze from the bullet, but it’s enough to hurt. “How noble of you to treat the bullet wound you gave me.”
Joel doesn’t respond. He dabs the cut with the gauze, cleaning away both the drying blood and the whiskey.
“Can’t believe you missed,” you say, light laughter laced through the words.
But Joel’s not laughing. Not even a little as he tells you, “I don’t miss.”
It can’t be true. You figure it’s just his bruised ego, which is hypocritical considering you’re the one with your hands tied behind your back being mended while he’s got nothing to show for your near escape but a light sheen of sweat on his brow.
But if it is true…and he doesn’t miss, that means he had no intentions of killing you. Joel had every opportunity and every excuse to. Hell—you’d even asked the man to. Yet still, here you sat, untouched save for a scratch.
You’re not quite sure what to make of it.
Now, it’s you who sits in silence while Joel speaks.
“We did what we had to,” he says. “We found this place, fixed it up. It’s ours. Sometimes people get too close. Try to take what doesn’t belong to them. There’s a price for that these days.”
He stays focused on the task at hand; cleaning your wound, placing clean gauze, and taping it to your skin. “Is that why you’re so angry with me all the time? Because you think I owe you something?”
When he tears what remains of your sleeve away from your shirt, the feel of his hands on your bare, sensitive skin is foreign. Not bad, but different from Tommy’s. “You sleep real good at night. Hardly seems like we’re even.”
Joel’s hands are rough and big. There’s dirt beneath his fingernails and wind chap on his knuckles, a display that does something to you. He’s so rugged, so masculine…
“There are other ways I can repay you,” you tell him. His eyes snap to yours, shrouded in a dark mystery you can’t help but lean towards. “I bet it’s been lonely out here. No one but Tommy to talk to. No one to touch but yourself.”
He says nothing. Turns his attention back to patching you up dutifully. But he doesn’t tell you to stop, doesn’t tell you to shut your mouth, and you take it as a sign.
“I’ve been lonely too, Joel. Before the two of you, I hadn’t spoken to a human in weeks. Do you know what that can do to a person? Makes them desperate.”
You can see his pulse quicken in his throat and begin to wonder why you waited so long to try this tactic. It worked for his brother, it only makes sense it would work for Joel, too. He must be just as wanton, just as deprived.
“It doesn’t have to be like this,” you tell him softly. “We can help each other. I can…I can repay you.”
When he’s finished patching you up, you stand awkwardly on your feet, hands still tied behind your back. Joel stares up at you with a heat in his eyes you’ve never seen before.
“Just because you’re used to flashin’ those eyes at Tommy doesn’t mean it’ll work on me. I know what you’ve been up to with him, workin’ him up, usin’ him. I’m not that easy.”
You step forward, stumbling a bit before Joel reaches up to steady you by holding your thighs. His palms are so big and wide, stretching easily over the expansion of your legs.
“I’m not using anyone, Joel. I’m only trying to help you out. I know how much it terrifies you, to get close to someone. To lose them.”
Joel’s palms tighten around your thighs, his dark eyes glaring up at you. “You don’t know me, little girl.”
Your heart thumped in your ribcage so loudly that you were scared Joel might hear it. Joel’s chin is almost tucked in between the middle of your thighs, his rough beard brushing against your denim jeans.
“Then show me, Joel. Show me who you really are.”
“This how you survive for so long? Sleeping with all the men you run across?” Joel questioned, one of his palms running along the inside of your thigh. His touch shouldn’t make you feel like this; ignited, aching unbearably.
“Nope,” you exhaled, “just you and your little brother.”
Joel growls, fingers twitching as they traverse higher, one hand gripping tight to the back of your thigh, keeping you balanced, the other dancing dangerously close to the seam of your jeans. “Fuckin’ brat. I bet you gave your daddy hell, didn’t you?”
His palm moves higher, slightly grazing against the outline of your pussy in your jeans. He sits a little straighter, chin pressed to your navel. When he looks up at you like that, it forces you to acknowledge just how handsome he is. Rugged and strong in a way that enhances his loveliness, shrouded in a magnetism you can’t help but fall victim to.
Joel’s hand on the back of your thigh moves slowly over your waist, around your side to the button of your jeans. You watch with rapt attention as he skillfully undoes it, wasting not a second before he’s parting the metallic teeth of your zipper. “S’a shame Tommy ain’t here to save you now, little girl.”
You watch him, but Joel watches you. His attention warms your cheeks, sets your skin ablaze. He hooks his thumbs into your waistband and tugs both your jeans and panties down in one sure movement.
The force of it has you stumbling forward, falling onto his lap. Not so much as an ounce of shame flashes in his eyes as you situate yourself comfortably, becoming acutely aware of the bulge in his jeans. He knows you can feel it. Knows, too, why that little whine forms in the back of your throat.
He looks so proud of himself, like this has all been a game and suddenly the tides have changed and you’re the one on the losing team.
If only he knew the truth.
“Let me repay you,” you breathe out, grinding yourself against him. The rough denim feels harsh against your too-sensitive skin, yet somehow like relief. “For feeding me.” You shift your hips against him with more pressure this time and his lips part. “For putting clothes on my back.” Again. “For protecting me.”
Joel leans up so quickly it startles you. The look on his face is so devoid of emotion, you’re not sure if he wants to fuck you or kill you. He says, “Should be thanking my brother.”
You can’t help the sinful smirk that tugs at your lips. His words say one thing, but his hands find the swell of your ass and squeeze, pulling your forward, pushing you back, encouraging that sweet friction. Joel’s mouth is an inch from yours, so close you’re sharing the same breath as you tell him, “I owe you both.”
There’s a moment of hesitance. A second where he just stares at you, thoughts you wish he’d speak aloud running through his mind. But then he makes his decision, and he presses his mouth urgently to yours.
Every movement is rushed, hurried as if he worries he may change his mind at any moment. Joel’s lips move against yours, tongue slipping between them, tasting you, drinking you in like a man starved for it.
Despite how desolate he moves against you, he’s strangely affectionate. A perfect balance of coarse and soft, of harsh and tender. Your hips move on their own accord now, the apex of your thighs so wet and slippery you stain the denim beneath you.
He slides his fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck, crushing your mouth impossibly closer to his.
“Joel,” you pant, unable to catch your breath. He bucks his hips up against you and it makes you whimper. Again, a little stronger this time. “Joel.”
He stops kissing your swollen lips and starts biting gently at your collarbone instead. He doesn’t say it, but you know this is his way of giving you a chance to speak, to tell him what you need to say.
“My…my hands,” you say. “Please. Please, I won’t do anything. I just want to touch you. I want—oh, God.”
Joel smiles against your skin as he slips his free hand between your legs. You’re sure it pleases him to feel the mess he’s made of you, but you can’t think much of anything past the way the rough pads of his fingers feel as they circle your clit.
He sets a slow but consistent pace, desire steadily racking up higher and higher and higher. You can’t speak, can't breathe, can’t do anything but moan as he creates a bliss like you’ve never known.
This man’s a lot older than you, much more experienced, and it shows. The way he touches you is incomparable to the boys you’d been with back in the QZ, boys who liked you a whole lot more than the man beneath you but somehow knew so much less about how to touch you.
“If I knew playing with this sweet little pussy was the key to getting you to shut up, I’d have done it ages ago,” he says. But there’s no irritation in his voice. Instead, it’s filled with something that sounds a lot like admiration.
You breathe out his name, right on the precipice of an orgasm, when he pulls his hand away. It’s been so long, and you’d been so close, that pressure builds behind your eyes. Your shoulders drop, your head falls forward. “Please,” you say. “Please, Joel—I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I swear, just—!”
“Shh,” he coos, unbuttoning his jeans. “S’enough of that cryin,’ now.” He pulls down his zipper and shoves the denim down just enough to pull himself out. It surprises you, in truth, to see just how big he is.
Yet still, you find yourself lifting on your knees, making it easier for him to slip inside. You ease down onto him and the stretch is somehow both painful and delicious, the low groans Joel makes like music to your ears.
He reaches behind you and pulls at the flannel scrap that binds your hands together, freeing you from restraint. The blood flows back to your fingers, making them tingle. You place both hands on his shoulders and begin to move slowly, experimentally, easily finding a rhythm and an angle that has you hurtling toward euphoria once more.
He’s so big and warm beneath you, cock filling you so full, and you can’t hear anything but the sound of his voice as he begins to murmur such filthy things.
“Told Tommy to leave you alone,” he says. “Told him not to touch you…I can see why he’s been ignorin’ me now. He’s been blinded by all those pretty smiles you give him, all those nice little kisses. But it’s this he wants, ain’t it?”
Joel squeezes your hips tight in his hands, holding you still while he thrusts up into you. This feels impossibly better, his cock nudging the sweetest spot, and your heart hammers in your chest in response. “God, Joel, I—!”
“Wants this tight little pussy,” he continues. “Should be him fuckin’ you good like this, by all rights. But Tommy’s not home, an’ girls like you just need’ta be filled up, huh?” His pace quickens, the sound of skin against skin echoing in the empty cabin. You can feel him throb inside you, holding himself back. “Might be my brother you want, but it’s my cock you’re soakin,’ ain’t it?”
You think if your brain wasn’t scrambled, reduced to mush at the sultry cadence of Joel’s voice, that maybe you would’ve heard the creak of the door being open.
But you don’t, and neither does Joel. Not until Tommy’s voice cuts through the lusty fog. “What the fuck, Joel?! What happened to not fucking her?!”
You reached down to cover yourself, but Joel smacked your palms away, continuing the movement of his hips. “Christ, Tommy. We’re almost finished,” Joel growled, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you in place. His grip tightened the closer he got, exposing his neck to you after throwing his head back.
Tommy’s eyes were burning a hole into the side of your face, and you couldn’t help but look over at him. His brows were knitted together, a deep crease between them. His lips twitched as if he wanted to yell an objection, but he swallowed down the words.
You bat your eyes at Tommy, reaching down to trap your clit in between your nimble fingers. Every time Joel pushed up into you, his cock stretched you in the most perfect way.
Tommy couldn’t pull himself away, actively watching his brother fuck some girl that they’d both been holding hostage. Just the circumstances should’ve had your stomach churning, but instead, you felt another wave of wetness rush against Joel’s cock.
“Oh, God,” you whimpered, watching the way Tommy’s mouth was parted, frozen mid-breath. The muscles in his jaw tightened when he finally watched you orgasm, speared on Joel’s dick. A deep tremble in your thighs had you shaking in Joel’s grip, your entire body jerking at the feeling of Joel continuing to use you for his benefit.
Joel pulls your focus back into him by lightly slapping the side of your face and turning your head to look at his. The strained expression on his face, the veins bulging from his neck, the way his teeth were clenched in frustration showed you just how close he was.
“Bet you’d like it if I filled you up, huh?” Joel asked, not paying any attention to his brother, who was still stupidly watching. “You wouldn’t even be able to stop me. You’d just let me treat you like the little slut you are.”
You nodded your head desperately, trying to push him further and further until he was finally falling. Joel’s lips were parted slightly, stuck momentarily before quickly pulling out of you. Long ropes of his semen splattered across the skin of your thighs, warm and sticky against you.
The muscles in Joel’s face, which were usually tense and solid, suddenly melted into soft, languid lines. It was nice, looking at him for a moment, imagining what he would’ve been like before. Was he a nice man, who worked a usual 9 to 5, minimum wage job to keep the lights on? Or had he always had a darkness inside of him, one that existed before the world ended?
Just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.
“Care to give me a goddamn explanation now, or do I have to wait another ten minutes?” Tommy said. Even though he looked incredibly intrigued not even a handful of minutes ago, he was back to the angry demeanor he had upon walking in.
Joel’s eyes watched yours momentarily, his cum drying on your thighs as you watched him back. You thought that you saw a sliver of something on his face; remorse? Tenderness? But it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared.
Joel stood, his frame towering over yours. He tucked himself back into his jeans as if nothing had changed and explained, “Your little girlfriend made her grand escape while you were gone. Well—tried to, anyway. You should keep a better handle on her, teach her some discipline. ‘Cause next time I have to waste a bullet on her, it won’t be a graze.”
Tommy sputtered, glancing between Joel and you. You were desperately trying to cover yourself now, left grabbing for clothes while both Joel and Tommy stood over you.
“You tried to fuckin’ escape?” Tommy asked, but there was no malice behind his words. Instead, he seemed genuinely disappointed, and for a second, you actually felt bad for letting him down.
You looked over to Joel for help, for something, but his eyes were back to staring through you like you were a ghost. Like he hadn’t just fucked you senseless.
“Come on, go get cleaned up. I’ll deal with you later,” Tommy said, a hand on his hip as he shook his head at you. Why was it that you felt embarrassed for what you had done, your failed attempt at escaping the two men? You were embarrassed for trying to finally be free, yet you didn’t even regret letting Joel push himself inside of you.
“I’m sorry,” you began, standing and covering yourself with your hands. “You both have to understand my position. I know that you’re not bad people, I know that you don’t trust me, but keeping me here isn’t right.”
“I told you that she was just playin’ with your emotions. She doesn’t care about you, she just wants you to let your guard down,” Joel scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest.
You stepped closer to Tommy, needing to get your point across. “I do care about you, Tommy. I know that you’re a good person, just trying to survive. I’ve had to do the same.”
Joel moved towards you, trying to square you off from his brother. “You don’t know us, little girl. Just because you let us get between your legs doesn’t mean that you know either of us.”
Stiffening up, you squared your shoulders and stood as tall as you could. You locked your gaze on Joel’s, not allowing him to have the upper hand in this conversation.
“I’m not Sarah, Joel. You can’t control me, as much as you wish you could.”
The expression on Joel’s face was deadly, and if looks could kill, you would be lying in a pool of blood at his feet. He closes the short distance between you, his teeth clenched and fist balled tight.
“If you ever say her name again, it’ll be the last thing you say,” he hissed, his fist wavering by his side. “Do you understand?”
As much as you wanted to spout something back at him, you knew better. If you kept pushing him and pushing him, he would eventually bite you right back.
“Fine,” you spat, turning your head away from Joel. It made no sense, he had just given you the best orgasm of your life, but now you wanted to fucking kill him. You understood what it was like to lose someone, to have scars so deep that they never fully healed. It could turn you into a monster. Joel, unfortunately, had succumbed to the latter.
“Deal with your fuckin’ girlfriend. I need some air,” Joel said, grabbing his rifle before walking out of the cabin. The air in the cabin was still tense with the heat of Tommy’s eyes burning through you.
“I fucked up, Tommy, I know. I’m so sorry,” you begged. His mouth was a hard, narrow line, clearly trying to keep his fury at bay.
“The one thing I asked, the one thing, and you couldn’t do it.”
He scoffed, glancing down at your still half-naked body. “And then you tried to run away, brought up Sarah, and slept with him? Christ, what a fuckin’ mess.”
Tommy couldn’t even bring himself to look at you, and it made the pit in your stomach sink a few more inches down.
“I’m sorry Tommy. I care about both of you,” you tried to explain, but Tommy just shook his head.
“Go wash up. Should have some water in the tub,” Tommy said, dismissing you. You paused, hesitating to leave the conversation. You hadn’t gotten any resolution - it wasn’t fair. Joel and Tommy couldn’t just expect you not to retaliate.
Talking to Tommy wasn’t going to resolve anything. You’d have to gain their trust back again, slowly, and you would be lucky if you even got it back through just time. No, you would have to prove it to them.
Time passed since then. It was getting towards the end of winter, the snow less harsh and cold a little more bearable. With the way things were going, winter would be finished in just a few weeks. With winter being over, you could survive on your own again, you could take the risk to escape.
You just needed one distraction. Anything.
You did everything you could to regain Joel and Tommy’s trust. Preparing dinner, tagging along for any wood gathering; you had even cleaned the house when Joel complained about the dust lining the kitchen cabinets.
When Joel had returned home from patrolling the perimeter, the look of surprise to see a spotless cabin made you bite back your smile. Even though he didn’t say thank you, he gave you a bit more of his food in a silent reward.
He had even gone out of his way to search the basement for tampons for you after he heard you complaining to Tommy about it. Joel acted like he hated you, but something made him sleep with you. Something was there.
Though Tommy still didn’t let himself grow incredibly close to you, things did get somewhat better. He allowed you to spend time taking watch with him some nights, spending the night talking about whatever came to your mind first. Whether it be “What would be your dream job” or “if you could time travel, would you go to the past or the future” - the conversation always felt easy with Tommy.
It felt like he was trying so hard to not trust you, but the moment he sat down with you, he talked to you like an old friend. Maybe it was because he had been tied to Joel for so long, years of the same conversations over and over again. You were new to him, a new presence to absorb. You understood why it was so easy for Tommy to fall into old habits.
You were sitting up with Tommy when it happened. Joel was asleep in the bed, and you didn’t have it in you to lay with him. Sometimes you shared the bed with Tommy, and Joel would take the couch, but you had never laid with Joel. After what had happened, the intimacy you shared with him - sharing a full-sized mattress would feel like a prison sentence.
So, you stayed up on watch with Tommy while Joel slept. He had passed you the bottle of Jack one too many times, and you were buzzing a little bit in your seat.
“I hope the snow lets up before I gotta go out and do my rounds. I’m gonna end up freezin’ my dick off,” Tommy groaned, stretched out on the couch. The light from the lantern lit up the small space, casting shadows over Tommy’s face.
He was a handsome man, you had to admit that. Just like his brother, who was softly snoring a couple of meters away.
“You better make it quick. I’m not going out there to find your dick if it falls off,” you said back, making Tommy snort in amusement.
“Yeah, I bet you’d like that. Probably wouldn’t even give it back to me,” he said. His legs were stretched out, his knee pressing into the meat of your thigh. Tommy’s warmth comforted you, as much as it probably shouldn’t have.
“You’re sick,” you said back, trying to get a laugh out of Tommy, but he was suddenly shockingly serious. His eyes widened as he straightened up in his seat, hand reaching down to the revolver at his side.
You followed his eyes, turning your head until you finally saw it. Three people standing in the tight hallway, directly in front of Joel’s room. They must’ve snuck in from the cellar since you didn’t hear the sound of the window breaking.
Tommy’s hand lifts quickly, aiming the gun at the group. His free palm pulls at your arm, standing up to tug you behind him. He uses his back to shield you from the group. He’s protecting you.
“Y’all don’t have any business bein’ in here. I’d suggest you go back out the way you came from,” Tommy spoke, loudly, as if to wake Joel. They were blocking the door so neither of you could see if he was still asleep in the bed.
The group was made up of two men and a woman. They almost mirrored you, a short woman with two hulking men surrounding her. The way that they were dressed revealed that they were raiders, with one of the men wearing a necklace of teeth. A hum started buzzing through your brain at the situation - this was bad.
“Seems like it’s quite cozy in here. You wouldn’t believe how bad it’s snowing outside. You should let us stay,” the woman spoke, grinning up at Tommy. Her smile was sinister, laced with wickedness.
Tommy stiffened up, cocking his revolver before raising the gun directly at the woman. “I won’t ask again.”
Before anyone could even react, a gunshot rang out. The man with the teeth necklace had a bullet rush through his brain, gasping before dropping down to his knees.
“Johnny!” the woman shrieked, her other male partner swinging around to see where the shot came from. They finally parted from the front of the bedroom door, revealing Joel aiming his own rifle at the group.
The lantern that was sitting in the living room barely cast enough light to even see Joel, but you were able to see enough. He looked deadly, like death himself. You hadn’t seen him like this before; even with you, he had never come off that furious.
The man who was still standing lunged at Joel while he was attempting to reload, both men fighting over the gun.
Tommy spun to you, cradling the side of your face. “Stay back. We got it, okay?”
He turned back, approaching the woman who just unsheathed a machete. As soon as she lunged at Tommy, you heard the flash of a gunshot light up the room. The bullet swished past your face, a hair length away from touching your skin. You could feel the heat of the bullet.
“Fuckin’ bastard,” you heard Joel shout, jumping onto the man to rip his rifle out of his hands. Tommy had wrestled the machete out of the woman’s hands, but his own gun was a couple of meters away, tucked under the table in the corner of the room.
A loud clatter from the bedroom showed Joel and the man wrestling around on the ground, the rifle long forgotten about. The brothers were fighting for their lives, it was no longer up for debate.
You have to do something. You glanced over at the front door, unblocked and easy to access. You could leave. You could run out into the snow and run for your life, and let these two groups fight to the death.
It would be easy. Your jacket was right at the door, you could grab it on the way out. It could work.
But then you looked over at Joel, who was straddling the intruder. His biceps were bulging from how hard he was choking him, muscles flexing in the excitement of the kill.
Moving your frantic eyes back over to Tommy, you saw the woman lay a rough punch to the side of Tommy’s jaw. His head snapped to the side with a sickening crack that made her cackle in pleasure. Tommy was momentarily disoriented, which the woman took advantage of.
She turned to lunge at the machete while also ripping her own gun out and aiming it at Joel in an attempt to save her friend. You found yourself jumping on top of her before you could even throw one last look at the front door. She hadn’t even reached the machete yet, thank god, but you still had to rip the gun out of her hands so she wouldn’t be able to shoot Joel.
“Little bitch,” the woman hissed when you slipped your hands around her neck. She clawed at your palms, your wrists, leaving jagged nail marks embedded into your skin.
Your ears were ringing, your face hot and pulsing. It had been so long since you had killed anyone, it felt simply barbaric. To watch the life slowly drain from her eyes, empty and gray.
“P-please,” she gasped, punching her fists softly against your chest. Your head was pulled back high, glaring down at her without an ounce of remorse on your face. She had tried to rob you, to hurt Tommy, to hurt Joel. She deserves this.
After a couple more tight grips of your palms, she stopped struggling beneath you. Heavy, breathy gasps left your throat while a low gurgling sound left hers. The sound of death was never a comforting one, but you found yourself unable to release her throat. Long after she had taken her last breath, you still found yourself strangling her, your knuckles white from the pressure.
“Hey… kiddo,” graveled Joel from behind you. He pressed his palm against your shoulder, his hand heavy and distracting. You stop, glancing up around the room. All three of the intruders were now lifeless, lying haphazardly around the cabin. Thank god that there wasn’t too much blood.
“It’s over,” Joel whispered, rubbing his palm in circles against your shoulder. “Let her go.”
You didn’t even feel yourself release your iron grip - instead, you watched, like you were in an out-of-body experience.
Tommy’s hand is warm on the small of your back. He gently pulls you away from the woman, her body still warm under your palms. He holds you into his grip, trying to make you meet his eyes as he speaks. “Hey,” he says, voice filled with tenderness. “It’s okay. It was her or us, alright?”
He’s speaking to you as if you’re fragile, as if you’ll break. But your hands don’t shake, and even though her eyes are open and watching you lifelessly, you don’t feel any regret. Tommy’s warmth seeps beneath your skin as he attempts to comfort you, but it’s Joel who you look to for answers. “I did what I had to,” you say. “Right?”
Joel nods, eyes full of certainty. “You did what you had to.”
Tommy and Joel took care of the bodies, even leaving you alone while they did it. Killing her had gained their trust. She was the key.
But still, you didn’t leave while they were gone. You couldn’t bring yourself to. So, when they returned, they comforted you and allowed you the have the entire bed to yourself.
“Won’t be able to sleep now anyways,” Joel muttered.
You move through the next day in a thick fog. You’ve seen death your whole life, and have done your fair share of bloody deeds. But for some reason, this feels different. Weighted. Like maybe fleeing when the opportunity presented itself instead of killing them will have lasting effects.
When Tommy suggests that you get some rest early in the evening, you agree with him. He sees you safely to the bed, pulls the blankets over you, and urges you to sleep.
But you don’t, of course. And when the door creaks open again, Joel’s heavy footsteps enter the room. The mattress bows beneath his weight as he sits beside you. “What you…” He stops. Reaches up to squeeze the scruff along his jaw. “What you did today…I know it’s not easy. But…I want you to know, too that it’s…that I appreciate it. You saved Tommy. Saved me. So…you know. Thank you.”
Though you’re unsure what exactly possessed you to do it, you find Joel’s hand in the dark and slide your fingers through his. His grip is strong and his palm calloused, but there’s a gentleness in the way he cradles your small hand in his that surprises you. The urge rises in you to ask him again, to hear those reassuring words that the decision you made in killing someone with your bare hands was the correct one.
But you already know the answer he’ll give, because your brutality means he gets to see another day. What you don’t know, however, is why he leans over and softly presses a kiss to your forehead. You don’t know why it ignites a fire in your chest, either. Something akin to desire but not quite.
“Dinner’s ready,” he says. “Tommy fixed you a plate.”
And for the first time, it’s a dinner without the weight of Joel’s glare from across the table. His stare is now filled with something different, something that feels a whole lot like adoration. Like he was truly grateful for what you did.
You help Tommy with the dishes, and when you tell him you’re ready for bed he wraps an arm around your shoulders and promises to fend off nightmares, promises you only good dreams.
But you realize as he wraps himself around you, smothering you in the masculine, pine scent of him, that it’s not just good dreams you want.
You want him.
Tommy leads you back to the bedroom, and on the way you pass the bloodstain on the floorboards. A stark reminder of what had happened, of what you’d done for them.
For both of them.
You can feel Tommy’s gaze on the side of your face as the two of you linger in the doorway of the bedroom. Joel sits on the couch, whittling knife in hand, permanent crease between his brows. He’s so handsome, so dark and brooding and mysterious in a way that keeps you on your toes, a way that draws you in like a moth to a flame.
It isn’t just Tommy you want. When you look back at him, you think the yearning must be written on your face.
Because he doesn’t even ask the question, doesn’t even seem surprised by it. Tommy just nods once and says, “Go on, then. Ask him.”
You swallow, taking a deep breath to prepare yourself for what is about to happen. For what you wanted to happen.
“Joel?”
He raises his head to look up at you. There’s a moment of hesitation as he stares down your outstretched hand that reaches for him, but then he’s setting his knife down on the table and wrapping his calloused palm around your fingers instead.
Tommy crawls into the bed and lifts the blanket for you, a beacon of warmth, of familiarity, of kindness. You melt against him, and it feels good, but when Joel toes off his boots and you can feel him at your back it’s different. Better than good. It’s…perfect. Satisfying. Wedged between them, a soft center to all their strength, you wonder how this sick desire that rumbles low in your belly has managed to go undetected for so long.
You turn between them, facing Joel instead. Tommy’s hands find your waist, dipping beneath your shirt, the tips of his fingers brushing against the bare skin just above the hem of your jeans. Joel’s eyes are heated and intense, drinking you in, swallowing you whole.
He brushes a stray piece of your hair behind your ear at the same time that Tommy’s hand dips beneath your waistband.
Silently, you wonder if they can hear the way your heart beats behind your ribcage. A loud, incessant hum that reverberates in your ears.
Tommy’s hand sinks lower, wriggling in the small space between your skin and the denim. He slides his fingers gently over your clit, and when your lips part in a gasp Joel traces over your mouth with his thumb. You can feel Tommy at your back, cock hardening as he presses it against your ass. He kisses your shoulder over the fabric of your shirt and says, “Wet already, filthy little girl.”
There’s no sense in denying it. No sense in fighting it off, not when your desire has overcome all sense, drowned out by nothing other than the aching need for them. For both of them.
Joel slips the pad of his thumb into your mouth, rubbing it against the tip of your tongue. “Suck it. Put that mouth to good use.” You nod, obeying his command before hollowing out your cheeks to suck on his thumb. You whimper around it at the feeling of Tommy’s middle finger rubbing tight circles into your clit. His pointer finger spreads your folds, working at the wetness pooling in your panties.
“You always get this wet?” Tommy asked, finally pushing his finger into your throbbing heat. You gasp, looking up at Joel through a hazy gaze, watching the dark expression on his face. “Or is it just because of us?”
You nod your head, rocking your hips against Tommy’s palm. “Fuck, yes,” you moan into Joel’s thumb, not even properly answering the question but neither of them seem to mind. Tommy’s finger still works through your pussy, curling around in your tight, wet heat.
“Playin’ with her pussy shuts her up quick. We should've done it together weeks ago,” Joel teases before reaching down to unbuckle his pants. The sound of the metal belt clanging and his zipper being pulled down makes you shudder into Tommy’s body.
Should you feel guilty for how much you enjoy this? Feeling worshipped? Feeling wanted. For so long you had drifted, never truly having a place. After the death of your father, it was solidified, that you weren’t important to anyone. Nobody had come to your defense, nobody had tried to protect you.
But Joel did, and so did Tommy. And even though the situation was a little fucked up, you couldn’t help the way your hips stuttered when Joel pressed his cock against your lips. Without hesitating, you wrapped your tight mouth around his girthy length, humming pleasure at the feeling of his dick stretching out your throat.
“You belong to us, don’t you?” Tommy asked, playing with your clit as he continued to finger you. The combined sound of Tommy’s fingers slamming into your cunt and your mouth sucking Joel off had your head spinning. It was overstimulation of the best kind, Tommy’s cock hard and chasing relief by rutting into your ass.
You nodded, watering eyes still glued to Joel’s face. The look of pure pleasure on his face was enough to tip you closer to the edge, a ragged whimper moaned into Joel’s cock. His neck was flushed, knuckles white, and clenched into a fist. It was empowering, having this big, brooding man at your mercy.
They’re both so stubborn and strong but for you, they break. It’s this thought, combined with the fullness in your mouth and the feel of Tommy’s fingers working between your thighs that sends you reeling, an orgasm wrenching through you mercilessly.
Within seconds, before you even get a chance to come down from the height of it, Tommy’s dragging your jeans down your legs and unbuttoning his own. “S’only fair I get you first, sweetheart,” he says. He wraps his hand around your knee and drapes your thigh over his hip, positioning himself behind you.
And you want him, you do, but every nerve ending flares on edge. Every inch of your skin feels too sensitive, too tender. You pull your head back, making just enough room in your mouth to mutter around Joel’s cock, “Tommy, slow down, wait-”
“Nah, baby,” he says. “Wanna show you what you’ve been missin’. Waited too fuckin’ long to spread these legs of yours to wait anymore.” And then he’s pushing into you, the sticky remnants of your orgasm smoothing out any resistance he encounters.
Joel takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, a strangely gentle touch, and says softly, “Mouth open, little girl.”
You look only at Joel as Tommy grips your hip and begins to rock slowly into you, breath hitching in your throat as the head of his cock nudges against the deepest parts of you. You part your lips, and Joel slides himself back into your mouth, down your throat.
Tommy’s heat behind you blankets you in a sweet warmth, and despite his eagerness, you’re delighted to hear the groans that leave his mouth. You like that this is making him happy, you like that you’re making him feel good. “So tight,” he murmurs against your shoulder. “Always knew this pussy would be good. From the moment I saw you, baby, I knew it. Can feel her squeezin’ me, wanna feel how wet she gets when I make her cum a second time.”
The thought of it makes you whimper around Joel’s cock. He laughs, thumb stroking lightly over your cheekbone. “Think she’d like that, Tommy,” he says.
It’s so strange to see him like this. Scowling, uptight Joel-soft and delicate as he cherishes you, as he worships you as if you’re something holy. As if killing for him has altered his brain chemistry, flipped a switch, and made him see you in a brand new light.
Joel reaches between your legs and presses the tip of his middle finger against your clit. It aches beneath his touch, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. “Wouldn’t you? Hm?”
You can’t speak, but you moan around his cock and hollow out your cheeks, sucking him harder. A flush creeps up Joel’s neck and he lets out a low groan in response.
Tommy thrusts his cock into you at a steady pace, pawing at your hip. You clench your walls around him and his rhythm falters. “Oh, she likes that, Joel,” he says. “S’that feel good, baby?”
It’s all too much-the filthy words, the pressure on your clit, the fullness in your belly, the ache that settles in your jaw. And then there’s the way Joel looks at you, and before you realize it you’re shuddering, your second orgasm ripping apart what remains of your defenses.
You may have stolen from them but the two brothers have stolen from you, too. Stolen connection and fondness and sentiment—things you’d sworn off long ago.
But as Joel strokes your clit sloppily, attention faltering as he chases his release with you, how can you keep yourself from feeling something for him? How can you see this big, brooding man become delicate for you only, and keep yourself from the edge of devotion?
“Yeah, there you go,” Tommy whispers. “Cum for us. Soakin’ my fuckin’ cock, little girl. That’s it. That’s it, baby.”
Joel’s release is salty as it hits the back of your tongue, but you swallow it down, taking him into your mouth as far as you can.
“Goddamn,” he hisses, and it’s like music to your ears. A crude praise. His hands tremble as he slowly descends, that permanent crease between his brows finally smoothing over.
Tommy’s hips stutter. You reach your hand back and thread your fingers through his hair, gently scratching at his scalp. His grunts fill the room and you can feel his cock as it twitches inside you. “Fuck,” he breathes. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby.”
You don’t register the fact that he already is until it’s too late, until the stickiness spills out of you, coating the inside of your thighs. There’s so much, and you’d be angry about it if it didn’t make your skin ignite with desire, another fresh wave of arousal.
Because as stupid as it is, as irresponsible as it is for him to cum inside you, you like that for once, he didn’t ask—he just takes. As if you belong to him, as if you always have.
He sighs contentedly, and slowly pulls himself out of you. “Best fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever had, sweetheart,” he says, falling back against the pillows.
Joel tucks himself back into his jeans and crawls onto the mattress beside you, stroking your hair as you lay your head on his chest. You can hear the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, a soothing beat.
“Which was the best dick, little girl?” There’s a little bit of amusement in Tommy’s tone as he asks it. “Which brother was better?”
Joel leans up just enough to scowl at Tommy. “That’s enough,” he says firmly, leaving no room for argument. “Let it go.”
Tommy laughs, and you fight off the smile that threatens to form on your face as the three of you settle back into the sheets. “Alright, fine,” he says. “Joel, you take watch. I’m exhausted.”
Within moments, Tommy’s soft snores fill the room. You lay there in silence, your head on Joel’s chest, for so long you think he may have fallen asleep, too. But after some time, his chest rises as he inhales a deep breath.
He says, “I always plan for the worst. Don’t like surprises. But…I’ll admit, I didn’t plan for you. Kinda blindsided me.”
Joel’s words blindside you. This had always been the plan, to gain their trust just enough to escape, to be successful your second time around. But you’re not sure why it hurts, or why his dance around an admission makes your chest pull tight. But maybe you’re taking it out of context, maybe you're assuming too much. “What do you mean?”
For a moment he just stares at you, eyes roaming over every minute detail of your face, pupils blown wide. Finally, he says, “Nothin.’ I’ll explain another time.” And before you can change his mind, he’s shifting out from under you and lacing up his boots. “I’ll go and do the rounds. Get some rest, alright?”
Joel glances down at you, his eyes still full of contemplation and something else that you couldn’t quite read. He leaned down quickly, pressing a heavy kiss against your lips, taking your breath away. The rough hair of his beard scratched your face in the most delicious way, but the kiss also felt heavy. Like Joel had something on his mind but could only bring himself to express it by tasting your tongue.
His forehead pressed against your own momentarily before he raised back up. Joel’s large palm held your face gently, his touch completely different from the Joel you’d known so far. The man who had shot you, who had fucked you into submission. You knew that there was something in him that was soft and malleable. You had finally found it.
“Sleep,” Joel said, pulling his fingers away from your face. The tips of his fingers left goosebumps in their trace, and you felt the weight of the situation set in. This was it. The moment Joel left to do his regular route, you could go the opposite way. Joel’s route was one that you had memorized because you went on the same one with Tommy. It would be easy to avoid him. It would be easy to leave.
Joel left the room quietly, cracking the door closed behind him. It only took him a couple of minutes to shrug on his jacket, grab his rifle, and head out of the front door. If you timed it right, in ten minutes he should reach the east corner of the cabin’s perimeter, which would give you enough time to leave before he is even near the cabin.
Sitting up slowly, you glanced over at Tommy, who was still softly snoring. You slide off of the bed, rifling through the side drawer to grab Tommy’s pocket knife. Quietly, you go through one of the unused canvas bags, pilling up the same supplies you had stolen so long ago. Food, ammo, batteries - anything that could help you survive on your own.
You stood at the doorway of the bedroom, watching the lantern light wash across Tommy’s face. After being with him for so long, it hurt to walk away. Even though it was a sticky situation, quite literally, you still found yourself caring for the brothers.
‘Goodbye, Tommy,’ you thought to yourself before leaving the bedroom. Striding across the living room, you could feel your heart thump in your throat at the sweet taste of freedom. You grabbed Joel’s spare jacket, tugging it over your shoulders.
This is it. You don’t have to stay here.
You remembered the feeling of Joel’s lips on your lips, the way Tommy rutted against your hips. The feeling of being wanted. The feeling of being protected.
You were scared to leave. But you had to.
The snow crunched under your feet when you walked out of the cabin’s front door. It was late in the night, the air crisp and heavy in your lungs. You saw your feet running before you actually processed that you were sprinting through the woods. The more you ran, the deeper the snow got, the icy slush melting into the bottom of your jeans.
You didn’t run into Joel, or Tommy, or anyone else for that matter. You couldn’t remember how long you ran for, or how far you had gotten, but your legs continued to stomp into the wet ground beneath your feet. The heat from the morning sun warming up your face was enough to let you know that you were finally free.
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