#the OPEN ARMS REPRISE????

[escelia]

Finally got around to listening to the wisdom saga since I missed the stream (heard that was a grand time 🤣) and so I put it on while I was cleaning. It's a bit of a routine I do when I plan to listen to the whole album. And basically I just cried while sweeping my floor. :D

The whole time :D

Jorge you absolute sadist :D

(⚠️Spoilers in tags⚠️)

[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

man odysseus was already having auditory hallucinations of penelope in thunder bringer so polites ABSOLUTELY should've gotten ANOTHER open arms reprise bc we will scream and faint and die in pain every single time

[nikoisme]

My bet is that we'll hear Polites in The Underworld after the line "I keep thinking of the infant from that night", because in the cut song Ismarus, Polites approaches Odysseus right after that line

[aikoiya]

*clutches heart* Uuuuggghh!!!

I don't care who sees this, please reblog until Jorge sees it, because it would be such an amazing addition!!

[nightlilly0110]

Do you think Eurylocus told Odysseus about the wind bag in the Thunder Saga because they just came from The Underworld and he saw all the fucking soldiers he accidentally got killed blame Ody for their deaths

[bookwyrminspiration]

“Stay in my open arms”??? Followed immediately by an open arms reprise???

I think frequently about how Odysseus keeps saying "all I hear are screams" the same way he did in Underworld, haunted.

but in Underworld there actually were screams in the background. in Love in Paradise, all we hear are Polites and Eurylochus' speaking. so is Odysseus hearing screams we can't, or is the thought of their voices, of them, so painful to him they're screams?

many such thoughts

[psychicbluebirdmiracle]

Hehe yeahhh so that was something I was trying so hard not to say outloud for the longest time fjjdjfjfjf

not caring too much about a fandom’s favourite guy is the worst. you’ll think “oh i’ll look into the tag see if anything new and cool’s there” and it’s just that fucking guy again

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

plum

reprised edition

a/n: this guy has been on my mind lately, so i decided to do a thing i've been thinking about since i wrote this story: stitch this whole series into one huge oneshot, edit it, fine-tune it and finally round it off from where i just dropped it one and a half years ago.

summary: “fuck…” all the air escaped Tommy’s lungs, “I thought she was dead…” his glistening eyes didn’t rip away from your frame for even a second as he revealed, “yeah… yeah, I know her. She’s like family.”

warnings: joel miller x former firefly!reader, reprised version of my series plum, smut, dark content (traumatic past including: forced pregnancy, rape, drugging, essentially being held as a slave, death/murder, solitary confinement, suicidal thoughts), rape recovery, jackson era, age gap (20 years), fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, violence, blood and gore, torture, ptsd, panic attacks, nightmares, crying, alcohol consumption, slow burn, bff!tommy, love confessions, kissing, dirty talk, masturbation, dry humping, pussyjob, light choking, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, pull out method, angsty ending/cliff hanger

word count: 15.180

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Clenching your fists together tight enough that the bones creaked under the pressure, you sucked in a sharp breath and readied yourself for the heavy footsteps making their way around the corner to where you hid. As soon as you saw a bright flashlight flicker in your direction, you pounced, opting to immediately jump the figure, rather than act too late and having history repeat itself. Alas, your attempted ambush didn’t pay out as you only managed to get a few good hits in before the man’s might came down upon you.

“Joel?” a different man shouted from the room opposite the one you’d hidden in, obviously picking up on the scuffle. 

Your next punch then promptly fell short as the unexpectedly familiar rough voice sent goosebumps all over your already freezing skin. 

You knew that voice… no doubt in your mind who it was…

“Tommy?” you just managed to call out to the not-yet-visible man, quickly coming to your attacker’s aid, before your weakened stance sent the whole scuffle directly into the rough concrete wall to the right, your already bruised temple colliding with it and knocking you clean out. 

Rushing into the room, gun already lowering, Tommy swiftly extended an arm out to halt Joel as he instinctually followed your form as it dropped like a sack of potatoes, wholly ready to finish the job.

“Wait, stop!” 

Holding back his punch, Joel glanced up at his little brother, observing as his wide eyes raked over your unconscious figure. 

“What, do you know her or something?” he asked, the adrenaline causing the sentence to come out sounding rather vile. 

“Fuck…” all the air escaped Tommy’s lungs, “I thought she was dead…” his glistening eyes didn’t rip away from your frame for even a second as he revealed, “yeah… yeah, I know her. She’s like family.”

Jolting awake, a pair of hands quickly found your shoulders in a calming manner. 

“Wow, wow, it’s okay, plum, you’re alright, you’re safe,” your frantic eyes finally came to rest on Tommy’s figure sitting beside the cot you had been placed in. Answering before you even had the chance to ask or unravel any further, he continued, “you’re in Jackson, we brought you back home.”

Sitting on the small bed with a palm rooted on the mattress for support, you trembled, “I’m home?” and the floodgates immediately burst open, letting the relieved tears flow that you’d come to believe wouldn’t ever see the light of day. 

“You’re home,” the familiar person holding a worn clipboard at the foot of the cot nodded softly. 

“Doctor Duncan?” the friendly face made you squeeze your eyes shut in an effort to bear the overwhelming nature of finally being safe.

“Hi Y/n,” she kneeled down to be more at your height and softly told you, “it’s good to have you back.”

Fighting hard not to let the dizzy feeling in your body win, you sobbed, “I can’t believe I’m actually here.” 

“All this time,” Tommy breathed, “I thought you were dead.”

Looking up into his glossy eyes, you admitted, “I almost was…”

Not being able to resist any longer, he asked, “did the others–, are they–”

“No…” you shook your head lightly and glanced down at the dark fleece blanket draped over your aching body, “they didn’t suffer though, it was quick, painless for them…”

You honestly hadn’t thought about any of the people you’d been travelling with in ages, out of the pure need to survive, but now that you finally did, the vile memories had your empty stomach clenching in need to vomit. 

“What happened?” Tommy asked, though was quickly counteracted by doctor Duncan’s soothing voice.

“You don’t have to answer that right now, sweetheart,” and gave you a pained glance.

Of course, Aria had gathered some pieces to the puzzle from just the minor check-up she had undoubtedly done as soon as you had been brought into the infirmary. She didn’t have to look any further than just your still faintly bruised wrists to get an idea of what horrors you had clawed your way out of to get back here. 

“I–…uhm…” you struggled to keep your breathing steady as you let your vision drift and the painful words fall from your lips, “we were ambushed by a group of hunters. They did what they do, killed everyone without even thinking twice about it… except when they found me,” you unconsciously dug your nails into the root of your palm, hard enough for the skin to break, “I was hiding and I could hear,” you closed your eyes, still recollecting the 2-year-old memory clear as day, “every single one of them get shot. One after the other, Trevor, Alice, Benny, Sam, almost rhythmically with how fast it was. But when they found me, they didn’t pull the trigger. Said that my head was too pretty to put a bullet through it. So instead, they just knocked me out. I woke up back at their base, chained in this cell… they–… they–…” as much as you wanted to tell these people you cared so much about every single horrifying thing you’d had to endure, you just couldn’t. The words physically wouldn’t come out of your mouth. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, tight enough that they hurt, Tommy’s quiet voice pulled you back from the black hole of memories you’d found yourself in. 

“Jesus christ, Y/n…” he uttered, barely breathing at all.

Since your old home here in Jackson had long been occupied by somebody else, Tommy had insisted that you stay at his and Maria’s house, just till you got back on your feet, and they could find you somewhere more permanent to live. 

It took a bit, but eventually, Tommy managed to twist his big brother’s arm and get him to reluctantly give a hand at setting a room up for you. 

Ever since you’d gotten back, Joel had assumed that he had now understandably become a foe in your eyes with the less-than-pleasant way your first meeting had transpired. So, he just tried his best to stay far away from where you were, figured from the little he had heard through the grapevine that you’d been through enough and didn’t need to also deal with his old mug in the foreseeable future. 

But still, after finally setting down the hefty mattress the two brothers had hauled halfway through town, Joel couldn’t help but let some of his curiosity slip out, “why do you call her that anyway?”

“Huh?” Tommy cocked an eyebrow as he passed Joel the bottle of water he had just taken a healthy swig from himself.  

“Plum,” he accepted the much-needed drink, “why do you call her plum?”

“Oh, it’s kind of a funny story actually,” his little brother smiled, leaning back against the paint-chipped windowsill, “back in the beginning, not too long after I had joined the fireflies, she just showed up one day. Couldn’t have been more than–, hell, she couldn’t have been more than Ellie’s age back then. She just waltzed right up and demanded to speak to Marlene. And as a way to get her foot in the door, sweeten the deal a bit, her pockets were filled to the brim with plums. Fucking plums. Like, where did she even get them?” he laughed, finding the memory too entertaining for his own good, “so that’s how we introduced her, told Marlene that a little plum was here to speak to her. I guess the nickname just kinda stuck after that…”

“She was a firefly with you?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “we even quit at the same time and travelled out here to Wyoming together.”

“So, you two really go way back then?” the older man commented, still oozing with mistrust.

“Joel,” Tommy caught his brother’s eye, “she was the best man at mine and Maria’s wedding. Yeah, we go way back,” a protectiveness glistened over him, “she’s like my little sister. She is my little sister.”

The dry twig that suddenly snapped underneath your boot caused the soft strumming, that you’d become so captivated by, to stop at once. Holding your breath, Joel’s eyes found yours. 

“I’m sorry,” you rushed out, all of a sudden feeling as if you’d been invading his privacy, “I–… I’m sorry…”

You hadn’t been able to sleep, so instead of just tossing and turning, you’d gone for a little walk around the slumbering town. It had not been your intention to spy on him, but the gentle music that reverberated from his guitar had drawn you in like a siren song, unintentionally making you step closer and closer to where he sat out on his dimly lit porch. 

“It’s fine, you don’t have anything to apologise for,” he swiftly set the instrument aside and averted his gaze, the action giving you a stomach ache. 

“No,” you moved a bit closer, slowly climbing the short steps, “I think I do…” and when you only received a furrowed brow in response, you continued softly, “I wanna apologise for punching you the other day.”

“Why?” he asked, seeming genuinely confused. 

“Because that’s not the kind of first impression that I wanted Tommy’s famed big brother to have of me,” you nervously bit down on your bottom lip. 

“What, he told you about me?”

“Yeah, honestly wouldn’t shut up about you. Practically idealised you,” you fiddled with your hands behind your back, “hell, I think he still does.”

“Well,” he nodded politely, still not letting his gaze stay upon you for too long at a time, “like I said, you have nothing to be sorry for,” then let out a deep sigh, “I, however, would like to apologise to you… I didn’t know who you were, and if I did, then I wouldn’t have just­–”

“It’s fine,” you cut in, your face briefly crinkling up in unease, “if the roles were reversed, I’d have done the exact same,” trying and failing to catch his eye, you asked, “we square?”

“Yeah,” he offered you a light nod, keeping his vision fixed upon his interlocked hands resting in his lap. 

“Okay,” you exhaled, leaning back against the railing, “good.”

“Gotta give it to you though,” he let out just the essence of a chuckle, “you throw a mean punch.”

Biting down on your blooming smile, you confirmed assuredly, “yeah, I know.”

Shaky breaths flowed in and out past your lips as you pressed your forehead against the majestic animal standing before you in the dark barn.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you sniffled quietly, attempting to ground yourself as you stroked your palm over the horse’s dark coat, “I’m home, I’m safe, I-I’m okay…”

Hearing footsteps suddenly approach the dark stall you were standing in, a rough voice broke the silence of the early morning hours, “hey Viking,” the horse by you puffed gently at the man in acknowledgement, “you ready to go?” then as he rounded the corner and finally caught sight of you, his brisk stride halted completely, “oh, hi.”

“Hi Joel,” you rushed to wipe the runny snort from your nose and the flowing tears from your cheeks, then attempted a forced smile, “you gonna head out on patrol?”

“I, uhm,” his brows furrowed in concern, “yeah.” 

“You’ve been taking a lot of shifts lately,” you noticed, “don’t you usually wait till the sun comes up to leave?” 

“Sometimes,” he purposely kept his replies short, then surprised you by asking softly, “you know Viking?” and reached up to pet the horse’s broad cheek himself. 

“Yeah, we know each other pretty well me and him,” your faked smile grew a little more genuine, “we used to go out on patrol all the time back in the day.”

“Really? Do you–, uh, you want him back?” 

“Nah, I can see he really likes you. You two make a pretty good team… Anyhow,” you glanced down at the hay-covered floor, “I don’t think I’d be that much fun for him to hang out with since I’m not so sure I’m quite ready to go out yet… think it’s at least smart to wait till I start sleeping through the night again,” you tried to jest, though didn’t manage to gain any reaction from Joel.

Lightly chewing on his inner cheek, he stared down at you with such empathy that you feared your tears might pick up again, “is that why you came out here? Trouble sleeping?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out, “I don’t really sleep anymore… and if I do, then I–… I am right back there… wake up screaming or crying… and I can’t talk to Tommy about all of this,” you shut your eyes a moment, “he knows me too well and I just can’t bear to see that look on his face,” locking in on Joel’s dark eyes, you uttered, “like I’m breaking his heart beyond repair.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Joel averted his gaze and then tried, “is there anything I can do? You can have as much time with Viking as you’d like, if that could help.”

Letting out a choked chuckle at his offhand offer, you then bit down on your bottom lip, “could you–… uhm…” you scrunched up your face and wrestled with the internal debate of if you should actually ask him or not, “it’s gonna sound silly, but could you maybe just hold my hand? Just for a little bit?”

Sucking in a breath that he never quite seemed to let out again, he glanced down at your right hand and nodded lightly, “sure,” then held his own out, palm up, for you to grasp. 

For the first second, you noticed yourself stiffen up, then you abruptly felt your body let go in a way that it hadn’t quite done yet. Nearly instantaneously squeezing your eyes shut, you just tried to breathe through it, or frankly, just actually breathe at all. 

He was just holding your hand. How could such a tiny thing do so much? 

Joel didn’t say a word, not even let out a sound. He just stood there, holding your hand as you full-on broke down beside him. 

“I-I’m s-sorry,” you wept, the reaction not seeming to surprise him half as much as it did you. 

Running his thumb softly over your knuckles, he uttered simply, “it’s okay,” and you noticed how hard your body was shaking under his light grasp. 

“Y-you were on your way out and I’m keeping you, it’s–, I’m really sorry…”

“I’m not in any hurry, plum. I’ll head out whenever you’re ready. You just say the word and I’ll go.”

“Oh, man…” you breathed out as your fingertips ghosted over the dusty spines of the many novels lined up in front of you. 

You’d snuck out. Like a teenager in the night, you’d snuck out of Jackson. You weren’t particularly proud of it, being way too seasoned not to know the stupidity of not even leaving a note. 

But it was just a small trip, a few hours tops. You’d be back before anyone would realise you were gone. You just knew that they wouldn’t have let you go if you’d spoken up, at least not alone. 

With a few books already reserved, the hardcovers pressed tightly against your chest, locked in place by your forearm, you glanced up and spotted a particularly intriguing title, one that tickled a memory long forgotten. Lifting yourself onto your tiptoes and reaching your free hand up as far as it would go, your fingertips only managed to kiss the binding, not gaining nearly enough of a hold to get it down.

Giving it a few forceful pokes in hopes that it would just push the book enough for you to be able to grasp it fully and therefore quietly retrieve it, the hardcover instead came crashing down, causing not only a cloud of dust to puff up in the abandoned library but also sent a deafening thump echoing down deeper within the vast building. 

Freezing up, barely even breathing at all, you glanced down at the dropped book and a cluster of bloodcurdling, guttural screeches found your ears. As silently as you could manage, you reached for your knife, having not been able to grab a firearm back at Jackson since they were under much more severe security. 

Evidently, the library wasn’t as vacant as you’d thought. There turned out to be two, maybe three clickers scattered about, somewhere in the many rows of bookcases surrounding you. 

Needing both hands to defend yourself, you slowly shifted the books in your arm and slid the pile onto an open spot on the dusty shelf before you. Holding your breath, you hoped the action hadn’t created too much noise. 

Standing still, standing ever so still, you heard one of the creatures creep closer. Tightening your grip around the handle of your blade, you watched as the blooming fungi appeared around the corner. 

Debating for a moment if you should strike out or just keep standing there, hoping you could somehow hide amongst the stories long enough for you to eventually slip out, the sudden shriek it then produced as it whipped towards you decided your next move. 

Having luck on your side, your knife found purchases in the monster’s neck and as you sliced it open, exposing its mutated vocal cords. The clicker swiftly dropped to the floor, but the ruckus alarmed the rest of your exact location. 

With the second one being closer than you’d imagined, the fight was a struggle, and it ultimately forced you to the ground, the infected gnawed atop of you, biting the air in hopes that your tender flesh would accompany some of it. 

And just as you thought your doom had finally arrived, that you had lost all hope of triumph, a gunshot rang out amidst the books, blowing a lethal hole into the creature’s skull.

Sucking in a startled breath, you shoved the rotten corpse off of you. Before you could even manage to get back up on your feet, an outstretched hand appeared right in front of your face. 

Blinking up at Joel in alarm, the loud cry of the last remaining creature had you holding your sharp tongue. Accepting his aid, you got back up and quickly took a look around, prepared for the noisy gunshot to have sent the final one sprinting straight in your direction. 

As Joel spotted how your eyes promptly widened in horror, seizing the clue, he whirled around and covered your body with his broad form as he raised up his pistol, ready to unload into the clicker scampering towards you. 

It was only when it laid unmoving on the ground that you noticed how his hand was holding onto your midsection and shielding you protectively. Ripping it away at once, you then gave his sturdy form a big shove, “what the fuck are you doing here?”

“What am I doing–, what are you doing here?” Joel bellowed, “the hell were you thinking running off like that? Do you know how reckless, how goddamn stupid that was?”

Fighting the urge to slap him across that salt-and-pepper cheek of his, you scowled, “did you follow me?”

Either he purposefully ignored your question or perhaps he was just way too wrapped up in his own fury not to let himself continue, “do you have any idea what could have happened to you?”

“I can take care of a few infected myself,” you wiped your blade clean against your jeans, then folded it back up and tucked it away in your pocket. 

“I know that.”

“Then why–”

“Because the infected aren’t the only threat out here and you know it,” he dared to say. His twitching face softened ever so slightly at the grave look that promptly flooded your features, “they are still out there, Y/n.”

Blood boiling, you turned around on your heel, picked up the abandoned books and determinedly walked towards the exit, bumping your shoulder heatedly into him as you passed.

You’d nearly reached the outskirts of Jackson without uttering a single word to Joel. Not even once was a quick glance offered in his direction. It wasn’t like he had tried to get a verbal response from you since you’d exited the library, but just the fact that he was still there, following right behind you, just like the rapidly rising sun in the sky, made you feel like a ticking bomb.

Suddenly, you stopped your determined trek and broke the silence. 

“What made you think you have the right to do that, to say something like that? You don’t think I’m already painfully aware that they’re still out there?” the uncontrollable words spewed out passed your lips like venom, “you don’t know me, Joel. You don’t get to say stuff like that just because you’re Tommy’s brother.” 

“Y/n, I–”

Whirling around, you cut him off, tears blurring your bloodshot eyes, “do you really think I can’t protect myself? Protect myself against them? You don’t think I know them a hell of a lot better than any of you do? You don’t think I know all of their tactics, all of their ticks, exactly how they think better than any of you who haven’t even met them once? You don’t think I bothered to get to know every single detail about them when they held me captive? When they kept me as a fucking slave for their own sadistic pleasure? How do you think I finally escaped from there, huh? You think it was just dumb luck? Do you think I’m lucky? Is that what you would call luck? Would you really wanna call me of all people lucky?” you ignored your body’s wishes of throwing up your stomach contents instead of the painful sentences, “you have no idea what they did, what they–…” your voice broke, and you truly tried to continue, to speak, to share, knowing that the actual words would shut him up for good, but to no success. He didn’t say anything as he watched your lips frustratingly try over and over again to tell him, but in the end gave up, hissing at him right before you spun around again, “fuck you, Joel. I don’t want your help. I didn’t ask for it and I sure as hell don’t want it.”

As you began to walk away, his pleading voice stopped you, “don’t go after them on your own. With the resources here at Jackson, you could do it in a much smart way, in a way that doesn’t get you killed.”

Sniffling heatedly, you glared back at him, “what makes you think I’d actually do that?”

He glanced down at you in such a way that he looked like an immovable mountain, as if none of your threats had scared him off, “I know that look in your eye,” he uttered with unmistakable understanding shining clear through in his deep voice, “I know you’re desperate for things to get better, for you to be able to just breathe again. But I also know that that kind of desperation can be one hell of a motivator. Even if it’s not there yet, if you’re not already making a plan of attack, it’ll come,” he didn’t raise his voice once, keeping it low and steady, “and when it does, I just ask you to let us have your back, that’s all. If you ever want revenge, then let us help you.”

“I was thinking that maybe you could start helping out down in the greenhouses a bit,” Maria suggested as she, a little over a week after the library incident transpired, called you into her office to have a talk. 

“Uh, yeah, sure, that sounds fine,” you shrugged, blinking back at her over the wooden desk.  

Squinting her eyes at you a moment, she then went on, “there is actually something else that I wanna talk to you about…”

Already suspecting that there’d been an ulterior motive for the sudden meeting, you exhaled, “okay, shoot.”

“Plum, you’ve been back for, what, two months now? And, well, me and Tommy,” a breath paused her sentence before she continued, “we’re really worried about you,” but you didn’t offer her an answer as you simply averted your gaze with a quiet sigh, “I think it would really help if you talked to someone.” 

“Maria,” you noticed how tense your body had grown and deliberately attempted to make the sore muscles relax and let go, “I can’t talk to you guys about it. I just can’t.”

“Well, maybe you need it to be someone else then. A neutral third party. You know how it can sometimes be easier to tell all of your deep dark secrets to a complete stranger, like a bartender for example, and not to your very best friend?”

“What are you doing here?” you blinked, as the figure knocking at your door turned out to be none other than Joel. 

“Maria sent me.”

“Of course, she did…” you sighed as you swiftly stepped aside for him to enter the house that had only been yours for a little while now. 

“She was worried that you’re not eating,” he held up a small container of food for you to see, then sat it down on the dining table directly to the right of the entryway.

Closing the door after him, you then leaned against the wall, “well, I’m not hungry.”

Glancing up at you, he exhaled, “right,” then moved towards the exit again. 

Anxiously crossing your arms, you spoke up as he passed you, “hey Joel?”

“Yeah?” he stopped in his tracks, trying to catch your skittish eyes. 

“Can I–…” you tried, but then promptly remembered how you had yelled at him the last time you’d interacted with each other, and even though he always seemed to see right through it, always responded to it with that usual unwavering presence, you still couldn’t help but shrivel up and say, “no, forget it, it’s not important…”

“What is it?”

“No, it’s fine,” you stared down at the swirling woodgrain on the floors and waved a hand, “you go…”

Not moving his body an inch, he spoke, “Y/n,” and made you meet his gaze. 

“I just–…” you breathed deeply, “Maria told me to talk to someone and she had this idea that it might be easier if it was with someone that I didn’t really know…”

“Okay,” he nodded gently, as if you were a baby bird he didn’t want to spook away.  

Feeling your heart nearly beat out of your chest, you struggled, “can I talk to you? Can I–… can I try? Try to tell you?”

“Sure,” he answered swiftly, not needing a single second to ponder it, “but are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable with Tommy or someone else?” 

“Tommy still sees me as that little girl I was back when I first met him, and I don’t wanna take that away from him. I don’t wanna ruin that any more than I already have. I don’t care if your view of me changes after you hear, because you didn’t know me before. I don’t mind if you look at me as if I’m broken,” the pained exhale that then flowed out past his lips was so faint that you almost missed it entirely, “also, the thought of telling any of them exactly what happened just makes it seem so much more real, and I don’t think I could handle that…” just the thought caused fearful tears to trickle down your cheeks, “to be honest, I can barely handle it now… and you obviously don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, I would never force you to do anything,” you squeezed your eyes shut and rambled anxiously, “and it’s not like I’ve been abundantly nice to you lately, or really since we met, but I swear it had nothing to do with you, I just–”

“Y/n,” he cut you off, breathing as if he was trying to do it for the both of you, “I know, it’s fine. I don’t mind you using me as a punching bag. Rather me than someone who could potentially misinterpret it, although, with the way everyone here walks on eggshells around you, I don’t think they’d take your swings personally. So, if you want me to listen, then I’ll listen.”

“Right…”

You would surely break the skin if you kept on digging your nails into your palms as hard as you’d unconsciously been doing. Slowly moving towards the dining area, you both sat down at the table. For a long moment, you just sat there, quietly losing your mind while he patiently waited. 

“I don’t know how to do this,” you uttered into your palms as you hid behind them, “I don’t know where to start.”

“Just whatever comes to you first, it doesn’t have to be in order, doesn’t have to be everything now, just start somewhere and then go from there. You can just pretend I’m not even here if that helps.”

“Okay…” you choked out a small sob, then timidly began, “they–… they had this room down in the basement… there weren’t any windows, no light of any kind, so you couldn’t really tell if it was day or night or if you were down there for 1 hour or 24. They–, uhm, didn’t wanna grow bored of me, so that’s where they’d put me in order to keep me out of sight, keep me interesting for them. They always had me restrained in one way or another, kept weapons on me to get me to behave or even occasionally drugged me, although they saved that up for the most important people there… it wasn’t even the kind of drugs that made me forget, it just felt like they threw me right back in that dark hole again and I just couldn’t do anything. I could still feel every single thing, but I couldn’t even blink.” 

“I don’t really know when exactly it was, but I think it was during my first winter there that I–… it was inevitable for it to happen at some point… and they didn’t wanna try and perform an abortion, didn’t have the right equipment or the skills for it, so they just let nature run its course. And then when it happened they–…” your voice broke as you then uttered through your sobs, “you know, I didn’t even get to hold her…” silently hating yourself as you then actually admitted out loud, “and a part of me wished so hard for me to have just died during the delivery. For a while I let myself think that I’d finally found a way out. That I would finally be free. That my little girl would help me end it all… and for the longest time, I couldn’t let myself love her, because that’s not how it’s supposed to be. That’s not how you’re supposed to make a new life. It shouldn’t be a consequence of being a slave, of being raped and tortured. She was a consequence. She was a consequence, but I still grew to love her. I didn’t want her, but I still loved her… and they slaughtered her in front of me like a fucking stock animal.”

“Y/n?” you suddenly heard from over your shoulder, effectively ripping you out of your trance-like state as the fresh memories of the nauseating dream you’d woken from still flooded your being, the cold sweat still dripping down your spine. 

Whipping your head around, you glanced up at the man standing in the doorway and breathed, “I’m sorry,” your arms still tightly wrapped around your knees as you sat upon the cold steps of Joel’s front porch. 

Stepping out onto the moonlit deck, Joel exhaled slowly, “how long have you been sitting out here?” and slowly planted himself in one of the weathered chairs. 

“I don’t know,” you uttered wearily, your eyes returning to the cluster of bushes off in the distance, “I just woke up from this nightmare and then I remembered that you–”

“That I told you to come here instead of just being alone with it,” he finished for you.

“Yeah…”

After a moment, his low gravelly voice found your ears once more, “why didn’t you come in?” 

With the cold wind still tickling your face and reminding you to breathe, you answered, “I–, uhm… I don’t know…” 

Your shaky legs were the ones that had prevented you from going any further and forced you to essentially curl up into a ball as soon as you had reached the small splintery steps.

“Okay,” he murmured simply. 

Glancing back at him in the chair, his eyes intently glued on his interlocked fingers, you caught sight of the instrument still propped up beside him.

“Hey, Joel?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you–…” but the rest of your sentence fell short. 

“What?” he asked softly, then pressed further when you kept your mouth shut, “what is it?”

With a sharp inhale, you pushed enough of your nerve-wracking thoughts aside to ask, “would you play me something?” your eyes nowhere near his as the words left your lips. 

“Oh,” his brows lifted in gentle surprise as he glanced down at the guitar, “sure,” then picked it up, “anything specific you had in mind?”

“No, just something, anything.”

“Okay,” he breathed, letting his long fingers ghost over the strings as he pondered the possibilities, “uh, alright,” and with a small nod he began to play, gently strumming out a soft song reminiscent of a lullaby.

The melody at first washed over your body like a warm sip of tea, but after a bit, the feeling changed as you felt him not only pluck at the strings of the instrument, but also the ones on your heart, unexpectedly bringing tears to your already bloodshot eyes. 

“Thank you,” your shaky voice interrupted his midnight performance. 

“It’s just a song.” 

“No, Joel,” you clarified as the sight of your tears made him set the guitar back down, “thank you for everything.”

“Y/n,” he sighed almost painfully, “you really don’t have to thank me.”

“But I want to,” you spoke determinedly, briefly raising a hand up to wipe your wet cheek, “I–,” you let out a heavy exhale, “I am both incredibly grateful and also so, so sorry that you had to hear all of that, that you’re helping me the way that you are…”

Studying your expression a moment longer, he then uttered, “do you not want me to help you or do you just not want anyone to help you?” his earnest observation hit you like a ton of bricks, “plum, you of all people deserve help. I truly feel like I’m not doing enough, I barely do anything at all,” catching your eye, he then added assuringly, “and you did not force or trick me into this, so please stop looking at me as if you did.”

“Well, hello,” the greeting bubbled out of you as you spotted Joel walking past your front porch, “funny seeing you here.”

Stopping in his tracks, he glanced up and spotted you leaning against the railing with a breezy smile upon your face, “hi.”

Squinting your eyes at him for a second, you spoke, “I know why I’m not at the party, but why aren’t you?” the faint bustle of the gathering still softly echoed from a distance. 

“I actually just came from there,” he tugged his hands into his pockets, his warm breath clear in the night air, “just on my way back.”

“Already? Damn, you must be a lot older than Tommy told me,” you teased, suddenly feeling the veranda sway slightly beneath your feet, making your fingers tighten their grip on the railing, “bailing on a party after only an hour.”

Furrowing his brows in your direction, he then asked, “Y/n, are you drunk?” 

“No,” but your light-hearted lie wasn’t convincing at all so you followed it up with, “okay, yeah, I might be a little buzzed.” 

“Right,” he chuckled and twisted to return to his journey home, “just don’t stay out here in the cold too long.”

“Why?” you scoffed through your giggle, halting his footsteps yet again.

“Just because the alcohol feels like it’s warming you up, doesn’t mean you won’t get hypothermia. Especially dressed like that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” waving a hand in his direction, you fibbed, “I’ll go back inside in a bit.” 

“Just put on a jacket at least.”

“Nice trick, mister,” you chuckled, “but I’m not going back inside after my jacket. I know you,” one of your fingers pointed accusingly at him as he suddenly abandoned his original destination and walked up your steps, “you’ll just barricade the door or something as soon as I’m inside,” though when you saw him shrug his own thick coat off and drape it over your frame, your jovial smile fell from you joking lips, “oh, I wasn’t trying to–”

“Just shut up and take it,” he quietly cut off your protest, then rested his forearms against the railing and stared out onto the dim town beyond. 

Blinking over at him for a second, you eventually gave in and accepting the warm layer, “…thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Slotting in beside him, your eyes soon drifted up to look at the night sky, absentmindedly uttering, “you know, my grandma knew the names of all the different constatations in the sky, told me all about them when I came over as a kid, but somehow, I still only remember the name of big dipper. I mean, I know them, I know every single one of them, just not the names anymore. Funny how things just slip away like that. No matter how hard you fight to remember, it all just ends up being like a dream,” you then dropped your vision to find Joel already looking at you. 

Maybe it was the alcohol at work or maybe it was the months of confusing feelings finally colliding, but the next thing you knew you had leaned in and pressed your lips against his. With the whole world spinning, you felt one of his hands instinctually find purchases on your waist and the other on your cool cheek. But just as quickly as it had happened, that’s how abruptly it ended when Joel suddenly took a tense step back, his fingers still lingering a second longer as you blinked up at him in dazed amazement. 

“Plum, I–…” he didn’t move an inch as you briefly saw a look of genuine fear wash over his severe features, “you should probably head off to bed.”

“What?” you sounded down right out of breath. 

Keeping his eyes averted, he dodged, “drink some water, maybe eat a bit so that you don’t feel as bad tomorrow,” and slowly backed away, recoiling as if he had just broken a priceless vase.  

Too stunned to run after him and still enveloped in his jacket, you shouted, “Joel!” watching from the porch as he disappeared.

“About the other night…” you spoke when finally, after days of trying, you caught Joel before he could slip away again. 

Not letting you finish your thought, he breathed, “you were drunk,” and kept his eyes glued to the floorboard below.

“I wasn’t that drunk,” you uttered softly, staring at his tense form. 

“I’m sorry,” his head shook lightly. The mental whip he lashed across his own back was so clear that you could nearly make it out yourself. 

“For what?”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you like that,” his eyes squeezed shut as his face crinkled up in regret, “I shouldn’t have kissed you at all.”

“You kissed me?” your eyebrows shot up, “Joel, I was the one kissing you.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, keeping his eyes closed as his head gently swayed from side to side. 

“Joel,” your soft voice tried to penetrate his shield as you took a step closer to him, “Joel… please, look at me…”

Face twitching like a scared little boy, his eyes finally fluttered open, brows twisting up in heartbreak as he noticed the earnest way you were gazing up at him. 

It didn’t take more than a heavy shared breath for you both to wordlessly understand.

“I’m too old for you,” he murmured. 

“No, you’re not,” you stated gently, taking another step towards him. 

“Y/n, you don’t really like me like that,” he tried, “not really,” though his feet still didn’t move to get away. 

“Just shut up. Stop making up dumb excuses. Just be honest with me, only push me away if you really don’t want this.”

“What I want is not important…”

“That’s not true… Joel, you are probably the only man in the world that doesn’t scare me. And I didn’t really get why that was earlier, because it didn’t make sense at all, but I do now. I get it now. I didn’t want it to happen, and I don’t know when it did, but Joel, I like you,” you heard your voice break as tears began to blur your vision, “and maybe I’m wrong, maybe I’m just completely blind to all of that now, but it just seemed like you liked me back…”

“Y/n…”

“But if don’t, then I’d really appreciate it if you’d just come right out and say it so that I can just leave you alone and let you forget that any of this ever happened.”

“Plum…”

“Please just tell me…” you begged, feeling his trembling breath hit your skin, “just say that you don’t like me…”

“I can’t…” he breathed, his brown eyes flickering over your face, “you deserve so much better.” 

“I know,” tears finally breached and rolled down your cheeks, “so let me have something better. Show me what I deserve.”

“Wow,” Joel giggled as you unexpectedly used all of your strength to yank him inside, “hi.”

Your lips didn’t waste any more time, immediately latching onto his and needily kissing him as you kicked the door shut behind you, “I’ve missed you.” 

“Plum, it’s only been a few days,” he chuckled against your peck. 

“Yeah, well I still missed you,” then added as your fingers tangled in the buttons of his dark green flannel, “a lot.”

“Oh, yeah?” he hummed as you backed him up towards the couch.

“Yeah,” you beamed in between kisses, “I really wish I could go on patrol with you, be out there just the two of us, but Maria still doesn’t think I’m ready,” you then grumbled pettily, “which is complete fucking bull shit.” 

“You will get there, just be patient,” the back of his legs hit the sofa and your grasp on his broad shoulders guided him the rest of the way down.

“And what if I don’t wanna be patient, huh?” you smirked, straddling his lap and capturing his lips in another ravenous kiss. 

After nearly ripping the last of his buttons clean off, you parted just long enough for you to lift your warm sweater over your head. Your fingers swiftly seized the hem of your t-shirt, the last remaining layer that remained before your bare boobs sprung free inches away from his face. 

Snatching your hands before you got the chance to shred any more clothing, Joel caught your dilated pupils and checked, “you sure?”

“Please Joel, I want this,” you begged, practically on the brink of tears. Still noting the hesitation in his eye, you wiggled a hand free, placed it on his bearded jaw and told him, “I am not gonna break. You won’t break me,” feeling his hold still not yield, you breathed, “please, I want this so bad, I want you, I wanna feel you, I wanna feel all of you.”

Searching your eyes, his form then slowly relaxed beneath you and the elated giggle that bubbled out of your throat as you noticed caused a smile to bloom on his stern features as well. 

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” you uttered adoringly.

Tightening his grasp on the edge of your shirt, Joel slowly lifted it up, his large palms swiftly smoothing down your wild hair as the cotton neckline messed it up. 

“I missed you too,” his breathy tone made it difficult for you to stay back and let him get a good look at you, as the urge to have his lips again seemed absolutely excruciating. Feeling his fingers drift down from your head to where his eyes were glued to, your hips instinctually rolled down against his thighs as he uttered, “you are so beautiful,” sounding nearly hypnotised as the soft light glowing from the window behind you cast a halo of light around your perched form. 

Curling an arm around your waist, his hand stretched down and breached the waistband of your jeans, promptly using the hold to yank you even closer towards him, a move that made you lose your breath. 

You couldn’t hold back the desperate whine that flowed out as you felt his prevalent tent poke against your throbbing core. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you shuttered as he grabbed the nape of your neck to guide you back for another taste. 

Tongues danced against each other, moans were exchanged like the breath you shared and both of your wandering hands weren’t shy to explore the other’s body as you feverishly rocked down against him. 

Although as one of his hands let go of the toe-curling hold it had on the left of your pebbly nipples to slide up towards your face, it never fully arrived at the assumed destination as his fingers unexpectedly enclosed around your throat. His hold was gentle, simply resting there in an effort to keep you close, but unfortunately, that wasn’t how your body understood it. 

Freezing up at once, your breath got caught in your throat as tears instantly welled up in your eyes. Your whole body started shaking as your heart-breaking voice burst through your partner’s haze.

“Joel.”

Snapping out of the ecstasy at once, he reeled back and took in how quickly your whole world had flipped upside down. 

Hearing him suck in a breath that never truly flowed out again, he swiftly grabbed his shredded flannel, balled up beside him, and draped it over your trembling shoulders, though his fingers just hovering as he did so, being too scared to truly touch you again. 

Your hands were still frozen, mid-air, right in front of your body as you wept, “I-I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no, I’m sorry. I’m–, fuck, I’m so sorry, plum.”

As excruciating memories flared up throughout your traumatized form and lit it ablaze, you still kept on blubbering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I want this, I really, really want this,” your jaw clenched in fury as you felt your body betray you, “you gotta believe me, I wanna–, I–…” your plea got snuffed out as your sobs took over and you jaggedly sunk down and buried your face in his chest, your fingers eventually gaining enough strength to clutch against his warm frame for an ounce of support. 

“I know you do, I know…”

An immediate cry burst free as you jolted awake. 

Panting, your body blurred the line between reality and dream as you slowly sat up in bed. Feeling the mattress dip beside you, a groggy hand brushed against your thigh, which you instinctually shifted away from, clutching both your knees to your chest as tears dripped from your chin down onto the duvet below. Hearing a soft groan as the man beside you awoke, it didn’t take long before your sobs pierced his peaceful rest. 

“Y/n?” you felt Joel sit up beside you.

“I–,” you gasped for air, “I can’t breathe.” 

“Okay, alright,” you shakily turned your head to look at him, “just, uhm, look at me, focus on me,” he haphazardly thought of a way to help, “you’re right here, you’re in Jackson, you’re safe,” he abstained the urge to reach out and touch you, almost as if it could burn him, or maybe more correctly, that he could burn you.

Trembling, your hand found his, vibrating against it for but a moment before he enveloped his long fingers around it, his shoulders relaxing slightly at the gesture. Your chaotic eyes flickered down towards his chest for guidance, as your laboured breathing still survived on short little puffs that were beginning to make you feel as if you’d faint. 

Noticing, Joel raised your clasped hands up and pressed them against his chest, letting your palm feel how it rose and fell beneath his worn t-shirt. Gradually, as the soft thumping of his heart tickled your hand and accompanied the intakes of air, you regained more control and your own lungs began to return to a more normal pace. Eventually, your desperate sobs turned into just a gentle trickle of tears till they too began to run out.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” you uttered, absolutely exhausted from that start to your day. 

“It’s fine,” his thumb brushed over the back of your hand, then after a moment asked you softly, “are you okay?”

“I–, u-uh,” a shiver ran down your spine, “I don’t know…”

“Okay,” Joel nodded simply, letting your enveloped hands drift down from the guiding touch against his chest. 

Glancing wearily out the nearby window, you uttered absentmindedly, “it’s not light out yet…”

“No, it is not,” he agreed softly.

Having no clue how many hours were left of the eerie night, you spoke, “you should go back to sleep, you can probably still get enough rest to somewhat resemble a human tomorrow.”

“Do you wanna go back to sleep?”

“No,” your answer came out instantly, the shadowy moonlight keeping the memories of the nightmare alive and preventing you from shaking it completely, “I don’t–, I–… no.”

“Okay,” his voice again was as soft as the duvet that enveloped you, “what do you need right now? What could help?” 

“I don’t know…” your lip quivered as tears welled up in your eyes once more, “I just want it to be day again. You know, things are always a bit better when the sun is out… maybe that’s silly, but it just feels like it. Things kinda loosen their grip on you easier when you’re not drowning in darkness…”

“So, then we’ll wait,” he shifted his fingers to improve his grip on your hand.

“Oh, you don’t have to wait with me, it’s okay, I’m okay now that I’m awake–” you attempted, but with little success as he interrupted your fib. 

“We will wait,” his eyes found yours in the darkness.

“…okay,” you exhaled, your shoulders relaxing a bit. 

And there you remained for who knows how long, watching together from the warm bed as the dark skies out the nearby window gradually lightened, soon presenting clouds in shades of rose and lavender and the sun eventually cresting from beyond the adjacent mountains.

“Like that?” you asked as you tried to press upon the instrument’s strings in the same way that Joel had just shown you. 

“Close,” sitting behind you, he watched your attempt over your shoulder, “like this,” with his arms already wrapped around your form, he readjusted your fingers for the pointer to stretch to an even higher spot on the neck of the guitar, pressing his own callused fingertip over yours to help you hold the stiff string down. 

“Joel,” you whined softly as your hand could barely spread out that far, nor press down hard enough to make the correct sound when moulded in that manner, “I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can,” you felt the scratch of his bearded cheek against yours as you let the grip go. 

“My hands aren’t big enough to do complicated chords like that.”

“Well, it’s actually a fairly basic one–”

“Oh, shut up,” you chuckled, turning your head to gaze into his warm eyes, your vision briefly flickering down to his smiling lips as you purred, “you would say that with fingers like yours…” 

Capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, you let go of the guitar completely, leaving it in Joel’s hands alone as you craned your body, and your fingers found his face. 

Still feeling his gentle pecks linger upon your smile, you uttered, “I don’t think I’m gonna be the next–, uh… you know what, I don’t really remember the names of any famous guitarists right now, but you get the picture.”

“You just need to practice, that’s all.” 

Pursing your lips in an effort to hide your smile, “or maybe I should just go back to just watching you play.”

“You’re giving up already?” he asked playfully. 

“What? It was a sweet gesture to teach me, really, but I unfortunately just don’t think I have the right anatomy for it,” you wiggled one of your comparatively small hands in front of his face before he leaned forward, attacking the palm with his tender lips. 

“But do you really have to go?” you whined into his chest, your arms only tightening around his form, “I’m sure Eugene would fill in for you or–, uhm, Jesse! He’s all young and eager to be out there.”

“You’re killing me, you know that, right?” he chuckled, tilting your chin up to catch your eye. 

You were officially on the verge of marching over to Maria, once more, to ask if you could go out again. You both craved the morbid normality of going on patrols, loathing so deeply the way everyone in the town treated you as if you were made of fragile porcelain, the infected out there would never change no matter how much you did, and that fact was weirdly comforting to you. But it was also, deep down, because you hadn’t left Joel’s side for weeks now and the thought of being alone again, of going back to that house that you hadn’t even slept in for who knows how long, the thought of him maybe not returning, those too clouded your mind and caused your arms around his body to cling on even tighter.

“Stay here with me where it’s warm and there aren’t any infected and where you can enjoy much, much better company than Tommy. I’m sorry, I love the guy, but it’s true,” you jested, “I am way more fun than him.” 

“Yeah, you wanna tell him all of that when he comes a-knocking in a bit looking for me? Let him find out that you’re the reason I’m not doing my job?”

Slowly unravelling your arms, you took a step back and inspected his cautious expression. 

“Joel, are you–… are you scared of your brother finding out about us?”

“I don’t know if I’d call it that,” he apprehensively tried, “I just–”

“What?” you severed the remnants of your clinging hug, “are you ashamed of me or something?” 

“No! Oh my god, no!” he rushed out immediately, his coffee eyes growing wide, “Y/n, I am not ashamed of you in any way, please believe that,” his words dripped with desperation. 

“Alright,” you breathed, though your brows didn’t unfurrow in the slightest, “but then why do you wanna keep us a secret?”

“I don’t wanna keep us a secret, I just–…” he averted his gaze and uttered, “they trusted me to help you, you trusted me enough to let me in and then I–…”

“Then I kissed you. I was the one taking that step. Do you really think your brother would believe that you took advantage of me?”

“Plum, I know what you mean to him.”

“Even so, you really think he’d believe that? That he would think you would ever do something like that to a person?” 

Exhaling slowly, “I don’t know… He’s known me all his life. Seen every side of me, good and bad. I don’t know if he’d believe that, but I know I would if I was in his shoes.”

Staring down at your feet, you gnawed your bottom lip and eventually spoke, “when will you get back?”

“Maybe tomorrow or the day after that.”

Slowly lifting your eyes up to meet his, you nodded simply “okay,” though didn’t move to offer him another warm farewell.

Picking up his backpack that waited by the front door, his fingers stopped right before turning the handle and glanced back at you, “you know,” his fingers that weren’t clutching the door fidgeted apprehensively at his side, “you can stay here while I’m gone,” your shoulders relaxed as he essentially read your mind, “if you want. If that could somehow make things easier–”

But he didn’t get to finish his kind offer as you marched over towards him and snatched his head down for a kiss. 

“Be safe,” you rested your forehead against his for a moment as you felt his warm palm slide over your waist, accompanying the relieved sigh that flowed out of him. 

“You too,” he breathed in your scent a second longer before he slipped out of your grasp and exited the home, not daring, even once, to look back at your form through the small window adorning the door.

“Hey plum?” you heard the front door creak open, “you in here?”

Groggily, you answered, “Joel?” laying on the couch, you turned your head to spot the figure soon appearing in the doorway.

Slowing down to a stop as he crossed the threshold into the living room, he smiled at the seemingly just lazy nap he had interrupted, “heya sleepyhead.”

“How did you know I was still here?” you weakly raised yourself up onto your elbows, the room still spinning just as much as it had this morning.

“I didn’t,” he came to sit by your blanket-covered feet, “but I thought it was a safe bet since you weren’t at home. I actually found something out there that–, hey,” he finally noticed how pale your face was, “are you okay?” 

“Yeah, just a little sick,” you shrugged.

With your calm demeanour not rubbing off on him, he asked, “you wanna go down to the clinic?” lifting his palm up to gently touch your warm forehead. 

“Joel,” you grabbed his hand softly, “I’m fine, it’s just a fever. Now, what did you find?”

Eyes still brimming with worry, he kept his one hand in yours while the other unzipped the backpack leaning up against his feet, “we came across this bookstore when we were moving through an area yesterday, and I just so happen to find this,” he produced a thick copy of a book with a very familiar faded blue font.

“No way,” you snatched it up and inspected it to make sure it actually was the sequel you thought it was, “no fucking way!”

“I remembered how pissed you were at the first one’s cliff-hanger, so I just thought–”

“Joel,” blinked up at him in amazement.

“You like it?”

“Are you kidding me?” you giggled, throwing your arms around him, “I love it, I love–, I love it, thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome, it would’ve been a travesty if you never found out if they managed to get the–, uhm, sword?”

“Axe, it’s a magical axe.”

“Right,” he chuckled as you leaned back against the armrest and cracked the novel open, “hey,” your eyes flicked up to meet his again, “you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, “but you know what would make me feel even better?”

“What?” he chuckled at the sly grin that bloomed upon your lips.

“If you read me the first few chapters.”

Plucking your feet up for them to rest upon his thighs as he scooted closer, “alright. One chapter and then you try and get some more rest, okay?” he reached out for you to hand him the book.

You had no idea when the lazy morning kisses had turned into something more, something that both felt like falling asleep, but also like you were overflowing with a sudden energy as fire spread throughout your body. 

Completely lost in the moment, sprawled out on top of Joel’s form, completely pressed against him as your tongue danced softly against his own, it was first when you picked up on the muffled sighs coming from your partner that you noticed the way your hips needily rocked against his own. When they had decided to seek out what they craved, you didn’t know, but you weren’t gonna stop them now, you couldn’t, it simply felt too incredible. 

“Plum,” Joel groaned, though you just hummed in return as your lips wandered over his stubbly jaw, “fuck, just–,” with an arm still around your form, resting on top of his, he gently rotated your bodies, causing you to plop down on the mattress next to him, “hi, good morning,” he painstakingly reeled his head back from yours.

Curling your leg back up over his hip, you purred back, “it really is a good morning, isn’t it?” the tent in his boxers nudging against your throbbing core as you nuzzled back into him, your eyelids fluttering at the sensation. 

“Maybe it’s about time we–, uh-uhm, get up?” he sucked in a deep breath, obviously attempting to simmer down the result of your escalated tender beginning to the day. 

“Nah, I’d much rather stay here with you a little longer,” you breathed, “wouldn’t you?” batting your eyelashes up at him.

“I–, fuck, of course, but­–”

“But what?” your fingers slid across his cheek, weaving them through his short beard.

“Don’t you think we should stop before something happens?”

“We could,” you tried your best to keep the traumatic door he was scratching at closed, “but I’m just letting you know that if you get up now, I’ll just take matters into my own hands… do you really wanna get up and leave when you know I’ll be right here thinking about you?” 

“I just don’t want you to–”

“Me neither,” you shook your head quickly as you cut his worry short, “please, Joel,” your words dripped with desperation as you grabbed his wrist and pulled it down between your bodies, “I’m so fucking wet right now,” you cupped his palm against the soaked cotton between your thighs, “it would be so mean to just leave me like this.”

Listening as his breathing grew weightier, his eyes fluttered a moment as he thought it over, hand not moving an inch, “you sure?”

“I promise I will tell you if it changes,” you swore, feeling like a wildfire was tearing through your body, then let out a whimper as you felt his hand slowly withdraw, “please.”

Staring directly into your soul, he nodded softly, “okay.”

“Okay?” you asked, still dumbfoundedly clawing at his retracting hand. 

“Okay, go ahead,” he clarified, caressing your confused fingers a moment before tangling his own with them, “I’m not gonna stop you from making yourself feel good.” 

Letting out a jagged exhale as a soft smile bloomed on your lips, you tilted your chin up and crashed your lips into his, your relieved giggle vibrating into the kiss. 

Dipping your fingers below your waistband, even just the lightest touch against your buzzing clit had you letting out a deliciously desperate sound that made you break from his adoring lips. Feeling them linger on your face a moment longer, softly pecking your flushed cheek and the tip of your nose, he then pulled back a bit, his free hand sliding up to the side of your features as he gazed lovingly at your blissful expression.

Feeling the hand clutching yours not let go as you had assumed it would, on the contrary, you felt it tighten its grip and squeeze yours encouragingly as the sloppy sounds emanating from between your legs filled the bedroom, “are you gonna join me?”

“No,” his genuine smile smooshed lightly against the pillow beneath his face as his thumb caressed your cheekbone softly, “I’m good right here.”

“But–”

“Trust me, I’ll be fine, this is all I want, all I need, just seeing you touch yourself like this right in front of me, watching you give yourself exactly the kind of pleasure you want, hearing those beautiful sounds you make, fuck…” he said, giving you all of the control, “yeah, I’m good.”

Staring back into his kind eyes in amazement, you breathed out just the remnants of a smile and uttered, “okay.”

“Just do what feels good, plum,” he encouraged, sharing your breath as you kept up the tight circles you drew over your puffy little pearl, “what you like,” he broke the intense eye contact and rested his forehead against your own, “what you need.” 

His deep voice made your eyes flutter. The heated morning make-out session had worked you up so much that you barely needed anything more in order to reach that sought-after high. If he hadn’t stopped you before, if it had just lasted a minute longer you would have probably cum right there, rubbing yourself against his strong thigh. So, the addition of his words was almost too much to bear.

Lifting your entangled hands up towards his lips, he kissed your knuckles gently, tilting his head back to admire your electric expression, how your brows knitted together and your mouth hung agape. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he uttered as your moans gradually grew louder and you found yourself tumbling over the edge before you even realised you’d reached it. 

After your legs had relaxed from their light flailing and your breath began to come in more gently, completely dazed, you stared up at Joel as he soon asked you carefully, “are you okay?”

“Holy shit…” you breathed as you sluggishly slipped your wet fingers back out of your underwear.

With his large hand still on the side of your face, he searched your fuzzy eyes, “plum? Are you–”

“Y-yeah, fuck,” you tightened your hand in his and lulled forward, resting your forehead against his once again, “I’m–, yeah… I’m good…”

“Hey, are you okay?” Joel asked as he felt your body suddenly stiffen up in his lap. 

“I­–…” you exhaled slowly, focusing your jittery vision on his warm eyes, “this just got very real all of a sudden…”

“Yeah…” his wide palm moved gently over your bare back, his respectful gaze staying on your face and not drifting down to soak up the distracting vision of your collective nude forms moulded against each other, “do you wanna stop?”

“No,” you shook your head lightly. 

“Do you wanna do something else? Because you know I’m fine, we don’t have to do this.”

“No, I really, really want to, I just–…” your eyes drifted down to stare at his shoulder while you spoke sincerely, “I wanna stay here with you and not have my mind wander off and get confused…”

“I want you to stay here too, more than anything,” his fingers tangled themselves in your hair, bringing your eyes back up to meet his, “what can I do? What can I do to help?”

“I don’t know…” you offered him a shy shrug, “I guess you could try and remind me? Help keep me focused on this, on you…”

“Okay,” he agreed softly, his thumb swiping over your flushed cheek, “well, you’re right here with me, there is no one else, just you and me, plum.” 

“Yeah,” you exhaled, your shoulders relaxing under his comforting touch. 

“And you know that I’ve got you, right? No matter what, no matter how, I’ve got you.”

Feeling a soft smile warm up your face, you echoed, “you’ve got me,” and absentmindedly rolled your hips once more against his own, rubbing your leaking cunt all over the underside of his length as it stood proud. 

Leaning in to steal a chased kiss, you sneaked your hand down between your forms and ghosted your fingers over his girth. Joel sucked in a breath as you slowly gained more confidence, dancing your fingertips over his slick stained dick. 

With a hand rooted on his chest as an anchor, you needily began to buck your hips against him, your weeping folds enveloping his cock as you rocked against him.  

“Fuck,” Joel hissed in pleasure, his nose bumping lightly against your own as he commented on the slick sounds accompanying every desperate rock, “you’re so wet.”

Brows knitted together, you let your head drop down and hide in the crook of his neck. Your whimpers vibrated against his skin and as you felt the fire inside of you begin to grow out of control, so did the confession that irrepressibly flowed from your blissful lips. 

“I love you.” 

You instantly froze up, feeling your swollen clit throb against his hard cock. 

“Oh my god…” he breathed, sounding utterly amazed. 

“I–…” you continued to hide, “oh god, I’m sorry… I–, I’m sorry…”

“No, hey, hey,” his hands found your neck and gently pulled you back, “why are you sorry, huh?” he searched your averted gaze. 

“I didn’t mean to say that.”

“You didn’t mean it?”

“No, I just didn’t mean to blurt it out like that!” completely mortified, you brought your hands up to shield your face.

“…so you–”

“I’m sorry, I just–”

“Plum,” you felt his thumbs swipe over the backs of your hands, begging them to reveal your face to him, “please stop apologizing for telling me the best thing you could ever say,” holding your breath, you slowly let your fingers fall down. Sucking in a gasp of air, he gazed into your nervous eyes and uttered earnestly, “I love you too.”

Feeling lightheaded, you breathed, “what?”

“I love you,” he repeated with a small chuckle as the words sank in. 

“You–… you do?”

“Yeah, of course I do, I mean, how could I not–,” but he didn’t get to gush any further as you feverishly grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss, an amazed giggle soon interrupting from your adoring lips. 

“I love you,” you smiled, planting a dozen pecks all over his face. His arms wrapped around your form and enveloped you in warmth as he contentedly rocked the both of you lightly in his embrace. 

“I love you,” he beamed as you gently raised your hips up and grabbed his twitching length, aligning it with your entrance, “I lo–… love–… holy shit,” he cursed as you slowly sank down on his fat girth.

The sensation of him stretching you out had a confusing cocktail of emotions flooding your system. It both felt so beyond amazing because it was him, it was Joel, but it also had your body trembling with the assault of tainted memories.

Your wide eyes eventually locked on his as you stilled in his lap, letting the warmth of his kind eyes ground you as you breathed, sounding like you were sucking in your very first breath, “Joel,” your chest rose and fell rapidly as your vision washed over his face. 

With one arm staying safely around your torso, the other hand drifted up to the side of your head, “yeah, it’s me, it’s just me,” lovingly taming your wild hair as you steadied your fevered breath. 

Feeling your body relax under his touch, your fluttering eyes darkened as you instinctively rolled your hips, “Joel,” watching his face contort beautifully as you grinded in his lap, letting his cock nuzzle in that much deeper. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” the arm that was tangled around you snaked down so that the hand could supportively grip your backside, “keep saying my name, just like that,” you then desperately picked up the pace, moaning intoxicatedly at the sound of his deep voice, “it’s just me, I’ve got you.”

Half of the time when his name left your lips, the mantra sounded utterly incoherent as your moans drowned it out, leaving the whispered prayer completely unrecognizable. 

Asking for permission with his gaze, he kept his eyes locked on yours as he lowered his head down enough to bury it in the swell of your tit, feeling his hot tongue swipe across your skin as his cock stretched you out so intoxicatingly. 

With one hand firmly aiding your fevered pace, the other one stayed right where your bodies met, swirling your swollen clit with a firmness that made it difficult for you to keep your hazy eyes open. 

“Joel,” you let him take over as you neared the end, surprising you with how effortlessly he bounced you in his lap, sloppy wet sounds filling the living room as your skin slapped against each other with every needy thrust, your juices undoubtedly dripping down onto the couch at this point. Whimpering as you clambered down around him, “Joel,” you nearly choked his dick to death as you came on his cock.

Your thighs trembled violently as he let out a string of beautifully lewd moans, holding you there and fucking your spasming pussy just a few more times before he pulled you back just enough for him to yank out his angry cock, pumping it quickly in his tight fist, his forearm flexing under the strain as hot ropes of cum spilt out and painted your heaving belly. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, breathing heavy as he pulled you in to kiss your cheek. Draping both of his arms around you and holding you close, you felt his heartbeat thump against your chest as you slowly regained composure of your own ragged breathing, “you okay, Y/n?” 

“I–… I think so…” you blinked back at him, completely starry-eyed, “oh my god, I love you…”

“I love you,” he couldn’t help the relieved, breathy chuckle that bubbled out of him, “fuck, I’m so proud of you. You–, you’re–…” his eyes flicked across your face, his brain visibly melting at the way you looked back at him right now, “christ, I love you…”

In the bustle of your soft giggling, Tommy, smile still plastered on his lips, asked you unexpectedly, “so, how long have you been seeing him?”

Nearly choking on your tea, you somehow managed to not spit out any of the hot liquid as you glared at him in shock, “I’m sorry, what?”

Taking a casual sip of his own mug, he said, “my brother,” gloating as he lowered it again, smugly staring down into the cup, “how long have you been keeping it a secret?”

“I–…” you blinked, stunned a moment by how he could have found out, “I haven’t been keeping it a secret, I just haven’t been advertising it…”

Raising his brown eyes up to look at you, he asked you sincerely, “you happy?”

“Yeah,” a soft smile bloomed on your lips as it was now your turn to stare down at the amber beverage sloshing around in your cup, “I think I am.”

“Good,” he nodded gently, “and just for the record, he might be my big brother, but if he ever tries anything, I will not hesitate.”

“What, are you gonna beat him up for me?” you chuckled. 

“Maybe,” he drew out, your giggle causing him to smile, “or maybe I’ll rat him out to Maria and she’ll make sure he gets kicked out.” 

“You’d kick your own brother out of Jackson?” your brows shot up in disbelief. 

“If he ever hurts you, yeah,” he admitted, “I love him, but you’re my family too, and Jackson was your home way before it was his. You deserve dibs.”

“Hey, Eugene,” you greeted the scraggly man seemingly waiting outside of Maria’s office, “have you seen Joel? Did he come in with you?”

Eyes widening a moment at your sudden appearance, he straightened up and muttered, “I–, uh, I think he’s probably checking up on Ellie, so you should over go there.”

“Uhm, no, I actually just checked there, just in case. She said she saw him ride in this morning, but hadn’t heard from him since,” fear suddenly flooding your senses as you asked tensely, “is he okay? Did something happen? Is that why the shift took so long this time? Is he in the infirmary?” 

“No, no,” he raised his inked hand up in reassurance, “plum, he’s fine, he’s probably just busy or something.”

Looking him up and down, your head tilted slightly as you noticed just how tense he was and how his waiting in front of the door almost looked like he was guarding it…

“Why are you acting so weird?”

“Me?” he forced a chuckle, “I’m not acting weird. Just go home. If I spot him, then I’ll send him your way, promise.” 

“What’s going on in there?” you nodded to the heavy door, firmly blocked by his frame. 

“Nothing’s going on,” he said a bit too quickly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then why are you guarding the door?”

“I’m not guarding the door.”

“Oh, yeah?” you squinted your eyes, huffing out a heated breath, “then let me in. Let me go talk to Maria.”

“Maria’s not in there right now.”

“Really? Then who is?” you asked, receiving nothing but silence, “let me in, Eugene.”

“Can’t do that, plum. Just do me a favour, go home, relax–”

“Don’t fucking tell me to relax,” you roared, ripping your arm away as he tried to reach out for you.

Searching his tense eyes, your racing mind came to a conclusion quicker than the last grain of sand rushing through an hourglass, irreversible as your fist then suddenly came down upon his temple, knocking him out cold. 

As you creaked the door open, you heard Joel’s low timbre before you saw him, “I’m gonna ask you nicely one last time, where is your group? We know that you moved, so where to?” 

Rounding the corner, your entire body froze in shock as you saw him kneeling in front of a bloodied man strapped to a chair, a man you never thought you’d see again. 

“Fuck you, man,” the beaten guy spat, “I ain’t saying shit.” 

A high-pitched, guttural wail erupted throughout the room as Joel twisted the knife logged in the man’s thigh, his body shaking against the tight binds at the excruciating pain. 

“Plum,” Tommy, standing in the corner, gasped, though your eyes didn’t falter their intense stare, didn’t even blink, watching the familiar man cry out as the knife was yanked out. 

Whirling around in horror, Joel straightened up as soon as he saw you, attempting to block the person from your view, “what are you–”

But your hand promptly shot out, successfully warning them to stop talking. With your cold glare still locked on the dazed man, his bruised eyes slowly blinking open to look back at you, a disgusting grin immediately blooming on his bloodied face.  

“As I live and breathe,” he snarled, the thick blood in his throat gurgling his sentence, “the bitch is back…” he scanned you lewdly, swollen eyes panning over your petrified form, “gotta give it to you, slipping out from under our noses in the bustles of the move, that was pretty smart, though we all just assumed you’d been ripped to shreds by a hoard of infected, but I see now that you still can’t be killed. Resilient little cunt, this one is,” he clicked his tongue, “what, have you come back for more? Missed me that much?”

Slowly, your vision never wavering, you turned your palm up before your partner, finally peeling your eyes off the man for but a moment to shoot an icy glance at Joel, wordlessly asking him to give you the knife in his hand, still dripping with crimson.

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea–” the rest of Tommy’s timid words got crushed as you swiftly glared at him as if he was next.

Reluctantly, you eventually felt the weight of the weapon being placed in your open palm. With vile tickling the back of your throat, you slowly stepped closer to the restrained man, your jaw quivering as he continued to speak out of turn. 

“Real shame that you never made it, never got to see Noah’s big plan in person,” it was such a short name, yet such a big wave that crashed into you, “he misses you, by the way,” the man glanced up at you through his stringy blonde hair, clinging to his forehead, the very tips stained red by the blood oozing from his various nasty wounds, “we all miss you…”

Your whole being felt completely numb, almost as if you were dreaming. Never letting your horrified glare falter, you lowered yourself down in front of him, getting on his level and crouching at his bound feet. 

With the knife heavy in your hand, your fingers tightened around the handle as he dared to utter smugly, “yeah, that’s it,” he tried to spread his thighs apart, “you’ve missed your daddy, I can see it…”

Wordlessly, your face still akin to a statue, you grabbed onto two of his grimy fingers and swiftly bent them back forcefully enough for there to sound a nasty crack. The sharp cry he let out didn’t affect you in the slightest as you determinedly straightened the broken fingers back out. Notching the knife right beneath the knuckles, you looked him right in the eye and watched his face contort in agony as the sharp blade sliced clean through his digits, letting them roll onto the floor as he screamed.

Before he could catch his breath, you reached up and sliced one of his cauliflowered ears off, listlessly letting it tumble off and join the severed digits on the floor.

Unexpectedly, amidst all the grunts and groans, the vile man erupted in laughter, throwing his head back as the crimson spewed from his gashes, “that all you got? Come on,” he had the nerve to wink at you, “give me a little sugar, dolly.”

He didn’t deserve to just die. He didn’t deserve that mercy. He deserved to understand. To be broken by the severity of his actions. To live out the rest of his days in agony knowing that no matter what he did, he would never be able to pay for what he had done, simply live in the consequential void of despair.

The bridge of your nose twitched as the tip of the blade sank into his groin, stabbing him repeatedly till your fervent strikes grew sloppy, angling up to his abdomen, and you were out of breath, panting as you watched the life leave his eyes. 

Still completely silent, you stayed there, staring at his lifeless expression, your shoulders heaving with every painful breath. 

Sluggishly, you pulled the weapon out of where it was still lodged in the man’s lower stomach, shakily clutching it in your stained hand as you stood back up. Your knees nearly buckled from under you as you turned for the others to see your pale face, lumbering slowly towards the exit as if they weren’t even there at all. 

As Joel carefully stepped closer to your slow-moving form, he didn’t get to try anything as you swiftly dropped the blood-soaked knife back into his grasp and continued your painful trek out the door, not glancing up at his horrified face for even a moment. 

Breaking the deafening silence, Tommy warily said, “he never told us where they–”

Whirling around, the sharp slap that your numb palm planted across his cheek cut his sentence short, fury still alive in your cold eyes as you stared at your friend, struggling to comprehend that he had actually dared to pull something like this without your knowledge. That both of them had.

As you turned your back on them again, he cautiously continued to speak, “you could have just let us have two seconds with him, we’d still have let you finish him off, if that’s what you wanted to.”

Your voice was hoarse as you finally spoke again, “he would have never told you where they are,” facing the door, you revealed to them, “and besides that, you didn’t need him. I already know where they are.”

“You know?” Tommy gasped, his wide eyes glued on you in surprise, “this whole time you’ve known and haven’t told us?”

“It’s not like you ever asked me,” you uttered through your gritted teeth. Casting your piercing glare upon Joel, you said, “so I’m guessing this is why your patrol shifts suddenly got unusually long, am I right?” 

Barely breathing at all, he answered hesitantly, “…yes.”

“And does Maria even know?”

“Not till a few hours ago,” Tommy huffed out a pained sigh. 

“What the fuck were you thinking? How could you even consider that any of this was something that I’d want? Why on earth did you take it upon yourselves to go out and get revenge?” staring Joel down, you continued, “did you somehow think that it would–, what, improve my sleep at night or just your own? Were you gonna come home one day and just go congratulations, honey! They are all dead! Do you really think that would have helped me or are you truly just incapable of thinking with anything but your fists, getting your hands dirty because of something that has absolutely nothing to do with you?” he averted his gaze as you got up in his face, “I get that you’re invested, that you want them to pay, but this isn’t your choice to make,” your finger poked his chest harshly, “you don’t get to choose for me how or even if I want revenge. I get to choose that, me, not you,” you gave him a heated shove, completely numb to the tears that streamed down your cheeks and muffled your words. With your chest heaving, watching as he didn’t try to close the gap you had forced, you uttered, the exhaustion seeping through your sentence, “things were just starting to get better and then you go and drag me right back into it.”

With your vision still locked on Joel as he just stood there and took it all, Tommy’s voice piped up once more, “plum, just–” 

Cutting him off, you set the record straight, “I’m not telling you.”

“But–”

“No,” you shot him a glare and repeated, “I’m not telling you where they are. This right here,” you motioned between the brothers and ordered, “it stops now. Whatever plan you’ve been cooking up, forget it.”

You lost count of how long, how many days, perhaps weeks, you locked yourself in your house. 

The unanswered knocks Joel’s fist echoed on your front door soon evolved into him stubbornly planting himself out on your pouch each and every day. 

It wasn’t till the day when someone came to supply you with some more food that you finally had to open the door and consequently be forced to face him once again. 

“Plum–,” he sprung up from his seat on the wobbly bench as soon as you creaked the door open. 

You tried not to look at him as you swiftly bent down to snatch up the tupperware. 

“Go away,” you growled wearily. 

But your attempt at slamming the door shut failed as Joel swiftly stuck his solid boot in to block it, “if you would please just let me explain–”

“No,” you finally glared up at him as he pushed himself inside, “just please stop,” briefly turning to set the food down, you then ripped the door back open as he tried to close it behind him, “I don’t wanna hear whatever excuse you have,” you held it open for him to leave, “nothing you can say will ever make me forgive what you’ve done. That’ll never happen,” you sucked in a sharp breath as you blinked back into Joel’s glossy gaze, “I–… I am so mad at you…” your gaze then fluttered shut as your breaths grew unsteady, “so mad that I could easily do some very well deserved, yet regrettable things to you… but I–…” tears rolled down your cheeks as your eyes flickered back open to catch his stare, “I love you,” the phrase caused a rift to crack in your hard shell, “I won’t forgive you, but I still love you.”

With a glint of hope twinkling in his eye, Joel took a step closer to you, though halted as you raised up a palm. 

“But if you ever so much as think about doing something like that again, I’ll cut your fucking balls off.” 

As he then seized the sides of your face, a wistful whimper fell from your lips. Moving slowly, ever so slowly, he simply stared back at you as he inched in closer. 

As soon as he pressed a gentle kiss to your mouth, an entrapped cry forced its way out of your form and even though the sensation was one you longed for, one that already began to mend your festering wound, your palms still found his broad chest and showed him back. 

“You should go,” you uttered, your gaze falling to the floor as your fingers fluttered up to ghost over the fading memory of his peck. 

“Plum–”

Hoping that he hadn’t noticed the already packed rucksack leaning up against the nearby wall, you whispered, “please don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

But he still didn’t move to exit out the open door, only tilted his head with terrified recognition and breathed, “…no,” as the cold air blew in betwixt your frames, “sweetheart, please don’t do what think you’re doing.” 

A low sigh flowed from you as you averted your gaze, incapable of denying his accusation, “Joel–”

“Take me with you,” he demanded, “I won’t just stand here and let the woman that I love go out on a suicide mission on your own.” 

“I–, Joel…” you let out a wobbly whimper, “I don’t trust you enough right now to drag you along. I didn’t even wanna do this, it’s your fault, it was you who plunged me back into it, and now I–…” your words crumbled away as your stare faded out into nothingness, intentionally having to suck in a pained breath and fill up your lungs once more to you rip yourself out of the abyss, just enough to say, “I just want it all to stop…” 

Taking a step closer to you, he uttered, “please,” and caught your palm, begging you to meet his gaze, “let me help you.”

As you stared back into his pleading eyes, you felt your ramped pulse begin to settle down, and not many moments managed to pass by before you opened your mouth once more, only needing the warm touch of his hand and the soothing presence of his gaze to flip your stubborn coin. 

“…they call it Paradise, the place where they moved their group. It’s somewhere down in Arizona…”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble

[hpiiker]

a imagine about having morning sex with hasan in the spooning or a imagine about making a sex tape with would be soooooo 🤭🤭🤭🤭

MORNING SEX WITH HASAN PIKER || HP²⁵ 🍋 ࿔*

:: HPIIKER’S PROFILE || my inbox is open! 📨

:: this for my smutty/all over the place whores !! + welp, with my semi asexual/fluid ass here🧍‍♀️... so hasan is a asshole in this, he's also a cheater, so have that as you will... but he makes it up and it's GOOD. i need hasan all up in my sheet asap 😵‍💫⋆˙⟡

:: THE SONG: all night long by beyoncé ∞ ☼｡𖦹 ° . ⋆

both interweaved like a weaved basket.

legs twisted into each other, arms etched crossed together, the crisp, cooled sheets brushing across your's and hasan's naked bodies uplifting the sexual tension between the arduous, taxing thought of hasan's previous perfidy.

the absolute laborious late nights of hasan trying to reprise your love, trust and respect. the old washed out thoughts of hasan’s careless night betraying the shared marriage you had together. you stared at yourself in the mirror, noticed every flaw, perfection, corner or curve of your body. this raised the infuriating, indignant feeling. fuelling your brain like gasoline to wood, slowly reminding you finding the unknown calls in his call log.

you love the sight, feels and sounds of hasan’s caress. each other’s chests rubbing against up another, hasan’s heavy, broad hands making rounds on the valleys of your breast. hasan slowly passing your hair to fall on your back, all the while making his lips leave a trail of lip prints to the nape of your neck, all the way along the corner of your shoulder.

your's and his body language's were connected... thriving, matter of fact. each other's bodies up against one another, hasan is clearly wanting to do the work for you, keeping you wet and making sure he marks off your checklist. hasan's large, beautiful hands turning in your personal necklace, can he dare to leave his bed a mess and wet?

he can't get with anyone else to like you. the best girl, with the best game all up in his sheets. there's no comparing, no letting other side chicks involved.

our nipples brushing up and down each other's, creating more of a overall sense of high. lips pressing heavily against each other. hasan firmly unraveling your clothes and tossing them across the floor.

his cold fingertips tracing across your back towards your torso, turning the hairs on your body standing up like icicles.

the scent of sex is slowly but surely diluting with the oxygen circulating through the cracked windows. the covered dresser is mixed with the scattered clothes of your’s and hasan’s. he’s completely focused on you, and only you…

every curve and corner of your body is being pushed up upon hasan’s beautiful, muscular chest. hasan is creating a fine line of attention between the distance of your lips towards your pussy. legs, heart rate, and heat are being lifted by hasan’s work upon your body. your body is a work of art. every moan that falls out of your mouth is music to his soul, putting on a spell on that man.

the static feeling of hasan’s beard slowly creeping down your bare chest, between the valley of your breasts, down to your abdomen and finally arriving at your achy, wet pussy. hasan’s mouth is slightly open, curving his tongue up dragging over the clit creating a tight tease, making you grip his black curls more firmly. he’s continues to suck harshly on your clit, every pull of a sucking motion are kicking your legs higher with every orgasm. your back is already arching, clammy hands are gripping tight to the bedsheet, creating crease marks of his work.

his large, heavy hands are massaging your breast, he’s wanting more out of you. hasan changed his mouth to fully embrace your pussy. diving into it, sucking, licking you up.

he slowly bring his hands toward your inner thighs, spreading out your pussy to give you the full satisfaction. no feeling or touch is being left behind. carelessly licking every mark, crevices and pleasure points of your's, he's completely wanting to you to finish the ultimate way.

your back is completely arched, hands are sweating into the harsh grips on his black curls. his tongue drags up, slowly dipping the tip of his tongue into your pussy. hasan decide to swirl his tongue into circles, creating an atmospheric experience. every circles he sends, turns your shivers into a circular motion to have the invisible feel pulling your pussy and hips deeper into the sheets creating a crater of cruising along with hasan's tongue in sync.

every pulse of your pussy fighting against the pleasure, your body is just simply wanting more of. hasan carries on dragging his tounge back up towards your clit, he edges the bottom of your clit slowly pukering his lips into a thick motion of sucking it firmly.

every ounce of a moan weighing out of your mouth cause him to be harder every time. hasan's back shuffles in every direction possibly, reaching to reprise the orginal, default role of a loving husband.

hasan lifts himself off on the foot of the bed, showing off the thick glaze on his hairy chest, his breath is completely wiped out of him. every exhales show his abs flexed and, every inhales tweaks his pecs. hasan is resting his large, stunning hands on top of his head, he huffed out a proud, shit eating laugh.

he's of course getting cocky with how worked up he got you.

"baby, can you handle more rounds?" hasan bring his wet lips up towards your's, wanting to know how you taste along with his fine touches and taste.

every move he does, opening his mouth longer, wet, glossy lips pressed together, licking and kissing each other. hasan's broad hand covers the back of your head, pushing you closer to him. craving every inch of your body, taste and touch even more.

this old feeling was coming back to each other, being held on top of hasan's chest. just like at the start... both interweaved like a weaved basket.

legs twisted into each other, arms etched crossed together, the crisp, cooled sheets brushing across your's and hasan's naked bodies uplifting the jagged tension between the arduous, taxing thought of hasan's previous perfidy.

both relieving the sensations, thoughts and emotions of what this marriage is truly about. "what happens here, stays here. you losing it all was a fucking risk.. yesterday we was breaking up, now we're back here making love... what's understood ain't gotta be explained" while you smirk at him, kissing down his salt and peppered chest, holding deep eye contact.

[kindred-spirit-93]

AHAHHAH FUCK YEAH!! the duality of open arms is so underrated @howmanyholesinswisscheese wouldnt u agree my fren?

Antinous: *pops into the Underworld* What the fuck was that?, did I just get interrupted in the middle of my final note!? *Checks for any obolus and sighs* Great, now I have to wai-

*600 souls appear before him*

Antinous: *jumps back* What the fuck!?

*The 600 souls slightly separate to give Eurylochus and Polites to step through, Polites and Eurylochus give a hateful glare at Antinous*

Eurylochus: Before you ask, I'm Odysseus's former brother-in-law...

Polties: And I'm his best friend...

Antinous: ..... *Immediately dashes for it but remembers he can't go anywhere*

Polties: Brothers *lets out a gleeful grin and cracks his knuckles* let's greet our friend with "open arms"

*A loud amount of painful screams ensue*

[juliet-017]

Reprisal - A.M.

Abraxas Malfoy x Fem!Gryffindor!reader

Minors DNI!

Warnings: cheating!! both parties, slight misogyny, semi-public sex, risk of being caught, Abraxas is like super arrogant (Draco on steroids), marking, choking, implied size kink, oral (both ways), unprotected p in v, creampie (+contraceptive charm)

Synopsis: After your boyfriend, Arcturus Black, cheats on you more times than the hairs you have on your head you decide that you're finally done with him. And what better way to signify that than sleeping with his best friend?

a/n: I needed a fic for the loml Abraxas Malfoy so bad guys so here we are. Thank you @viperify and @neptunemma for helping fuel my Abraxas addiction and for the Malfoy family in general. Anyways I hope you guys enjoy bc if you do I'll write for him more in the future !!

Part 2!!

wc: 2.4k

Arcturus Black has pissed you off for the last time. Sure, he’s rich, his family well known but you can't bring yourself to put up with his bullshit anymore after seeing him kissing a girl whilst fully sober for the… what time is it?

It doesn't matter, she's just some no-name a year younger than the both of you, probably just some stage where he'd get bored and come running back to you. Or were you the stage? A middle finger to his family? A rebellious phase? You weren't thinking black and white on this fine evening, deciding to find a way to get under his skin, finally get back at him after being so submissive to him for so long.

Abraxas Septimus Malfoy. One of the only boys who could even try to match up with any of the Blacks, and the best option too. After all, you heard him run his mouth about all the Gryffindor pussy he's gotten countless times, and whether it was talk or not, it intrigued you enough to force a pursuit.

It doesn't take long to find him in the library, conversing with Riddle. Hovering around a bookshelf you peer at them, trying to find the right timing. Biting the inside of your cheek you retract, tidying your appearance before rounding the corner with a clearing of your throat.

They both silence themselves quickly, Riddle glaring while Abraxas holds a curious gaze. “Abraxas, may I have a word?” You ask, being sure to hold a certain level of poise.

The two look between each other, some sort of silent communication before Tom seemingly dismisses Abraxas, a smug expression on the latters face as he approaches you. He looms over you, causing you to look up at him. “Need something that your little prince can't provide?” He drawls mockingly.

“Fuck off.” You hiss, crossing your arms to pout.

He shakes his head, leaning up against the bookcase with his hands in his pockets. “Careful, sweetheart, don't you know about playing nice?” He purrs, reaching out with a hand to play with a strand of your hair.

You huff, glancing around before speaking up. “I'm done with Black.” The words come suddenly, even shocking yourself. “I've put up with far too much from him.”

He nods, appraising you. “Soo, what does that have to do with me?”

Running your tongue over your teeth, you plan your next word. Mirroring him slightly you tilt your head to the side. “I want to give him a taste of his own medicine.”

“Oh? And by that you mean?” Abraxas asks, his tone haughty as he raises a brow.

“Don't act like you haven't been begging to get into my knickers for months now.” You snap. “Talking about all the Gryffindor girls you bed and how adventurous they are. I'm not stupid.”

“So you aren't as dumb as I thought.”

You open your mouth, agape and about to retort before he cracks one of his rare grins. “I'm only having some fun.”

“Well, I don't appreciate being the butt of a joke. I mean I knew you were an arrogant twat but Merlin-.” Abraxas moves quickly, putting a hand against your neck and running a thumb over your carotid artery.

“Your heart is racing, love.” He states bluntly before reaching down to take your forearm into his grip. “Let's get somewhere a bit more private, hm?” He starts to guide you before you rip your arm free.

“Rumors will be bad enough if I get seen simply walking grounds with you, I'm not letting you guide me around like some pet.” You spat, taking walking beside him.

“You sure you wouldn't like that? You look rather like a meek little kitten on Black’s arm.” He taunts, his signature smirk taking over his face. “Rather pretty when you don't run your mouth.”

“Bastard.” You retort, slowing to a stop.

“At least I know what I'm doing with my cock.” He muses. “You looked ever so disappointed whenever leaving Arcturus’ dorm, was a bloody shame I couldn't have ravished you after every single time.” Crowding you, Abraxas traps you up against a corridor wall. “Your boyfriend on the other hand only has money and his name, nothing that'll make his future wife too fascinated.”

Before you can respond you lurch, feeling yourself be yanked and pulled into the closet room. You gather your surroundings in a bewildered state before Abraxas locks the door, finding yourself in an office.. Dumbledore's office. “What the hell, Malfoy?” You ask abruptly, stumbling back from him.

“You said yourself that you didn't want to be seen with me so I had to think of something quick.” Abraxas responds, taking a hand and running it through your hair. “Gryffindor idiocy will never fail to amuse me.” He hums before closing the small distance. “Now let's put that mouth to better use, huh?”

His other hand cups your jaw, running a thumb over your lips before prompting with his thumb. You comply, letting him slip his thumb into your mouth as you swirl your tongue around it teasingly, looking up at him doe-eyed.

He hums, allowing you to continue before backing you up against the closest wall, his knee finding a place between your thighs. The friction makes you moan, Abraxas takes the opportunity to withdraw his thumb, a small string of saliva connecting the two.

He starts working on your neck, leaving light pecks and nips as he unclasps your cloak before moving to undo your tie.

You roll your hips, lost in the simple sensation of his knee against your clit, falling prey to his simple actions.

He works on the buttons of your blouse whilst continuing the assault on your neck, his hands moving to work on your skirt next, heavy breaths intertwining.

Abraxas undoes the small clasp with ease before helping you out of it, guiding you to kneel without second thought. You comply, sitting back on your heels whilst still in your Mary Jane's alongside your undergarments. Abraxas undoes his belt, letting it hit the floor followed by his trousers.

You can already see him through his boxers, your eyes only growing a tad bit wider as he frees himself, already semi-hard. His hand appears in your face, “Spit.”, he commands firmly. You do so, watching him stroke his length as he continues to harden.

He taps his tip against your throat, having you open your mouth as he slowly pushes himself down your throat. “C’mon, you can take more than that, just relax.” He purrs as he practically pets you, pulling your hair into a makeshift pony as he pulls you back, allowing you to breathe before pushing his length back down your throat.

Being more prepared this time, you're able to relax your jaw alongside your throat and let him practically bottom out. He drags himself in and out of your mouth, using your hair as a guide whilst making you match him, his other hand bracing himself against the wall as he looks down and watches.

You moan around him, gagging slightly as you try to take him deeper even with your lack of control in the situation.

“Merlin, it's like you were made to suck cock.” He moans, stuttering a bit in his thrusts as you run your tongue over his cock the best you can. Buried deep inside you he stills, twitching and grinding slightly before he explodes.

Abraxas pulls out slightly, enough so you can swallow, looking up at him with watery eyes as you cough and catch your breath.

Next thing you know he takes your hands, helping you up, enjoying the sight as you rush to finish stripping. Abraxas follows suit, laying himself bare before commanding you to jump, supporting you with your legs and arms wrapped around him.

He pushes you against the wall for starts, working on marking up the other side of your neck, humming. “How about Dumble’s desk? Most action old man's probably going to get, huh?”

Barely waiting for your nod, Abraxas carries you over to the desk, his muscles from Quidditch on full display. And you find yourself unable to tear your eyes away, trying to ignore how the sight alone makes you even more wet. He sets you on the edge of the Deputy headmaster's desk, just enough for some extra support.

Digging your nails into his bare shoulder blades, trusting him and Dumbledore’s desk to hold you up whilst your legs are wrapped around his waist as he teases your drenched cunt. Running himself between your folds a few times, he pushes in slowly, taking his time as if he had waited for this for ages.

“I wish I could've taken you in my dorm.” He pants, almost animalistic as he pounds into you. “Imagine all the things I could've done to you there.”

He wraps a hand around your throat, squeezing enough to make you already feel hazy. “Can't believe Arc gave you up,” he growls into your ear. “Best pussy I've had in ages.”

You let out a moan, your back arching in pleasure as your eyes flutter in pleasure. “Really? That's pathetic.” You spat out, clinging onto any fight you have despite being fucked out of your mind.

“Still running that mouth, are you?” Abraxas retorts the rhetorical question, taking his free hand to draw circles on your clit. “I guess I didn't fuck it hard enough.” He growls, thrusting harder as if to emphasize his point.

You make a guttural sound, scratching at his back as if searching for something to anchor yourself on. “There ya go, that's a good slut.” He groans into your ear, lashes fluttering in pleasure.

You rock your hips, trying to match his pace, silent moans leaving you as you feel your climax approaching.

“Fuck, I'm so close-” You whimper, digging your nails in even deeper.

“Come on, just let go.” He mutters, thrusting into you faster.

You wrap your legs around him further, biting into his shoulder to silence your moans as you fall apart, eyes rolling back slightly as you let go. You slump against him after letting out a loud moan, your forehead falling against his shoulder.

You feel him fuck you through your orgasm, overstimulating you slightly before he stills, spilling inside of you. The two of you stay semi-intertwined for a few minutes, catching breaths and cooling down. Part of you wants to chastise him for cumming inside of you, watching him slowly pull out.

Abraxas gathers the pile of clothing the two of you discarded, setting it right next to you before he pulls out his boxers in order to start dressing. In the midst of it, he picks up his wand, murmuring a contraceptive charm.

You stay sat on the desk, a bit surprised at his actions but hiding it as you start to dress yourself, clasping your bra and starting to button up your blouse, Abraxas working on his own dressing.

“Can't wait to tell everyone how I stole Black’s bitch.”

You let out a laugh, pausing in your rush to get dressed to look over at him. “You did not just say that.”

“What? It's true.” He replies, his words laced with arrogance.

“No, it's not you pussywhipped twat. I pursued you after I was done with his shit.”

“You still picked up on the clues.” He continues to taunt.

You raise your hand to slap him but he catches your wrist. “See this is why I tolerate Gryffindors.. so feisty.” He hums, allowing you to free your wrist. “Now you see I might actually be tempted to fuck you again, unlike half your housemates.. they're not so up to par.”

“Oh really?”

“Mhmmm, and trust me, I don't do charity.”

“Oh fuck you.”

“Just did.” He replies cockily.

“Let's put that mouth to better use, yeah?” You retort mocking his earlier words with a roll of your eyes as you grab his half-done tie, pulling him down as far as he allows.

He smirks, ripping your blouse open before kneeling at the edge of the desk. He pushes you to lean back on your elbows, hooking your knees over his shoulder as he leaves small kisses and nips up your inner thigh.

He teases you, stopping right before where you need him most, letting out slow and labored breaths as you whine in desperation.

Starting with one lick between your folds, Abraxas buried his face, lapping at your pussy like a starved man.

You quickly dig a hand into his scalp, pulling at his hair as you moan loudly. You didn't actually expect him to do this, from what you were told no ‘respectable man’ would ever be willing to do this. Your thoughts were cut off when he hummed around your clit.

He went back to licking, rutting his nose against your clit before deciding to alternate between the two, making the experience drag on in the most pleasurable way.

“You taste divine.” Abraxas mutters against your soaked folds. You groan, trying to rut against his nose slightly as you feel heat cook in the bottom of your stomach once more. Reaching a hand under your bra; Abraxas fiddles with a nipple, squeezing your tit before pinching your nipple.

He does the same with the other, taking his free hand now to fiddle with your clit. You pull at his hair once more before your loud moan echoes around the office, causing you to slack on the desk as you catch your breath.

“I think the scores are pretty even now, don't you, darling?” He taunts as he pulls back, catching his breath as well before he gets up to his feet, helping you stand and sluggishly getting dressed.

He helps you off the desk once both of you are dressed, utterly spent as you two make it to the office door. Abraxas peers around the edges before slipping out and pulling you behind him by the hand.

“That was..” You start, a small giggle escaping you.

“Outstanding? Mind-blowing? Earth-shattering?” Abraxas replies, arrogance already back on his tongue.

“Well, I was going to say nice. It was.. good.” You decide with a small nod.

“Well if you ever need a nice time again, you know where to find me.” He replies, bringing your hand to his lips and leaving a light peck on your knuckles before going his own way.

[killishin]

— ☆ meet me under the moonlight.

PART 01.

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

content warning: mentions of blood, death, alcohol, yuji did not eat the finger he's a normal jujutsu student, afab reader, mentions of depression, reader is a special grade sorcerer a badass heh, suggestive themes, no smut, second chance trope, shit ton of fluff and an attempt at comedy, some angst here and there

summary: reader's a special grade sorcerer. after losing your sister, you needed someone, you needed satoru. but he wasn't there. things did not end on good terms with him, your ex, before you moved overseas. reader is dead set on avoiding satoru while he just wants you back, no matter what.

a/n: I'll add the content warnings as we proceed. this is the first full fledged fic im working on and its been almost a year since i wrote anything so bear with any mistakes. currently busy with exams so expect updates to be slow. for those who know hindi, was listening to this while writing. it did match the vibe i am going for.

word count: 2.6k

dividers by @cafekitsune

masterlist. fic masterlist. next

nostalgia's a bitch.

a deep sigh leaves your lips, head tilted upwards while your eyes fluttered close. you tried to stop the onslaught of memories, some sweet while some... you'd rather never revisit. but they always haunt you, coming back to jujutsu high didn't necessarily trigger them.

and then there's him. occupying a whole place in your mind and though most were sweet, except that one memory that overshadowed all. that made you want to walk away from here right now and not even spare a glance back. you didn't know if your heart tingled or your mind raged with the very high possibility of seeing him again. you decided not to dwell on that.

some may call it rather childish to still hold onto a grudge even after a decade but you cannot find it in you to forget. though you convinced yourself to be cordial if— when the time comes.

"are you done moping or do you still wanna have your moment?" shoko called out dryly from behind you, and though you couldn't see her the amusement was clear as day in her voice. you could just sense that smirk growing on her lips.

"nice seeing you again too." you chuckled out with a resigned huff, removing your hands from your pocket as you opened your eyes and turned around to look at her.

it was truly nice seeing her again, it wasn't like you guys never talked, you did keep contact and text whenever possible. she looked more hot, somehow the bags under her eyes only grew darker but it all added to her laid back charm.

her lips tugged into a more softened smile and she tilted her head, the wind blowing both your hair. "missed having you around here. you still look the same."

though she said it sarcastically, her heart was a bit a mushy, she was more happy than she was letting on. she pushed off the wall and approached you, swinging an arm around your shoulder as she hugged you, patting your back.

"this place turned you into a softie." you murmured as you hugged her back, not being able to bite back the smile on your face. maybe you were fretting over nothing, it can't be that bad—

"hm though not as much as satoru for you." she teased and you grunted with a roll of your eyes, pulling away immediately.

"alright alright get off."

your lips pulled into that frown that always seemed to be etched on your face since adulthood started.

"still stingy i see." she remarked amusingly with a raised brow before walking in the gates. your steps hesitated, lips pulling into a grimace as your eyes looked at that gates, that suddenly seemed so daunting. murmuring a 'fuck it' you sauntered behind her.

"im not stingy." you retorted, eyes wandering around as you shoved your hands back in the pockets of your trouser. everything was more or less the same, the depressing aura that could never be concealed by the sounds of innocent laughter of the students here.

students. you looked back at shoko with a raised brow, "how many kids are here?" you asked, though you already knew how many, and had an almost vague idea of who they were. and then there's megumi, who you only saw a handful times before leaving yet had formed quite a bond with. you wonder how much that grumpy (yet sweet) kid has grown.

shoko's brows furrowed a bit, as if racking her mind for it. "there's three kids in the second year, three in the first years." she replied, glancing at you, as if already knowing what you were thinking. "megumi's one of them. he's grown...well i guess. still a grump."

you simply nodded at that, eyes softening as you looked down. you wished for the kids to have a normal life, yeah its not that feasible being in the sorcerer's world but still, you wished for them to have a much more normal-er life than what you had.

"satoru raised him well. don't tell him that though, his ego is big enough as it is." shoko snickered, shaking her head and you scoffed.

"like I'd wanna." you muttered under your breathe before looking up, pushing your glasses up you stared at the door before you. yaga's office.

shoko patted your back before she started to walk away, "again, welcome back. hope this shithole doesn't burn you out again." she called out, disappearing as she turned around the corner, leaving you to your silence.

you sighed, looking down at your heels as you rubbed your forehead in annoyance. you pulled at the neck of your turtlneck, feeling the regret creeping back up. before you know it, your mind was already brimming with overbearing thoughts and doubts. should you really have come back? was it right to come back?

and then your hand dropped to that silver pendent on your chest, the one that had your late sister's picture, twisting it in between your fingers. and somehow your mind calmed down, not by much but enough to pull your shit together.

you had to come back.

you walked out his office, closing the door behind, your hand griped the doorknob as you leaned your weight on one leg and rested a hand on your hip. you didn't think your day could get any worse.

you thought your only job would be to take on missions or maybe to supervise those less experienced than you, as it was overseas. you did not expect to be made into a part time babysitter. Yaga called it imparting important knowledge and experience to the students but it was all bullshit to your ears.

you had argued that you were not a teacher here and refrained almost immediately, not just its an extra hassle but because Satoru is their teacher. you would bump into him often as it is, you didn't want it to become a daily thing. but that damned old man is too good with his words, trapped her right in them, using her morals and fondness for kids against her.

"fucking hell.." you muttered as you started walking away but paused as you heard the sound of voices coming from somewhere. it wasn't just voices, there were grunts and yelling, clashing of metals and woods.

immediately clocking the energy you turned around and started walking towards the sound, recognising it leads to the ground. as you walked closer and closer, the blurred faces started becoming clearer. and you recognised the spiky hair among them.

your steps slowed to a stop at the edge of the steps leading down, staring at the students engaged in a duel. your arms folded across your chest while a smile tugged on your lips.

you couldn't help the fondness weasling its way into your heart as you observed megumi in a one sided fight, clearly the glasses girl was stronger, you recognised her as the zen'in girl. yet he was holding his own against her, as much he could, his lips pulled into a deeper frown.

your eyes strayed from them to the other kids around. you observed them all, cheering with such passion and smiles. it was endearing, a moment where the harsh reality doesn't seem as depressing. to your utter dismay, the pink haired boy though had taken notice of you, his head tilted innocently as he stared at you in wonder.

though the kid seemed harmless you were suddenly overcome by nervousness. great, nervous over meeting a bunch of kids? you're almost thirty for fucks sake!

you cleared your throat, about to walk down to introduce yourself to him and the kids when the kid suddenly grinned, grinned so bright you thought you'd turn blind. your brows furrowed in confusion before you noticed he is not grinning at you.

...wait how'd you not notice—

"there you are." came his voice from behind you, still that same annoying cheery voice and despite how much it made your annoyance spike, you hated how it still made your heart skip a beat, made your neck grow warmer while your mind went absolute radio silent.

and though it seemed like he said that to his student down below, you didn't need to look behind to know just where his eyes were at.

heaving a deep sigh you looked back, and there he is alright, still towering over you, confidence oozing out of him like he owned the goddamn world. those white hair still looked soft enough, like they always were— nope. not going there.

you spared him a withering glance before looking back at the students, perfectly hiding how you clenched your fists, how suddenly they clamed up. and just your unfortunate luck, the students had stopped and now all of them were staring at you. just great.

as if already sensing your ire his smirk widened as he stood beside you, his head tilted down and what the hell is up with that stupid blindfold?

"not even a hi? im wounded." he teased, lips pulling into a toothy grin and you felt a shiver run down your spine suddenly as if he just checked you out. you glared at him upon the realisation and but it just simply made that cheeky smile widen.

you looked at the kids and tried to offer a smile though you're sure it came out half hearted, fueling your embarrassment. you told them your name but before you could continue he cut in, waving at them in an over enthusiatic manner. "this pretty women here is a special grade sorcerer. don't worry not stronger than me—"

you glare.

"— but she would also be helping you and supervising you during your missions. don't worry she just looks daunting, she don't bite. well maybe a little—"

you glare harder.

"— we go wayyy back. friends and students here at the same place. though i suppose 'friends' is an understatement, lovers maybe—"

"gojo!" you cut him off, glaring daggers at him but like always, he simply laughed. but it wasn't funny to you, you found that decade old anger coming back and this little interaction simply fortified your misgivings about him.

clenching your jaw you held back your tongue, not wanting to embarrass yourself further. taking a deep breath you looked back at the kids, forcing your features to soften but not bothering with a smile.

"its nice to meet you all. please continue." was all you said, rather curtly which wasn't quite intended, before turning around and storming away from there. you didn't miss the absolute confusion on everyone's face yet you were far too swamped in your annoyance and embarrassment to care.

you could hear him dismissing the students before following behind you, leisure steps, no hurry, since his long strides help him catch up to your hurrying legs with ease. he swiftly cuts in your path, standing infront of you with his hands resting casually in his pockets.

"a little rude wasn't it? what would the kids think?" he teasingly murmured, bending down almost condescendingly, broad shoulders simply making you feel cornered.

you scoffed, looking at him incredulously. the absolute gall of this man. "rude? me?" you crossed your arms across your chest in defiance, "what the hell were you spouting back there? seriously gojo all these years and you didn't change—"

"satoru." he interrupted, his voice low and almost velvety, and though he wore a casual smile you couldn't help but feel a bit of irritation in it. "not gojo. satoru. we aren't strangers, sweetheart."

your eyes narrowed almost accusingly, hands twitching as if to smack him. "we aren't anything either."

"not even friends?"

"no."

"now thats a lie. friends know everything about each other." he said, almost dramatically before he bent down a bit as if to intimidate you by his stature, like that ever worked. and yet the closeness seemed to get to her, her eyes that were ablaze in irritation wavered just a fraction and nothing escapes the six eyes.

"and i know everything about you." he murmured and it was if the words died in your throat. the sheer weight of his words, the hidden longing in his voice that maybe you're imagining, the memories it brought back that you'd rather just bury.

no you don't. its been a decade satoru, you know nothing of me. so much to say and yet—

"fuck you." a pitiful attempt of a comeback, and you hated yourself for it. you hated how you were right now, emotions going haywire while your mind blanked at just his voice and you have yet to see those damn eyes. you had prided herself in how calm you'd become, how you had held herself together no matter what, how you didn't let anyone waver your emotions much less mess with your heart— and yet, here you are. acting out, losing your shit and why?

him. its always him.

his lips tug upwards, pride and satisfaction. like he knows your inner turmoil and it simply twisted that feeling of dread and regret even more. you thought he might poke fun at you again, tease but he leaned back and for once you were grateful because you can finally breathe. you looked away as you fixed your glasses, discreetly taking a deep breathe.

"the glasses just make you look hotter. suits you." he remarked amusingly, voice dripping with sin and honey. you looked back at him, you could almost feel his eyes roaming over your face. its hard to analyse him because of that stupid blindfold.

"that blindfold makes you look stupid." you bite back, frowning a bit as your eyes narrowed before huffing out a breathe. "but i guess its a blessing in disguise." now you're just being a hater, again you fail to care about that. you just wanna leave, away from him. somewhere, anywhere, before you act more like an idiot.

he didn't mind that jab one bit, instead, feigned a dramatic gasp, hand on the chest all that. "you loved my eyes."

"tastes change. people change."

"and you think you have?" he scoffed out and again, you were at a loss for words. you wanted to argue back, shoot a fitting reply, you know you can. but the conviction in his voice when he asked that, like he knows you better than you do yourself.

no he doesn't.

"yes. yes I have." you replied quietly, yet firmly staring at him right in the eyes. his smile didn't falter didn't one bit, or so you think.

"now if you'll stop bothering me." you gave him a pointed look before walking away and this time, to your relief, he didn't follow.

and unknown to you, his eyes stayed stuck to you until you disappeared and yet his senses clung to you. little did you know how fast his heart dropped when he had seen you standing there looking over at the students, looking just the same yet so much more beautiful that it hurts. little did your eyes observe how his smile softened when you weren't looking, not like you could see anyway, how his eyes behind the blindfold held none of that mirth, only longing. how much his hands twitched to just have a touch, a simple swipe of your cheeks. its embarrassing how silly he's acting, nobody would believe that he, of all, could act so lovesick. he was still in denial about the extent of his longing, the extent of yearning but he knew one thing.

now that you're here he can't lose you again.

its a weird feeling, this need— this want that he feels in his damn bones whenever he merely even thinks about you. he was okay all these years, a bit guilty but he has a lot of shit to be guilty for. it all blurred as the years passed. but one look at you and he fell down the rabbit hole again. he'll grovel, he'll do whatever.

he just needs you back.

reblogs are appreciated ♡

[supernotnatural2005]

'Happy Accidents'

Pairing: Dean x Plus!sized Reader

Summary: You haven't seen the Winchester's in over a year, but the case you're working has you scratching your head, and who better to call than some old friends. However, insecurities arise as well as the reprise of a long time crush. Little do you know, it's reciprocated.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings/tags: Dry humping! (18+Only), fluff, mutual pinning, Plus!sized Reader, body insecurities, curvy girl appreciation, swearing.

AN: Okay so this is my first time writing for a more specific reader body type, but being a curvy-girl myself it was interesting to implement it into a story. And with Dean being the appreciator? Yes please! 😍 I know this might not cater to all of you, but I'm inclusive to all y'all ❤️ Also taking some inspo from @bejeweledinterludes post for this one and @zepskies Midnight Espresso series, which is honestly one of my favourite series and stories featuring a Plus!sized reader!! I do hope you guys like this one! 💕

Main Masterlist

You hadn’t seen the Winchesters in over a year.

Not since that hunt in Nebraska—the one that went sideways fast. The one that left you with a busted-up ankle and Dean with a fresh scar along his jawline. The one where, after all was said and done, you parted ways with an easy “See you around,” never expecting “around” to take this long to come back.

But when a case cropped up—one that twisted your gut with unease—you hadn’t hesitated. You picked up the phone and called the only people you trusted to have your back. If anyone could help, it was them.

And now, sitting in a dimly lit bar, waiting for them to arrive, your nerves were shot. Maybe it was the case. Or maybe it was the fact that you’d changed since they last saw you—since he last saw you.

That old, ridiculous crush on Dean Winchester hadn’t gone anywhere. That much had become painfully clear the moment he picked up the phone, his voice as deep, gravelly, and cocky as ever. But now, with time apart and the weight of your own insecurities pressing down, the idea of seeing him again made your stomach twist.

You had always been curvier, carrying stubborn weight around your thighs, ass, and middle. But in the last year, you’d softened even more. Life had been quieter, with less running and fewer adrenaline-fuelled hunts. You were still strong, still capable, but you felt different. And you knew the type of women Dean gravitated toward—tall, slim, easy.

You were none of those things, and you never would be. And that was okay. But it was a niggling fact that had always lingered in the back of your mind, that had stung each time the three of you got together and you watched him charm someone else. Someone who wasn’t you.

A warm, unexpected hand on your shoulder brings you out of your darker thoughts, with a slight gasp, startling you a little.

“Easy there, sweetheart.”

You turned, heart stuttering as Dean stood there, grinning down at you like no time had passed at all. And damn it all, he looked the same—scruffy and stupidly handsome in that effortless way of his, jeans snug on his hips, flannel worn open over a snug black tee. Sam stood just behind him, offering you a softer, more knowing smile.

“Hey, boys,” you manage, hoping the warmth creeping up your neck isn’t as obvious as it feels. You slip off the barstool, nerves buzzing, but force yourself to keep it together.

Dean’s eyes flick over you—quick, but thorough. For a split second, something unreadable flashes across his face, but it’s gone before you can place it.

“Missed us that bad, huh?” His smirk is pure Dean, cocky and teasing, slipping back into the easy rhythm of your old banter.

You roll your eyes, but are grateful for it. “Don’t flatter yourself, Winchester.”

But your voice is softer than you mean it to be, and when you turn to Sam, pulling him into a warm hug first, you feel Dean’s gaze linger.

Then you step up to him, hesitation curling in your chest—but before you can overthink it, his arms are around you, solid and warm, pulling you close like no time has passed at all.

That familiar scent—woody, spiced, edged with leather—wraps around you, grounding you, unraveling you. For a second longer than necessary, you let yourself sink into it, just this once.

The three of you settled into a booth once the bartender set down your drinks. Sam took the seat across from you, while Dean slid in next to you, his presence a little too warm, a little too distracting.

“So,” Sam started, taking a sip of his beer. “What are we looking at?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “A few people have gone missing over the last month—no bodies, no traces, just… gone. I’ve ruled out everything I know of. There’s no signs of a struggle, no sulphur, no EMF spikes. It’s like they just vanished into thin air.”

Dean frowned, brows knitting together. “And no patterns? No connection between them?”

“None that I could find.” You shook your head. “That’s why I called you guys. I was hoping fresh eyes might help.”

Sam exchanged a glance with Dean, both equally puzzled but already slipping into hunter mode.

“Well, we’re here now,” Sam said, ever the problem solver. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah,” you exhaled, feeling some of the weight lift. “We’ll go over everything in more detail tomorrow. Tonight…” You glanced between them, the tension of the case momentarily fading. “It’s just good to see you both.”

“Yeah, it is,” Sam agreed warmly, raising his bottle. “To old friends.”

You clinked beers with him, and Dean followed suit, but as your bottles met, his eyes locked onto yours. There was something there—something lingering, unreadable, sending a flicker of warmth through you. But just as quickly as it came, it was gone, masked behind an easy sip of his beer. You swallowed, shaking it off as nothing more than a trick of your mind.

The more the beers flowed, the easier it got. You caught up, swapped stories, and fell into familiar rhythms.

Dean was as quick with his smart-ass remarks as ever, and the two of you naturally fell into your usual back-and-forth. Sam, as always, was the long-suffering audience to your antics.

At one point, you and Dean tag-teamed a particularly brutal roast of Sam—this time about the time he’d gotten sick on a case and tried to insist he was totally fine, only to end up passing out face-first into a hotel’s continental breakfast buffet.

“Oh, come on,” Sam groaned, shaking his head as you and Dean laughed. “That was years ago.”

“And yet,” you grinned, “I can still hear the sound of your face hitting that tray of scrambled eggs.”

Dean snorted, nudging his knee against yours under the table. “Dude, you took out the whole table. That poor old lady thought you died.”

Sam huffed, rolling his eyes as he pushed his beer away. “Yeah, and that’s my cue. I’ve had enough of you two for one night.”

You laughed, but before you could say anything, Sam stood, shaking his head. “I’ll see you both in the morning.” He pulled you into a quick, brotherly hug, and you squeezed back.

“Night, Sammy,” you murmured, watching as he strode toward the door, leaving you alone with Dean.

You half-expected him to call it a night too, but instead, Dean didn’t move. If anything, the second Sam walked out, he seemed to settle in more, arm stretching along the back of the booth, fingers barely grazing your shoulder. The casual touch sent a ripple of awareness through you, but you forced yourself to act normal, reaching for your drink instead of acknowledging the way your heart had picked up speed.

“I think I’ll stick around a little longer,” he said casually, surprising you.

Your heart kicked up a notch, but you welcomed the company. “Yeah?”

Dean smirked. “Yeah. We got a lot of catching up to do.”

And so you did. The conversation flowed effortlessly, laughter slipping in between shared memories and stories of the road. Some cases were so bizarre they barely seemed real, and a few had you nearly crying with laughter. Time seemed to pass in a blink of an eye, the bar thinning out around you, and you barely noticed.

At some point, Dean just sat back and looked at you. Really looked at you. His expression softened, head tilting slightly as he took you in, his green eyes flickering with something unreadable. Then, he shook his head and muttered, “Damn, it’s really good to see you.”

The sincerity in his voice knocked the breath from your lungs.

Your lips parted, a response on the tip of your tongue, but nothing came out.

Dean huffed a small laugh, eyes still studying you like he was committing you to memory. “You look good, too.”

The words weren’t rushed, weren’t casual or offhanded. They were steady, like a thought he’d been holding onto for a while.

Heat crept up your neck, and you let out a small, nervous chuckle, dropping your gaze to your drink as you toyed with the condensation on the glass. “Yeah, okay.”

Dean shifted, leaning in just a little, enough that the space between you felt smaller, more intimate. “I mean it,” he said, quieter this time, voice dipping low.

All you could think was; what the hell is happening here?

Dean had never been like this with you before. Sure, he flirted—it was second nature to him—but not like this. At least that’s what you’d always believed. Had you just never noticed? Had you missed the way he looked at you before? Or had something changed?

Swallowing, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, only to find his eyes sweeping over you—slow, deliberate. No hesitation. No teasing. Just appreciation.

His gaze flickered to your lips.

The air felt heavy, charged with something unspoken, something you weren’t sure you were ready for, but part of you wanted to reach for it anyway.

Then—

“Last call!”

The bartender’s voice rang out, cutting through the tension like a blade.

You exhaled sharply, the moment shattering as you snapped back to reality. A part of you wanted to stay frozen in it, let whatever this was between you and Dean unravel, but instead, you reached for the safest thing to say. "We should head back."

Dean nodded, standing with you, hands shoving into his jacket pockets. But even as you stepped out into the crisp night air, the tension didn’t fade. If anything, it followed you like a shadow.

The walk back to the motel was quiet, save for the distant hum of traffic and the crunch of gravel under your boots. The air was cool, a sharp contrast to the heat still thrumming under your skin. You kept sneaking glances at Dean, only to find him already looking at you, eyes dark, thoughtful, unreadable.

He was close—not touching, but his presence was all-consuming. The scent of leather and whiskey clung to him, mixing with the crisp night air, making your stomach twist with anticipation.

When you finally reached your door, you hesitated.

"Well… this is me," you said, voice coming out lighter than you intended, a small, nervous chuckle slipping past your lips.

Dean huffed a quiet laugh, his lips curling into a slow, knowing smile as he looked down at you. "Yeah."

But neither of you moved.

The air shifted again, crackling with something dangerous, something inevitable.

Dean’s gaze flickered lower—tracing the curve of your mouth, watching as you unconsciously pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. His pupils dilated. His breath hitched and something in his expression darkened.

"Fuck it."

The words barely left his lips before he was on you, crashing into you with a hunger that sent you stumbling back against the door. The force of it stole your breath, his mouth devouring yours, needy, desperate, like he’d been holding himself back for years and finally gave in.

A muffled sound of surprise left you, swallowed instantly by his lips, but it only took a second before you melted into him, your fingers fisting the open lapels of his jacket, anchoring yourself against him.

It was hot and messy, all teeth and tongue, the kind of kiss that left you lightheaded and aching. His hands were everywhere—gripping, pulling, claiming—sliding over your hips, your back, fingers digging into your flesh like he never wanted to let go.

You fumbled for the door behind you, barely registering how you managed to get it open before tugging him inside.

Dean groaned against your mouth as the door clicked shut, his hands already working your jacket off your shoulders. "You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this," he murmured against your lips, voice rough, breathless.

Your stomach flipped, your heart fluttering at the implication—the confirmation that this wasn’t just heat-of-the-moment lust. This was Dean. Wanting you. For who knew how long.

A moan slipped past your lips in response because forming actual words wasn’t an option—not with his hands gripping you tighter, not with the way he was kissing you like he was starving.

You barely noticed when you reached the little loveseat, your room provided, until the back of his knees hit it. Taking advantage of his momentary imbalance, you shoved him down onto it and climbed into his lap.

Dean groaned, head tipping back slightly as his hands found your hips, gripping tight. Touching you like he’d always wanted to. His fingers dug into the soft curve of your thighs, your ass, holding you like he couldn’t get enough.

You stiffened for half a second. The way his hands moulded to your body, the way he held you there so easily—so greedily—made your head spin.

You’d spent years second-guessing what guys thought when they touched you, wondering if they found you too much, too soft in places you’d been taught to shrink. The idea of straddling Dean, of all people, should’ve sent a jolt of insecurity through you. Should’ve had you hesitating.

But then Dean’s hands tightened—fingers pressing into your thighs, squeezing like he couldn’t stand not to have you closer. A deep, rough sound rumbled from his chest, his lips breaking from yours just long enough to groan, "Jesus—fuck."

The way he said it sent fire straight to your core.

He wanted you like this. Craved it. He wasn’t just tolerating the way your body pressed against him—he was obsessed with it.

As if to prove the point, his grip turned bruising, his hands dragging you even closer, pulling you down into him, despite the small part of you that feared you might be too much.

Dean grunted, his head dropping forward slightly, his forehead pressing to yours. "Goddamn, sweetheart."

A rush of confidence flooded through you, drowning out every lingering doubt.

And then you moved.

You rolled your hips, testing, teasing—just enough to feel the hard, undeniable evidence of how much he wanted this. Wanted you.

The friction was incredible, sending a bolt of pleasure up your spine, making you bite back a moan.

Dean’s breath hitched. His fingers dug into your flesh, his entire body going rigid.

That only made you do it again. Slower this time, deeper.

Dean sucked in a sharp breath, his hands twitching on your thighs like he was trying to keep himself together.

"Fuck—" His voice was raw, strangled, almost pained.

You could feel him trembling beneath you, every muscle coiled tight as you ground against him, feeling the delicious pressure between you, the way his cock strained beneath his jeans, thick and hot against you.

Suddenly, his hands snapped up to your waist, gripping hard, stilling you.

You barely had a second to register it before—

Dean shuddered. His whole body tensed beneath you, a choked grunt ripping from his throat as his fingers dug into your flesh, his head tipping back against the couch.

He went still, and it took you a second to realise.

Dean Winchester had just cum in his jeans.

A rush of heat flooded his face, his expression shifting from shock to pure horror. He blinked up at you, wide-eyed, mortified.

"Oh, fuck." His voice was barely above a whisper, his hands still gripping your hips, as if he was trying to process what the hell had just happened.

Your lips parted in surprise. Then—a slow, wicked grin spread across your face.

"Did you just—?"

Dean groaned, head dropping back against the couch, squeezing his eyes shut. "Don’t. Just—don’t."

But you couldn’t help it. Because holy shit.

You’d just made Dean Winchester cum in his jeans.

If that wasn’t the biggest ego boost of your life, you didn’t know what was.

Leaning down, you pressed a lingering kiss to his jaw, then his cheek, then the corner of his mouth, revelling in the way his breath stuttered. "That," you murmured, lips brushing against his ear, "is the best compliment I’ve ever gotten."

Dean exhaled sharply, shaking his head, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he melted under your touch, his hands hesitantly sliding up your sides, gripping your waist like he needed to anchor himself. When he finally looked up at you, the humiliation still lingered, but something warmer, something softer, began to take its place.

His green eyes flickered over your face like he was memorising you. His throat bobbed with a swallow. Then, suddenly, he let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head.

"God, I’m sorry," he huffed, running a hand down his face, still half-stunned. "You’re just—" His eyes swept over you, dark and reverent as his hands followed, tracing over the curve of your hips, the swell of your full breasts, the thickness of your thighs. His fingers flexed, like he couldn’t get enough, like he needed to feel every inch of you to believe this was real. "Fucking gorgeous."

Heat rushed to your face, your stomach flipping as you instinctively tried to shy away. But Dean was already there, his thumb pressing lightly under your chin, tilting your face back toward him.

"Hey," he murmured, his lips twitching into something wicked and sweet all at once. "Give me five minutes," his hands slid around the curve of your hips, then lower, grasping large handfuls of your ass, his fingers digging in like he couldn't help himself. He groaned, low and deep, pressing you closer, like he needed you to feel just how much he meant it. "And I’ll really show you how much I want you."

Your own lips curled, mirroring his. "Five minutes, huh?" You couldn’t help but hum as he kissed along the column of your throat, his lips soft and warm, his teeth grazing, sending a shiver down your spine.

His grip on you tightened, kneading the flesh beneath his hands, and another groan rumbled through his chest, when you shifted in his lap again and you felt the unmistakable twitch of him against you.

"Okay, make that two," he muttered, his voice rough with renewed hunger.

You laughed, and he grinned against your skin at the sound, before pulling you in and claiming your lips in a hot, deep kiss once more.

“Besides,” he mumbled between kisses, “I wanna sample the goods first, anyway.”

You rolled your eyes, about to retort, but then you squealed as he abruptly lifted you into his arms, carrying you over to the bed like you weighed nothing. With a playful smirk, he dropped you onto the mattress unceremoniously, making you bounce with a giggle.

Dean climbed in after you, hovering over you, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, his expression turning unexpectedly tender. "You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this," he admitted, voice quieter now, raw and honest.

Your heart fluttered.

"Then show me," you whispered.

And as his lips met yours again, slow and deep, Dean swore he’d take his damn time proving just how much he did.

AN: So this just popped into my mind, I hadn't planned on posting, but had to get it out 😅. I know this doesn't cater to everyone it's a little more reader specific, but, it's just another reason to love Dean! 😍

If you would like to be tagged in my future works please respond to this >form< so I can add you to the character's you'd like 😊

Dean Winchester Tag List:

@bettystonewell , @nancymcl , @happyfxckinghorrors , @ambiguous-avery @jollyhunter @tbgfvfdcb @crooked-haven @chevroletdean @paganvamp @stoneyggirl2 @deans-baby-momma @spnaquakindgdom @ladykitana90 @lyarr24 , @impala67rollingthroughtown @jackles010378 @riteofpassage77 @spnaquakindgdom @cevansbaby-dove @shadysoulangel @piptoost @star-yawnznn @deansimpalababy @megara0224 @hobby27 @idontwannabehere7 @maddie0101 @kr804573 @shadysoulangel @mrs-nesmith @zepskies @ohheyguyss @suckitands33 @ultimatecin73 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @arcannaa @aylacavebear @bobbdylann @jaredpadonlyyyy @waynes-multiverse @impala67stellawinchester @youroldfashioned @bonbonnie88 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing

[wolfnight2012]

Oh no, I saw some lovely fanart by @greydoesthearts (check it out!) & I realized there's a possibility I failed to consider!

I've talked about how much Polites is referenced in the musical/affects Odysseus.

I've talked about how much Telemachus' lyrics reference "Open Arms" & how much Telemachus' characterization mirrors Polites.

But I don't think I've combined these two ideas enough.

SO!

Place your bets now, do we have 1 last Polites reference to look forward to, or 2?

So far, we've had some sort of Polites reference in Each saga

Ocean Saga:

"Open Arms" chords heard in "Luck Runs Out" (confirmed by Jorge in this video here)

Odysseus: "I still believe we can be kind. Lead from the heart and see what starts"

Polites: "We'll be fine if we're leading from the heart"

"Everything's changed since Polites" in "Keep Your Friends Close

Circe Saga:

Circe: "You've given me no reason to bestow you with my trust"

Polites: "You can show a person that you trust them, when you stop & lower your guard"

Odysseus: *lowers his guard by telling Circe his true motivations & gains her sympathy/help in the process*

Circe: "Maybe showing one act of kindness, leads to kinder souls down the road"

Polites: "Kindness is brave"

Underworld Saga:

We actually get Polites back/Open Arms refrain

"I lost my best friend" from "Monster"

Thunder Saga:

The siren uses Polites' instrument while trying to lure Odysseus into the water in "Suffering" (Jorge talks about that in this video here)

Wisdom Saga:

We get Polites back again/another Open Arms refrain in "Love in Paradise"

(Also, check out my post talking about how the Wisdom Saga argues for Polites' open arms philosophy to see just How Much it is referenced/paralleled/called back to in that saga)

Telemachus: "Maybe, it's all gonna turn out great. I know we'll be fine"

Polites: "Whatever we face, we'll be fine if we're leading from the heart"

Telemachus: "Boy I wish I could, so I could bring the world some light"

Polites: "No matter the place, we can light up the world"

Now, it could ABSOLUTELY be a coincidence that Jorge referenced Polites/Open Arms in every saga & maybe the Wisdom Saga will be the last we hear of him

OR, it could be a pattern, in which case, Polites will show up again in SOME way in both the Vengeance Saga & the Ithaca Saga (be it his instrument (like with the sirens) the "Open Arms" chord progression (like in "Luck Runs Out") or the "Open Arms" chorus (like in "Underworld" or "Love in Paradise")

Now, I've already mentioned a few times how I could see Telemachus being used to call back to Polites (such as at the very bottom of my response here) ESPECIALLY after the Wisdom Saga & how much Telemachus parallels Polites both personality-wise & in his beliefs.

So I'm thinking IF we have one last Polites reference it might be when Telemachus & Odysseus finally meet/speak.

Perhaps a semi-reprised lyric (such as another lyric about "bringing the world light" or Polites-like optimism) combined either with Polites' instrument or chords from "Open Arms"

Which could both remind Odysseus of Polites & show that the values of "Open Arms" still live in Telemachus, even if Odysseus couldn't manage to uphold them himself.

(I also like the thought of making it more explicit, with Odysseus acknowledging he sees Polites in Telemachus with lyrics such as "I look into your eyes & I think back that friend of mine. You're as old as he was, when we left for war."[which I got from @midnight-drip art here] BUT, I don't think this is likely)

A Polites' callback could come from Athena of all places, given that in the Wisdom Saga she realizes she was wrong to demand Odysseus turn off his heart.

However

Personally, I like the idea of one last "Open Arms" reprise in the Ithaca Saga, BUT not the chorus.

If you check out my break down of "Open Arms" you'll know my interpretation of "Open Arms" is Polites' noticing Odysseus' stress/trauma & trying to help him heal.

What if after Odysseus takes care of the suitors he's left unsure of how to approach his family? The wife he hasnt seen in 20 years. The son he's never known?

What if they're standing across the stage from each other, both parties unsure of how to proceed, then we hear a soft

"This life is amazing, when you greet it with open arms"

BUT, we don't get the chorus. After the pause, Polites' voice continues:

"I see in your face, there is so much guilt inside your heart"

Odysseus shudders, staring longingly at his family but still not daring to approach them after everything he's done.

"So why not replace it? And light up the world here's how to start..."

Telemachus takes the initiative. He takes a tentative step forward, then another, and another, until he's standing in front of his father.

"Greet the world with open arms, "

Telemachus reaches slowly for his father, willing to breach the gap but unsure if his touch is welcome.

"Greet the world with open arms..."

Odysseus opens his arms & yanks Telemachus into a crushing hug. He starts to sob. Telemachus hugs him back just as tightly. Penelope starts to make her way over, though she gives them their space for now.

Odysseus & Telemachus pull apart just enough for Odysseus & Penelope to face each other. Odysseus extends his hand to her & she slips her hand into his.

Then we get the final line, fading/echoing, as if it were making its exit:

"You can relax, my friend"

Signaling Odysseus can let go now. Its over. He's allowed to let go of "the war and bloodshed" and of the screams.

Then song 39 starts (which like, in my defense, if "Love in Paradise can have both an introduction by Athena AND midway commentary from her, then song 39 could open up with one last Polites reprise)

Not that I think this WILL happen, but it wouldn't be unprecedented for this musical.

Something like this would tie up that Polites/Open Arms narrative thread + it would fit in with the canonical fact of Polites' being Odysseus' emotional/mental support

(Also, check out my analysis/break down of Odysseus & Polites' relationship as depicted in EPIC for more on how Polites is canonically Odysseus' emotional support & his death moves the entire plot)

AND something like this would give the audience closure/reassurance that Odysseus' journey HAS indeed ended. He will relax now, he will put away the sword/warrior, something he wanted to do since the Troy Saga but couldn't (both as an explicit command from Athena & because of the whole Polyphemus/Poseidon business)

Don't read past here if you dont want spoilers for song titles!

[AND, just for funies, if you wanna read a Really long post breaking down the song "Open Arms" lyric by lyric, you can see my analysis of it (and of Polites' character) right here!]

[wileys-russo]

Pollito / barca team ," why are you hiding in the closet" training room/ ground

in the pollito universe with stuck, tiny silver flash, the one where the kids go bowling barça femeni II in hiding

"mierda!" you mumbled under your breath, thumbs flying with gentle taps against your screen as you tried relentlessly to beat the level of candy crush you'd been stuck on all week.

you let out a small scream of surprise as the door to the equipment closet you were hiding out in swung open, flooding the dark with light and causing you to squint and rub at your eyes.

"aye pollito. why are you hiding in the closet?" patri sighed, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow and hands on hips. "i'm not. i have been out of the closet for a year now!" you grinned up at the older girl who snickered and offered you a hand up.

"no i can't, i'm having...quiet time." you faltered trying to think of an excuse which clearly didn't work on the older spaniard. "what did you do now?" pina chimed in, causing you to jump again from your spot on the floor not even having noticed her there as well.

"nothing! ale told me i'm supposed to channel my energy into resting." you rolled your eyes, this lie falling off your tongue a little smoother as both girls gave you a look, shared a look and then decided to leave you to it.

the problems started when a half an hour later you were hungry, currently skipping lunch for your little hide out as you huffed and mulled over your options.

you texted the one person who you knew would come through for you right now without question, perking up a few minutes later when there was a knock on the door and you knocked back, vicky opening it with a tray of food.

"this was so hard to sneak out." the girl sighed shaking her head, sitting down beside you where you scooted across. "compañero i owe you." you exhaled happily, the girl humming and watching in slight disgust as you shoveled in food like it could disappear at a moments notice.

"still haven't beat it?" the forward chuckled pointing to your phone on the floor where candy crush was loaded. "no!" you huffed with a glare, nodding as the girl reached for it with a raised eyebrow. "por favor be my guest!" you mumbled out between bites.

"boo!" you choked on a piece of chicken as the door swung open again, vicky smacking you on the back as it came sailing out of your mouth and landed on jana's shoe. "ew pollito!" the older girl groaned, kicking her foot and sending it flying away as bruna snickered.

"you can't hide in here forever amiga." bruna warned as you motioned for them to go away or close the door, the tiny closet suddenly becoming very cramped as they shuffled inside and sat down, knees tucked to their chest.

"not forever! i have a plan." you smacked away jana's hand where she reached for your jelly cup. "like the same plan you had not to get caught in the first place?" vicky chimed in as you frowned and shoved her, kicking bruna who tried to hide her laugh.

"that was not my fault."

"nothing is ever your fault!" jana rolled her eyes. "this really wasn't! i had a fool proof plan until that burro decided today of all days she was going to arrive early." you grumbled unhappily, all of your hard work and planning having been for nothing.

"so its her fault for ruining the plan you had to mess with her anyway? oye pollito, take some responsibility for once!" bruna sighed with a shake of her head, all four of you jumping in shock as again the door swung open and flooded with light.

"dios mío now i find you all! you left me at the table all alone pendejos." cata swore with a huff, arms crossed over her chest. "and for a secret meeting? for shame!" the goalkeeper tutted as all four of you groaned and complained there wasn't room when she closed the door and flopped down right in the middle.

"so what are we discussing?" cata asked, her knees digging into your sides as you shuffled around unable to find a reprise. "how nothing is ever pollitos fault." jana rolled her eyes again as you mocked her and tossed a carrot stick at her head, cata's hand shooting up to catch it mid air.

"not nothing! just this mornings...incident." you huffed, wincing at the obnoxious crunch of cata chomping down on the carrot right by your ear. "oh that? sí i will admit i am shocked you are still alive." cata mused with another obnoxious crunch.

"she's got the alexia shield." three voices sung out in unison as you pulled a face.

"first. thats super creepy do not all talk at the same two. second; sí she won't touch me when ale is around. but she has captains meetings all afternoon now until media which is why-"

"-you're hiding." "what did i say about all speaking at once!"

"i just have to survive another..." you paused to tap cata's watch. "...twenty minutes. then we have media and she's not going to kill me with witnesses around!" you beamed happily at your newfound plan, not missing the looks of uncertainty flashed around by your friends.

"what!" "nothing nothing, i'm sure that will work. and then tomorrow?" jana questioned as you faltered. "i pray she gets amnesia and forgets all about it?" you smiled hopefully as vicky shook her head and patted your shoulder.

"i will miss you amiga...can i have your nintendo switch?" "vicky!"

"well well well." you all jumped again as the door swung open, the face you'd been avoiding glaring down at you. "the rest of you have five seconds to haul culo out of this closet or you suffer as well." the girl warned.

"traitors!" you yelled after the four girls who fell over one another trying to run away, bruna and cata picking up vicky who tripped, carrying her away by the arms in a hurry unable to get away fast enough.

"hola mapi, did you do something new with your hair? looks very good today." you smiled as sweetly as you could manage, the defenders jaw clenching.

"purple is your colour?" you tried again with a nervous laugh, having been caught red handed with purple dye on your hands this morning after dumping it in mapi's shampoo, the girl having arrived early and caught you, but not having put two and two together until she showered after training.

"look we can talk about this we can-" you started to beg as the girl stepped inside and started to close the door. "oh sí sí sí we're going to talk pollito...but after i shave one of your eyebrows off." she grinned wickedly holding up a razor as your eyes widened.

"ALEXIA!"

[hgracieeees]

my thoughts on the australian hadestown cast!

n.b. these are MY thoughts on how i felt and percieved the australian cast's takes on characters that i've seen many versions of. personally, i felt this show presented similtaneously very fresh and very accurate versions of these beautiful characters <3 in this post, i focused more on the differences rather than the similarities to previous performances.

noah mullins' orpheus is very awkward but in such a sweet way. he's clearly autistic-coded - he fully jumped when he turned around during 'road to hell' to 'see' the audience (+ his wave is so sweetly shy rather than over-earnest) and at one point during 'wait for me (reprise)' he started stimming out of stress & overstimulation. he has less of the socially-inept earnestness than maybe reeve carney's oprheus had (more of a socially-inept awkwardness), but it came out properly in 'come home with me' towards eurydice - it seems like he's terrified of socialising with everyone except her. noah is incredibly lanky, and so their orpheus very much has the vibe of his legs and arms being so long that he never quite learned how to use them properly, which suits his orpheus perfectly. their 'is it true' is powerful not because of an extreme emotional performance (see donal finn's) but because he seemed comfortable and in control for the first time. his neurodivergency also feels a lot more pronounced during 'doubt comes in' - the loss of confidence and increased anxiety feels very natural for his orpheus, as devestating as it is. his awkwardness being said, he is very physically comfortable with eurydice - they and abigail were so adorable during 'way down hadestown', the two of them feel like teenagers who have just gotten into their first relationship. i've heard noah talk about how much they wanted to work with abi, and i'm so glad they got that chance!

abigail adriano's eurydice is a tough little thing. abigail is quite small in stature, especially next to noah, and so she seems to be twice as thick-skinned and aggressive during the opening couple of songs to make up for it. at the beginning she is flighty and quick with the way she runs away from the fates, hades & even orpheus at the beginning of their relationship, super determined to protect herself, but she's got a real baby face which makes you just ache for her and the pain she's clearly already experienced. it also means that when eurydice gets more comfortable during the summer (during 'way down' and 'all i've ever known'), this sweetness just blooms out of her. her and noah have incredible chemistry, and she just turns into a little schoolgirl with a first crush during 'way down'. her 'wait for me (reprise)' is INCREDIBLE, such a powerful voice out of this small girl, and her 'flowers' is SO emotional. also just before the turn, she is like swinging along the set, as if she has so much trust in orpheus and is so excited to leave hadestown and spend the rest of her life with him, which just makes the turn 100x more painful.

christine anu is just the perfect choice for an australian hermes. she has a brilliant Aboriginal aunty vibe about her (we love seeing First Nations people in australian theatre!) - especially as some of the more spoken lines, she really leans into the aussie vowels (e.g. 'we're gonna sing it again' and 'don't come on too strong'). she's got an incredible voice & stage presence, and even though the way she holds herself onstage felt at times as if she perhaps has less musical theatre experience and more experience performing as a singer in her own right (i haven't looked at her resume), that seems to work pefectly for the narrator character, who straddles the fourth wall the entire show. it really has the vibe of her telling all of us a story around the campfire, and she really milked the beginning of 'road to hell (reprise)' for all it's worth. this hermes seems to LOVE telling this story, as painful it is - she's joyful & hopeful in her telling, it's much less of a tortured narrator and much more of a 'this is an important story to tell and it's a story of HOPE despite tragedy' type of vibe. her and elenoa's persephone are girl besties, and she has a real aunty type of love & care (like the aunty who you're not related to, but has always been there) for all the workers + orphy & eury (as noah & abi call them). she honestly feels like the oldest and most mature presence on the stage - older than hades & persephone (read on for my thoughts on a slightly younger-feeling seph & hades), and so able to tell this story from a more mature & knowledgeable position.

elenoa rokobaro's persephone is so much fun. she plays persephone a lot drunker (during 'our lady' and the other underworld scenes) than i'd seen before, which made her alcoholism a lot more obvious and powerful, especially the 'i've had enough' line in 'how long'. she feels a lot younger than amber gray's persephone, which i think makes her story a lot more powerful - almost like a younger sister to christine's hermes at times, and similarly, i felt more of a big sister vibe to eurydice rather than the aunty vibe which i get from amber gray's persephone. i think her overt drunkeness represents her take on the character well - she's a lot looser with her movements, less of the awkward jerkiness of amber's persephone and more of a free, all-encompassing movement (in my opinion). i loved it - her 'our lady' is so much fun, but also a lot more confronting (due to how clear her alcohol-induced numbness is covering up a pain). her and adrian seem almost playful during 'epic III - they danced', which i think contributed to the fun, younger vibe.

adrian tamburini's hades has a similarly younger vibe to him - almost sleazy but not quite (and by younger, i mean compared to patrick page, not to the rest of the characters - him and persephone are still clearly older than orpheus & eurydice). he gave real business ceo vibes at times. this hades really struck me with that insecurity leading to immaturity that every hades textually has, but the immaturity of his behaviour really comes out in adrian's choices. he seems really petty in the way he treats the workers & persephone while he's upset about her being away from him. also, his 'hey little songbird' is much more melodic than patrick page's, which is super powerful when you're used to the low growl, and is very alluring in a different way - a much more similar allure to orpheus'. his 'why we build the wall' and 'chant (reprise)' were SO powerful, though, a real power and anger present in that low voice. they were also slightly more explicit about the subtle sexual connotations of 'he closed the door behind' in 'why we build the wall' and 'the girl means nothing to me' in 'how long' which just made you the right amount of uneasy. i think overall, the younger vibe that adrian and elenoa both have leads to a real pettiness in their anger at each other and a real playfulness in their reunion (e.g. when he grows the flower in 'epic III'). they don't so much have that 'ancient' vibe that patrick & amber had, but i think it upholds the insecurity & immaturity in their actions rather than undermines it (which it absolutely could have if done wrong). i feel like instead of it saying 'here's this ancient couple who are failing at communicating and caring for each other in the way they should, an ancient couple who are still insecure and immature', they are an incredibly powerful couple who are still figuring out how to love each other, despite the length of their relationship and their ultimate power over the workers & the seasons.

conclusion: GO SEE THIS CAST. like i said at the top, these performances felt both new, as well as true to the text and to the original concepts for these characters. they didn't make a single choice that i felt undermined the characters or any other interpretation of them, and they all perfectly enhanced the themes & narrative of the story. by comparing this cast to the original broadway or to the west end casts, i feel like i just understand the chraracters and the text even more then i already did, bringing out new nuances or new ways of representing the same experiences within the same story. i'm going to see it again in april, so if i see these guys again (i would also love to see any of the swing's takes on the roles) then i might add to the post <3

professional photos of this cast: 1 | 2 b-roll: 1