A/n: I hope you all enjoy Iâm not gonna lie I completely forgot to add that reader was more than likely a virgin considering her circumstances but aye good thing itâs fiction also tags 𫶠@saintlucretia and @honey-eyed-munson i hope you enjoy your request if thereâs anything i need to change plz lmk
âWe have to beâŠdemons?â
For the first time in your life, you were utterly confused as Dr. Ian Kelsen moved through the temple like a man possessed. Dragging crates, muttering to himself, knocking femurs together as he rummaged through old relics of belief and bone.
âYes and no,â he hummed distractedly, dipping into his bunker and bringing out his battered record player and setting it reverently on the altar. Dust bloomed into the air. âYouâre going to be a demon,â he continued, matter-of-fact. âAnd Iâm going to be Satan.â
You blinked twice and tilted your head. Ian must have sensed it,the confusion and disbelief. He froze mid step,the manic panic from before dissolving and for a second he was back to the Ian you knew.
âYouâll thank me later child,â he said quietly. âWhen this boy leaves.â His voice dropped, rough around the edges. âIâve never felt true fear until he came here.â
You could tell by his tone he was not lying. Each word trembled as it left his mouth.
You had never seen Ian scared.
You had seen Ian calm while cleaning the wounds of an alpha,calm while surrounded by the dead, calm while the world ended over and over again.
But never like this.
Ian had taken you in when you were a child. Small, shaking, wrapped in clothes soaked with blood that did not belong to you. When you stumbled into his temple of bones, you were ready to give up entirely. Your parents had been torn apart in front of you. The sky had felt like it was collapsing inward.
That day, Ian rescued you in every way that mattered.
He fed you. Protected you. Gave the horror shape and meaning when everything else was senseless. Somewhere along the way, he became your father not by blood, but by survival. Together, you searched for reason in the ruin, for an end to the madness that never quite came.
So though you wanted to tell him to just hid until this mysterious man shows up and leaves,you couldnât help but sigh and help him get it set up. You always felt as though you owed him a favor no matter what.
You barely had time to finish setting up when night had taken over. The upside down cross meant to sit in the front still laid in the back and you panicked,trying to adjust the antler horns on your head when the sounds of footsteps came near.
Ian caught your wrist just before the steps got any closer
âHide,â he murmured, urgent now but not frantic, more sharp with purpose. âDo not come out until Iâm halfway through the dance. Youâll hear it. Thereâs a lyric and youâll know when itâs time.â
Before you could question him, he pressed you back into the shadows. Bone cooled your spine as you crouched, heart hammering hard enough you were sure theyâd hear it.
Then the music started.
The record player crackled once then twice before Number of the Beast bled into the night, loud and blasphemous, echoing off skull. The Fingers erupted almost instantly. Laughter, shouting, boots stomping dirt into dust. Chaos took them fast, the rhythm dragging their bodies into something feral and loose, something closer to worship than dancing.
Ian moved among them like a god unbound.
He shouted over the music, the words of the song lost to you but not to them. They followed him eagerly, clumsy and devoted, eyes bright and unfocused as belief took over.
You stayed hidden then it happened.
The moment Ian had told you about. The shift in the song with the rise of something dark. Your breath caught and you almost didnât move. Your legs moved without you actually noticing.
You stepped out slowly.
From your place at the edge, you watched as Ian grabbed a plate and blew powder into the air and into their faces. Fine and pale, it clung to sweat-slicked skin, caught in eyelashes, smeared across mouths. Laughter turned sluggish. Movements slowed, then warped. Their eyes glassed over, pupils blown wide as their minds slipped loose from the world.
Thatâs when you saw Jimmy or who you assumed was.
He was cleaner than the rest. His hair a lot more natural with a tiara resting at the top. And of course the crush velvet tracksuit Ian had told you about.
You moved toward him without sound, letting the antlers cast long shadows along your shoulders, letting the bone charms whisper with every step.
When you stopped in front of him, his breath hitched.
You didnât touch him. You didnât need to.
You tilted your head, slow, curious, and indulgent. You lifted two fingers, curling them toward yourself in a silent beckon.Just subtle enough to feel like temptation rather than command.
Jimmy stared at you, wide-eyed and stunned, mouth parted like a child seeing something holy for the first time. Not fear but awe and devotion. The kind that hollowed him out and made him pliable.
As you approached him more you didnât realize that the dust didnât settle the way it should have.
It lingered,thin and pale, suspended in the air like breath in winter.
You were too focused on Jimmyâs wide, reverent stare and the way his body leaned toward you as if pulled by an unseen thread.
Then you inhaled.
Just a little.
Your lungs burned pleasantly, warmth blooming behind your eyes. The world softened at its edges, colors deepening, shadows stretching longer than they should have. The bone charms at your hips chimed too loudly, too sweetly, like they were singing to you.
You were supposed to be acting.
You couldnât remember when that stopped.
Jimmy was still staring at you with awe. His knees almost buckling when you gave him a smile.
âCome,â you say softly. It wasnât a command but an invitation.
Jimmyâs eyes tracked your fingers like they were some kind of holy relic. And he snapped himself from the daze following you immediately.
You led him away from the others, away from the stomping and laughter and Ianâs wild dance, deeper into the dark where the light from the fire and candles couldnât quite reach. Each step felt inevitable. Each breath felt thicker, sweeter, wrong in a way that made your pulse race.
Jimmy didnât even question what was happening. His mind still a daze from the intoxication. He followed behind you like a starving man following sin and salvation at once.
Somewhere in your rational part of your mind had screamed out that this was not you.
But it was easy to ignore. Because it felt so natural to lean in.
So easy to let him believe.
So euphoric to let yourself believe too.
âChrist⊠Christ above,â Jimmy whispered hoarsely, then corrected himself, frantic. âNoânoâ Him. Him.â
His breath was shallow with little broken sounds slipping from his throat before he could stop it.
Once you reached where the upside down cross laid against the ground,you stopped.
Jimmy almost bumped into you and when you turned his breath hitched again.
He was wrecked in every way a man would be.
His eyes blown wide like a puppyâs,lips trembling in temptation or even fear.
âI can feel it,â he whimpered, voice breaking into something small and helpless. âYouâre takinâ it outta me. My breath..my soulâfuck, I cannaeââ
His knees buckled again but he caught himself only because you lifted a hand. Your fingers grazed against his tracksuit just below his collarbone.
âAye,â he gasped, eyes fluttering. âThatâs it. Thatâs how itâs meant tae be. He said it would be.. said Iâd feel hollow when it came fer me.â
He swallowed hard and you could feel him shaking as if he were in the confessional,confessing the worst sins
âMy da,â he breathed, almost tender. âOld Nick. Satan himself. He doesnae lie.â
You tilted your head, antlers casting shadows across his face, and the motion alone made him whine,soft,broken,utterly undone.
âI followed him,â Jimmy rushed on, desperate now, words tumbling over each other in a thick Highland lilt. âI did what he asked,what a sonâs meant tae do. So if youâre his⊠if youâre what he sent,â His voice cracked completely. âthen please,â he sobbed quietly, âdonât stop.â
Jimmy leaned closer and his forehead nearly rested against yours. You could smell the sweat against his skin as he begged you like a penitent begging for absolution he didnât believe he deserved.
âIâm emptyinâ,â he finally whispered, awed and terrified. âI can feel it leavinâ me. That means itâs workinâ, aye? Means Iâm chosen.â
And in the haze curling through your mind, with the dust still sweet in your lungs and belief humming under your skin, you didnât correct him.
You couldnât.
Because when he looked at you like that. He was ruined, devoted, offering himself up without being asked. It felt right to let him unravel.
It felt holy.
The heat creeping inside of you that you couldnât contain.
âHe had sent me,â you finally talk with a voice sweet as honey ânow lay down on the cross.â
Your fingers point towards it and he doesnât even hesitate.
He scrambles towards the large wooden piece and you stop him just as he gets near
âNaked.â
He stops almost sobering up to question but then he sees the shadows that cast behind you like wings and he doesnât disobey.
He quickly unzips his jacket and pushes down his pants and underwear along with his shoes,tossing them in random directions.
Heâs hung even while still soft.
You also almost lose your composure for a second and have to walk up towards him to snap out of it.
Heâs reaching to take off his white tank but you help instead. It sticks to his skin from the sweat.
The feeling of your fingers touching his hot skin and helping him like a mother undressing their child,had him withering and whimpering.
He lays down on the cross now.
You admire his view and step over him,each leg on either side of him before you sink down. Your clothed heat just above his dick makes him hard but he gets harder when you begin to touch him.
Your fingers trace against the softness of his face and you twirl a strand of his blonde hair around your finger.
âOld nick is very pleased with you,â you hum and watch his eyes widened with happiness âbut you must prove your worth with one last task.â
Your leaned down by his ear now. Your breath making the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight
âYou must please me,eat me,and fuck me.â
âY-yes Iâll do anything fer ya.â He whines like a child âjust let me do anything you want and I will.â
You give him a pleased look and shift so now your facing the opposite way.
You reach down and pull off your brown dress and chains of bones.
âTouch me.â You order and he does.
His hands grip onto the fleshy meat of your ass,pulling you down until your pussy is close to his face.
You let out a groan of pleasure and wrap your hands along his base.
âYou can keep going.â
You say when you notice heâs hesitant at first.
You can feel him nod by the way his nose brushes against your slit.
He licks a long strip before his tongue swirls along your wet folds. His hands were still grasping your ass,spreading it to get access to you.
You moan and stroke him as he eats you out. His cock twitches with every movement of your hand.
âYouâre doing such a good job.â You praise in between breathy moans.
You feel him whine against your cunt as he wraps his lips along your wet folds. Sucking your juices like a man starved. His nose rubs along your sensitive clit with each lick and suck.
His tongue moves to your hole and thrust inside of you.
Your juices were sure to be covering his face by now. Youâre moaning loudly and stroking him faster. You spit down onto his cock to give it more lube. You stroke him a little longer before leaning down and taking him into your mouth.
Your tongue moves along his shaft,rubbing along his throbbing veins and swirling around the tip.
Heâs whining into your pussy more now. The feeling sent vibrations through your body and you felt that knot in your stomach form.
Your lips are still wrapped around him. They were swollen as droll dripped down your chin as you took him all the way down to your throat and then back up until he was completely out of your mouth,making a pop sound in the process
âThatâs it,â you moan âyouâre gonna make me cum.â
The words slip pass your lips in shaken syllables. Your high reaches you before you know it.
Your needy pussy gushes your juices all over his face as you cum. Youâre shaking now as he laps it up.
His cock is still in your hands and you see his precum drip from his swollen tip.
âPlease.â Heâs begging from under you. âPlease let me cum. Iâve been so good.â
His voice is desperate yet you still let go of him.
It slaps against his stomach and heâs practically crying now
âNo need for tears,â you reassured âyouâre gonna cum baby.â You reach down and grab his cock to align him with your soaked folds.
You rub his tip along your wetness. He grips ahold of the cross underneath him,holding on it with his life as his body shakes.
You giggle and look back. He looks utterly pathetic in the sickest hot way possible
âSuch a needy little boy.â You coo.
You squeeze his cock and he cries out. You couldnât help to tease him just a little longer before you completely sunk yourself down onto him.
He stretched your walls out too good and you felt like he might split you in half for a second. You grab ahold of his ankles,shaking from the feeling and slowly started to move your hips up and down.
âYer-fuck yer so tight.â He panted. His fingers moved from the cross below and grabbed onto your hips,nails digging into your soft flesh making you cry out.
He helps you move by rocking your hips with his hands in the same rhythm you started.
It was unholy in every way. Fucking on a cross with people who could catch you at any time or worse an infected.
But you didnât care.
Your body trembled as you fucked him. Using his cock and his faith against him,bending him to your will.
Jimmy didnât last long though. You were sure you were his first by the way his seed spills into you and he whimpers. He throws his head back against the wood as he shakes violently under you.
You soon coat his cock with your own arousal. Your juices and his cum spill out from you as you pull off him. They drip down your thighs and onto the cross.
Youâre out of breath now. Youâre sitting in front of him as he still lays. His cock twitched along with the rest of his body.
You let your breath sync with his. Let the warmth linger until the fog in your mind seemed to clear.
The music and the sound of the others going crazy had long since faded. You were sure they were confused and Ian was probably having a nightmare trying to figure out what happened to you and Jimmy.
Though you were sobered enough to think about it,you still didnât care.
Jimmy finally propped himself up with his elbows. His eyes werenât as glazed but they were dark with a hint of life in them.
That frantic edge was gone but replaced with calm devotion.
âYou feel it,aye?â He asked with a shaky laugh âThe quiet after. A purpose fulfilled.â
You swallowed a lump that suddenly formed in your throat âJimmyâŠI-â
âIf old nick sent you then this,â he explains pointing at you and then back to him âis meant tae be.â
You shudder from his words but couldnât place if it was fear from coming to your senses or if it was from excitement.
âHe promised me a sign,â Jimmy continued, reverent now. âSaid when I was ready and when Iâd given enough,heâd send somethinâ beautiful. Somethinâ thatâd ruin me gentle.â
He sits up more now and scoots closer to you on the other end of the cross you had moved to.
âYouâre quieter than I thought youâd be,â he whispered. âKinder.â
Your heart twisted painfully.
âThis isnâtââ you started, then stopped. A weird heat formed in your stomach. You didnât want to stop him despite all your common sense screaming at you
âA gift doesnae need tae shout tae be true,â he murmured. âSometimes theyâre sent tae stay.â
His forehead is rested against yours now. You should have pulled back and told him the truth even if that meant something terrible happening.
Instead,you stayed still.
You closed your eyes and enjoyed the odd intimacy.
You realized with a slow, guilty ache on top of the cross and in Jimmyâs presence that you liked being his gift from old nick.
That day seemed determined to go wrong from the very beginning.
First, you had lost track of the deer you had been following for weeksâvanished into thin air as if it had never existedâand then the herd arrived.
You all had been scouting the outskirts of northern Great Britain, hunting for supplies in what remained of an old, abandoned supermarket. The shelves had already been looted countless times, but sometimes luck hid in the most unlikely places.
Too bad luck wasnât on your side.
A pair of Jimmiesâalways goofing around and messing aboutâmanaged to knock over an entire pallet. The crash echoed through the building like a cannon shot.
Immediately afterward came the silence.
And then...chaos.
The noise had drawn the infected from every direction. Within moments, the streets filled with moving bodies, a solid wave that made fighting seem not just useless but suicidal.
Sir Jimmy grabbed you by the arm while you were still frozen.
He said nothing. He dragged you with him toward the dense forest nearby, along with the others. Branches lashed at your face, uneven ground tripped you a few times, and your lungs burned with every gasp of air.
The infected seemed to be everywhere.
With the panic, you two inevitably got separated from the rest of the group. A wrong turn, a shove, a stumble narrowly avoidedâand suddenly you were alone, forced to head back toward the road.
When you emerged onto the asphalt stretch, a vast car graveyard greeted you: rusted shells, shattered glass, metal eaten away by years of neglect and abandonment.
You didnât waste a second.
You spotted a car that, at least, seemed to still have all its doors intact and threw yourselves inside without hesitation, slamming the doors with a thud, your hearts hammering full blast.
You reclined the seats to keep your bodies away from the windows and stayed perfectly still, straining to listen.
Silence filled the air.
Then, after a few seconds of unreal quietâ
Sir Jimmy burst out laughing.
A low, hysterical laugh escaped his lips, still tinged with adrenaline. A sound out of place, almost discordant after the terror you had just survived, making you glance at him with a raised eyebrow.
âWhatâs so funny?â you asked.
âAh, nothin' at all. Looks like Old Nick still isnât ready to have me joininâ his crew down below.â
âIf you cared so much,â you snapped, annoyed, âyou could have stayed in that supermarket.â
He moved slowly, sliding his whole body onto one side toward you. The car seat creaked under his weight as he approached, invading your space.
âAnd leave ya wanderin' this world all on yer own?â he said softly, with a poisonous sweetness. âI could never, luv.â
The tiara was still perfectly in place, nestled in his hair as if the run hadnât moved it an inch. It framed his forehead, highlighting his eyes: a deep, watchful gray that now fixed on you from below with an intensity impossible to ignore.
And, oh, you knew that look.
âC'mere,â he murmured in a drawn-out tone, extending a hand, beckoning you closer.
You swallowed and cast a nervous glance at the fogged-up windows above, beyond which the forest lay in unnatural silence, but you leaned forward anyway, obedient, past the gap between the seats, resting a hand on his broad chest. You felt the heat of his skin beneath the fabric of his suit, the strong, steady beat of his heart.
âGood girl,â he whispered, the grin slowly widening across his lips, revealing rotting teeth in a satisfied wolfish smile. âYa ran like a proper lioness out there. Weâre unstoppableâme an' you.â
He leaned toward you in a languid movement as his hands closed around your back, arching you against him until your body pressed fully against his.
His face drew near yours, his nose brushing along your jawline in an exploratory caress, as if rediscovering your scent, before his warm lips settled on your neck, right where your pulse throbbed strongest.
âS-Sir Jimmyâoutside⊠they-they couldâŠâ you stammered, voice shaking, terror still clinging to your bones.
âShh.â He silenced you with a commanding hiss, taking your jaw in the palm of his calloused hand and forcing your head toward him.
His lips claimed yours in a rough, hungry kiss, sudden, urgent, with no warning or gentleness. His tongue invaded your mouth with need, exploring, sucking, as if he wanted to take a piece of your soul. The cold, heavy chains grazed the sensitive skin of your neck while he held you tighter, making you shiver from head to toe.
Adrenaline must have fried his brain. You felt it in the frantic way his hands roamed, sliding under your hoodie, under your shirt, eagerly seeking bare skin, heat, contact.
âShit, I need ya,â he growled against your lips. âI need ya, princess. I need to fuck ya right here, righâ now, to remind meself weâre alive. That weâre still together.â
His melodramatic words hit you like an electric shock, igniting fire in your lower belly as his impatient fingers undid the drawstrings of your sweatpants, yanking them down with quick, almost furious movements.
âWe...we can'tââ
You were still shaken, heart racing from fear, but his touch⊠Old Nick, Sir Jimmy had the power to make you lose all rationality, to make you commit the worst kinds of folly.
He pushed you down along the passenger seat, making you lie on your back against the grimy leather. The car was cramped, the seats worn and dusty, but he didnât seem to care.
âWell, look at that... someone's a bleedin' fuckin' liar,â he grinned, amused, as his fingers slid between your folds, finding you already soaked, ready despite everything.
The contact made your muscles clench and your legs give a small spasm.
âYer drenched, hen.â He pushed two fingers deep inside you, the cold rings pressing against your warm skin, heightening every sensation as your walls tightened and stretched to take them.
His fingers moved in a slow, deliberate rhythm, like he wanted to savor every reaction from you, sliding in and out and curling just enough to hit that spot that made you arch your back and grind against him like a desperate cat in heat.
You found yourself rolling your hips without realizing it, driven only by the growing need to feel moreâdeeper, harder. A trembling sound escaped your lips, something halfway between a whimper and a plea, as heat spread through your stomach and down your thighs.
His mouth settled between your shoulder and neck, alternating bites with soft sucks that would leave fresh bruises alongside the ones already scattered across your body from the night before.
âAlways so responsive,â he murmured against your skin, his voice low and full of wonder. âA gift straight from fuckin' hell, all for me.â
When his lips closed over a tender bruise, you moaned loudly.
âJ-Jimmy... ah... faster.â You pleaded, barely recognizing your own voice.
Your hands instinctively climbed his shoulders, seeking purchase. Your fingers gripped the fabric of his tracksuit, nails digging in as you desperately tried to anchor yourself while the sensations grew overwhelming.
Your breathing turned ragged, broken, and he noticed immediately. His fingers slowed, then stopped completely, leaving you teetering on the edge.
Jimmy lifted his face from your neck, an arrogant grin on his face shadowed by a light blond stubble. His thumb traced a slow, cruel circle over your swollen clit, teasing you.
âWanna come without me, luv?â he asked, his voice scratched with ruthless amusement. âYer so bleeldin' rude.â
His hands pulled away from your skin slowly, leaving you feverish, one step from orgasm, and he brought them to his fly to free himself quickly from that annoying barrier.
He was already hard, straining, his body betraying just how turned on he was. He gave himself a few firm strokes, shifting the skin beneath the head, and the friction drew a small bead of pre-cum to the tip, gathering for a moment before sliding slowly down the shaft, leaving a glistening, slick trail.
He didn't undress further.
Usually, Jimmy loved taking his time: stripping you piece by piece with sadistic patience, lingering with hands and mouth until you begged, until you forgot the outside world. But sometimesâlike nowâhe preferred raw urgency, freeing only what was necessary and taking you fast, hard, without restraint.
âYer lucky today, me love,â he purred, grabbing your legs, fingers sinking into the softness of your thighs and lifting them effortlessly to fold them against your body until your knees nearly touched your chin, forcing you to open completely beneath him.
The cold rings burned against your skin, and his neck chains swung in front of your face, brushing your nose as the tip of his cock rubbed between your folds, spreading his pre-cum mixed with your wetness in a teasing glide.
âI'm not patient either.â
He drove into you with one sharp, brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt in a single stroke that forced the air from your lungs and tore an animalistic moan from deep in your throat.
The initial burn of sudden stretch melted instantly into overwhelming pleasure, the deep, consuming feeling of being completely filledâhis veins pulsing against your sensitive walls, his heat flooding you, your body welcoming him as it always did.
âThere we are,â he growled, pulling back just enough to watch where you were joined, ravenous. âHome again.â
Without delay, he began thrusting hard right away, his hips slamming against yours with wet, loud smacks, every angle calculated to hit the deepest spot inside you.
The car rocked visibly with each thrust, the creaking suspension protesting, the windows fogging more and more from your hot breath and the heat of your bodies.
Outside, the road was wrapped in oppressive silence, but the danger was still there, palpable, forcing you to keep your eyes on clearer patches of glass.
When he noticed your gaze drifting to the windows, he yanked your attention back with his right thumb rubbing your swollen, sensitive clit.
The touch pulled you straight back into the vortex of pleasure and onto him.
âDonât be gettinâ distracted now, sweetheart. Ya know I donât like it.â
Before you could snap back, his tongue invaded your mouth again. He sucked yours hard, then moved to bite your lower lip until it hurtâall to draw a reaction, to feel you alive and responsive beneath him.
And he got it.
Your hands clutched the back of his blond hair, pulling hard enough to tilt his head into the perfect angle for deepening the kiss, making him growl with pleasure against your mouth.
The pace quickened; his thrusts grew shorter, faster, relentless, hammering that spot inside you that made stars burst behind your closed eyelids. Every movement tore ragged gasps from you, every press brought you closer to the edge. Another finger joined the first on your clit, moving with bold precision and dragging you thereâso close, so fast.
âS-Sir...fuckâ Jimmy, I'm closeââ you gasped against his lips, voice breaking, your free hand clutching his tracksuit without knowing whether you wanted to pull him deeper or push him away.
But right then, the worst happened.
A noise outside: guttural moans, shuffling steps on the debris-strewn asphalt.
Infected.
A small group passed slowly near the car, drawn perhaps by the slight rocking or the scent of sweat and sex. Their shapes loomed against the fogged windows, claws scraping the air, nostrils flaring as they sniffed.
Your moan of pleasure turned into a choked scream of terrorâyou were about to come, your body trembling uncontrollably.
âShh, for fuckin' sake!â Jimmy hissed, eyes flicking to the windows. He pulled back just enough for his thick head to almost slip out, dragging against your sensitive entrance and leaving you empty and clenching for a second and waited.
When the infected veered towards a group of more distant cars, he returned to lowering his gaze on you and, with a grin, he slammed back in hard, hitting that deep spot that curled your toes and rolled your eyes.
One hand flew to cover your mouth before the scream could escape, his ringed fingers pressing over your lips, sealing them tight.
The metallic taste of gold flooded your tongue as he kept driving harder, deeper, utterly unfazedâand probably turned onâby the death surrounding you.
He muffled your moans, turning them into desperate whimpers against his palm while outside the Infected growled louder. One even stopped a few meters away, head tilted as if listening.
The danger made everything unbearably intense, and your traitorous body shattered.
The orgasm crashed over you like a violent wave, your walls clamping down around his hot shaft as you whimpered desperately against his hand, tears of terror and pleasure streaking your cheeks while you arched your back and threw your head back.
You felt your fluids gush in a heavy rush, completely soaking his hard cock still moving inside you.
The wet sound filled your ears, followed by Jimmy's familiar needy groans as he neared his limit, while thin rivulets leaked from where you were joined, wetting his tense balls, dripping onto the worn seat beneath you and pooling warm between your intertwined thighs.
âJaysus, I love when ya do thatââ
The word dissolved into a whine as pleasure overtook him, forcing him to lean forward. He bit you hard just below the jaw before giving in to the heat melting from his core.
His hot cum flooded you in powerful jets, mixing with your release that you felt trickling down the curve of your ass, sliding over your skin in a strangely pleasurable sensation.
He let your legs wrap around his waist, easing the strained position, and looked at you with glassy, satisfied eyes, breath still ragged.
You stayed like that for long minutes, panting, while the Infected drifted away from the car. When Jimmy was sure the danger had passed, he leaned over your exhausted body and brushed delicate, almost reverent kisses across your forehead.
âFuckin' perfect,â he said at the end, fingers tracing the red, bleeding mark on your throat.
A SNAKE IN EDEN'S GARDEN. ( Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal x Reader )
AUTHOR NOTE! suggested by @woantohae ! I tweaked the plot a little to make sense, but kept the basic plot. <3
pairing: Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal x Reader
prompt : You're garden was your own little Eden in the hellscape of the apocalypse, and Jimmy's just found a snake in it.
word count: 1,000+ words
heads up! i had to make a new masterlist because i went over the limit on the other one! here is the link for the new / part 2 one! RIGHT HERE!
âŻâŻâŻâŻâŻâŻâŻâŻâŻâŻâŻâŻ28 YEARS LATER AFTER THE OUTBREAK.
You had been living in the greenhouse for six weeks now, you knew that it was six weeks because you had kept count of it on a yellowed pocket book calendar. It was niceâŻthe greenhouse, or as nice as an old greenhouse could be considering the situation. There was a small hole in the roof where the rain poured inside, the air was always damp and stuck to you which allowed the plants to flourishâŻtowering bushes of tomatoes, potatoes, strawberries, rosemary, and echinacea.Â
You were content with just surviving off the plants, not needing to leave. But, for as much as the greenhouse was flourishing, it didnât change the fact that you felt lonely. It had been too long since you were part of a group. It had been longer since you had seen any infected in the area too. It was just you and your little tucked away garden of Eden. You fell into a routineâŻwake up, trim some ripe vegetables from the bushes, boil some rain water, eat, then rinse and repeat.Â
Until, Christopher. He had stumbled upon your greenhouse, bloody and sobbing for help. It had been so long since you had seen another person, you found yourself offering help too quickly. You took him in, feeding him ripe strawberries and wrapping soaked bandages on his wounds. He savored every second of it, and you didnât correct him. You had been alone for so long, that you just endured it because his bullshit talking was better than the silence.
You endured the comments, âI feel like I owe you one.âÂ
âYou really shouldnât have let me in, because now I wonât leave.â Â
âYou clearly need a leader, someone to protect you. So I guess Iâll stick around once I heal.â
It was all in good nature, right?
Using your pocket knife to peel the potato, you try to avoid Christopher as much as possible, wanting just a moment to yourself. You didnât mind him, or his nonsensical blubbering, you just needed a moment to yourself. The sudden shift to being alone to having someone at your side constantly was drastic, and you found yourself struggling to interact like you once used to. But, even before, when you did have a community, you werenât exactly the most talkative. You found yourself listening and watching, noticing the small thingsâŻwavers in voices, shifts in body language. You couldn't trust people. Not when they could lie to you, when they could kill you.
Placing the skin into the bowl of water, youâd boil them later and find some kind of use for it later, maybe into some kind of dried snack or compost for the soil. Hearing the crunch of soil, you tense up involuntarily at the sound, your jaw clenching tightly. You didnât have to look to already know who it wasâŻChristopher. God, you just wanted to peel your potatoes in peace and quiet. Making his presence known with a loud clearing of his throat, you take a breath in, turning your head to look at him. He had an expecting look on his face, like he was expecting something out of you.
âThere you went.â He grins, âWas looking for you.â
âYes, yeah, um, here I am..you know, preparing food.â You grumble, weakly shrugging.
âSo nice of you, really.â He plops himself down on the ground across from you, stretching out his bad leg. âYouâre kinda acting like my wife.â
âNo, just, no, I am acting like a friend.â You correct, trying to shut down any misunderstanding.
âYou do this for friends?â He chuckles, making you cringe at the sound.
âI would, I would to any other survivors that were here with me.â You nod, âItâs just kinda the thing you do, you know? Take care of each other.âÂ
That was technically not a lie. You would take care of any other survivor, if they asked it, and perhaps, that made you naive. But, you werenât giving him any special treatment, you were just treating him like a person. Shifting your eye back down at the potato, you peel away some skin, gently dropping the skin into the bowl. Maybe, if you hurry up and finish peeling them, heâd leave you alone. Feeling a gentle hand on your knee, you tense up instantly at the touch, your instincts telling you to dig the knife into his throat. You were barely handling being around him, you couldnât handleâŻnor werenât ready for being touched regularly. You probably would not ever.Â
âYeah, yeah.â He nods, âAnd youâve been taking care of me so well.âÂ
âJust being kind.â You tense up, scooting away from him.
âI feel..I feel in a way, that I should repay you.â He smiles, his voice trailing off in a way that you donât like in the slightest.
âJust do your part and heal.â You force out through gritted teeth, every part of you on high alert.
âMy leg may be injured, but I can assure you, the rest of me is capable of doing just about anything.â
âReally?â You tensely chuckle, âWell, you can peel these potatoes while I get the traps to see if we caught anything.âÂ
âWhat?â His face falls, clearly not expecting you to reject him.Â
Shoving the half-peeled potato and pocket knife into his hands, you stand up from the ground, refusing to spare him a second glance. You did not want to be touchedâŻnot by him. You did not want to be around himâŻnot right now. It was too muchâŻhe was too much for you. You needed silence, you needed your space, you needed your solitude once more. You couldnât just jump into the person that you once were before all ofâŠthis. You didnât think that they existed anymore, and you didnât think that theyâd ever be coming back. ( Y/n ) ( L/n )âŻthe law abiding citizen of the UK was gone, now it was just ( Y/n )âŻthe survivor.
Speed walking out of the greenhouse, you pass by the barrels and pots left out to collect rainwater, tiny raindrops rolling out the sides from being overfilled. Youâd have to fill up the bathtub you had and figure out what to do with all the extra water. Something useful. Picking at your nails anxiously, you weave your way through the overgrown sprouts of ivy that hide your little greenhouse from view, the sweet smell of rain filling your nose. The rain had stopped, for now at least, and you welcomed it. You didnât think you could endure being inside any longer. Socializing once again was hard, or maybe it was hard because of him.Â
âI can help you, he says.â You mumble to yourself, âI donât need help, don't need that kind of help. Donât want it, not with you.â
Silence. A lush and beautiful silence greets you back. It was comforting. It was what you wanted so desperately. You didnât want to hear a voice answer back, you wanted the swaying of glass and rustling of leaves from the nearby trees to answer back to you.Â
âShouldnât have taken him in, shouldâve taken him somewhere else.â You mumble, âShouldâve left him in a different manor, check in on him every other day.â
A bird chirps in the distance, followed by the low grumbling of storm clouds coming closer.Â
âCan still leave.â You stare down at your shoes, âCould, but shouldnât. Not many places standing, not much left. He might be the last person for miles. Donât wanna be alone anymore.â
Swallowing the thickening lump in your throat, you keep walking, not stopping until you reach the rotting gate fencing off your greenhouse. Leaning your chin against the wood, you stare at nothing in particular, just basking in the rumbling of storm clouds and birds chirping. Narrowing your eyes at the blur of something in the distance, you take a step closer, hand reach of the knife on your belt. Infected? No, infected would gurgle and shriek. No, this was something else.Â
A loud cackle of laughter fills the air, followed by multiple voices talking over each other. The sound puts you at ease even though it shouldn'tâŻpeopleâŻother people. Chewing on your bottom lip as the laughter draws closer, you hesitate, not sure if you should bold back inside or wait to see if you could catch a glimpse of the cause of the laughter. Peeling away the skin with your teeth, you stay in place, hoping to catch a glimpse of the other people.
âNah, thatâs vile.â One cackles, their light welsh accent prickling your ears.
âMy fuckinâ stomach hurts now!â Another whines, their tone similar to a childâs.
âCanât believe you ate that! I wouldnât even touch it if I had to.âÂ
âUgh, donât fuckinâ puke on me!â Another shrieks, âJimmy!â
âOi! Leave it, the lot of yaâ. Fuckinâ scaring away everything with youâre arguinâ.â A stern voice cuts through, sounding like an exasperated parent.
Watching a group of eight emerge from the lush greenery, you hum under your breath at the sight of their odd appearancesâŻblonde hair and ratty old trackies. They all looked similar from what you could see. It was odd. But, it brought a smile to your face. It had been a long time since you had seen such vibrant clothing, seen people, and seen people who looked happy. Toying with a string of ivy wrapped around the gate, one of the members jumps on the others back, rolling down the hill with loud cackles. Another joins them, fairy wings blowing in the breeze.Â
Hearing the faint calling of your name, you turn your head, your shoe bumping into a bucket unintentionally. Flinching softly at the sound, you glance back at the group, fearful that you may have scared them away. But, they all pause in place, looking like a pack of deer waiting for another sound before they have to bolt. Picking at the skin of your bottom lip harder, you take a step back, stomach bubbling in fear. You hadnât meant to scare them away, you wanted to watch them a little longer. One moves, the purple one, eyes narrowed as he looks over the green before stopping you.
âHello.â He greets, as if it was the most casual thing to do.
âHello.â You weakly mumble back, your voice barely above a whisper.Â
âAh, no need to be afraid, wee lamb.â He grins, âWhere are you from?â
âThe garden.â Your voice cracks, nerves bubbling up at keeping the conversation going.
âEden?â He questions, taking a step closer.Â
The more he inches towards you, the more you pick at your bottom lip. Holding his hands up gently to show he was no threat, you look him over, taking in the details of his face. He had pretty dark blue eyes, with a few bags underneath it. But, who doesn't nowadays? His nose was slightly crooked, it could have been from it being broken in the past. His hand was shoulder-length, blonde and greasy. His teeth were crooked, some cracked and yellowed from not brushing them. But, despite what could have been seen as flaws, you found him to be beautifulâŻlike one of the boys from the scraps of magazines you had. He was different from Christopher, and you liked that.
âHello.â He greets again, his voice gentle.
âHello.â You hum back, finally finding your voice.
âYou live in the Garden, eh?â He rests a gentle hand on the gate between you.
âI do.â You nod, unable to keep your eyes from his.Â
âCan you take us there?â He questions, âAll of us to your Eden?â
âNo.â You shake your head, licking away some blood from your bottom lip.
âNo?â He raises a brow, his lips quirking in amusement.
âYouâll have to leave your weapons, all of you.â You glance to the others over his shoulders, âI donât like violence, enough of it outside, donât need it inside.âÂ
You expected him to argue, to protest heavily. But, he didnâtâŻhe doesnât. Nodding on his head softly in compliance, he gently pats the gate, the others quickly joining his side. Crooked grins spread on their lips, eyes twinkling in a mix of amusement. Some even wave at you, as if they had known you for forever. It surprisingly brings you comfort, one that you never thought that youâd feel ever again. Weakly smiling back at them, he snaps his fingers, motioning for them to drop their weapons where they stand. They obey without hesitation, making you raise a brow.Â
âAye, we will.â
âThank you.â You nod, âIâm making lunch. Would you all like some?â
Ignoring the icy glare from Christopher, you gently pass out bowls of vegetable stew, thankful that the group had brought their own. You had been using an old pot as a bowl for weeks now. Gently smiling at the low murmurs of âthanksâ and âthank youâ from the group, you purposely skip a serving, wanting to make sure each of them got their fill. You could always snack on strawberries or some dried rabbit meat. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you take the next empty bowl from one of the boys, filling it to the brim with chunks of potatoes and tomatoes. Blinding handing the bowl out, you let the group pass it around, more focused on filling as many bowls as possible.Â
âHow long have you been living here?â The girl in blue asks, âItâs pretty.â
âSix weeks. I found it by luck, I have to thank luck for putting a hole in the roof, in creating this place. I would be sleeping in a hole if it wasnât for this place.â You explain, handing out another small bowl.Â
âAye.â Jimmy nods, âOr perhaps, it was the work of a divine being.
âThank you.â The boy in green nods, eagerly chugging the contents of the stew.Â
âYouâre welcome.â You nod, âThereâs more if youâd like seconds, or some fresh strawberries. The garden has been kind and been producing more than I could ever eat on my own.âÂ
âCanât we?â The boy in red questions, looking to Jimmy for approval.
âAye, aye, have your fill. Leave enough for her, wouldnât be kind to let our sweet host here go hungry.â Jimmy nods, his eyes not wavering from you.
Placing the pot of stew down on the table, you turn to grab the flower pot filled with plucked fruits, passing by Christopher. He grabs your arm hard, pulling you into his side. Tensing up at the abrupt touch, you tighten your grip on the flower pot, your jaw clenching softly. You felt like a scolded child, like he was going to whack you with a belt for daring to offer them more food. His hot breath fans your cheek, and you could feel the others eyes on the both of youâŻwatching, waiting to see what would happen. Avoiding eye contact with him, you stare down at the inside of the flower pot, eyeing the strawberries as if they were the most fascinating thing to ever exist.Â
âWhat are you doing?â He hisses, his voice trembling in anger.
âFeeding them.â You whisper, trying to gently shrug him off.
âThey are not guests.â He argues, his grip tightening on your arm.
âThey are.â You argue, âI take care of guests, of those who ask for help. I did the same to youâŻâ
âThat was different.â He argues, shaking his head.
âHow? How is it?â You counter back, âBecause youâre you and they are them? I wonât deny anyone food, nor help. You donât speak for me.â
Yanking your hand away hard from him, you sharply turn on your heels, walking away before he could pull you back. Swallowing the thickening lump in your throat, you gently place the flower pot down between the group, allowing them to gorge on the fruit inside. Letting out excited chirps of âoohâ and âfuck yeahâ, you crack a gentle smile at the sound, watching them all swarm over the flower pot like bees to honey. You had never felt like that with Christopher, only uncomfortable.
Dusting your hands clean on your pants, you look over to Jimmy, raising a brow softly as you find him already staring at you. His brows furrowed, fingers drumming against his knee, a hard to describe look on his face. Offering him a weak smile to try to pretend like your encounter with Christopher had been a friendly one, he doesnât seem convinced, his brows furrowing even more. He look on his face worsensâŻa mix of judgement, concern, anger and something else.
âEverything alright there, lass?â He questions, failing to sound casual.
âMm-hm.â You nod, âI am, it is fine.â
âA bit of tension I see.â He chuckles, âWho is he? Brother? Friend? Youâre husband..?â
âNo one, really.â You explain, âHe came to me a few days ago, asking for help. I helped himâŻam helping him.â
âVery kind of you. You speak so modestly, so humble of it. Truly an angel. So rare to find that nowadays, I almost donât want to leave your garden..â He smiles, making you chuckle.Â
âI am no angel.â
âAh, but you are!â He argues playfully, âI can see those wings of yours hidden by those clothes. But, I do think there is an issue with your garden, though.â
âOh?â You raise a brow, lips curling down into a light frown.
Perhaps, it was silly of you to take his words to heart. But, you were proud of the garden. You had spent so much time watering and tending to it. Sure, you could have patched up the hole in the ceiling. Or changed out the ratty old cushions and bags of soil you had fashioned into a bed. But, you didnât want to destroy the balance of the garden. You only took as much as needed, giving back to the garden in thanks for all it provided youâŻshelter, food, comfort. Offering you a gentle smile, he motions for you to sit, but you donât move from your spot. You didnât want to sit down. You wanted to keep standing, to use the excuse of feeding the others to keep moving and fiddling around. Sitting down beside him would make you feel like you were getting scolded.
âAye, yes, yes.â He nods more seriously, âI can see a snake here.â
âYou have?â You question, raising a brow.
âAye, I have.â
âIt might just be a garden snake. They're actually quite helpful, keeping the rats away from the seeds. Please, do not harm it.â You explain, hoping that he hadnât already taken care of the snake.
âNo, no, not that kind of a snake. I see a black one, one that intends to ruin this garden.â He places a hand on his chest, âIt would be an honor to get rid of it for you.â
âIt would?â You raise a brow, confused by his generosity.
âAye, we canât have a snake in the garden, now can we?â
summary: Born during the first few years of the Rage Virus outbreak, you grew up in a brutal world where survival trumped compassion. In the remains of society, your community saw youth as a liability. Weak, disposable, and easily replaced. You were treated like nothing, sent beyond the gates to scavenge through infected ruins while the lazy and powerful 'overseers' stayed behind. It was all you ever knew, normal really, until the day you crossed paths with a strange bunch of folks wearing wigs, bright colours and eager defiance.
Find Part One here, or Part Eight Here
wc: 7.8k
Not edited.
warnings: post apocalypse, cult dynamics, power dynamics, the Jimmy's being the Jimmy's, religious themes, coarse language, mental health, blood, gore, bruising, abuse, mentions of arson, broken bones, violence, knife violence, mentions of torture. typical cocky Jimmy, kissing.
It felt like the smoke from home had managed to find you, even all the way up here.
Even here in Jimmy's tower in the Sanctuary, the smell of smoke doesn't leave your lungs. You knew it was just the fires from the Jimmy's below, but it felt almost as if it were a mocking, cruel reminder of what lay beyond the rivers divide.Â
Even here, where the air should be crisp with the scent of Scottish rain, all you can taste is charcoal.
You're huddled on the green couch Jimmy keeps up here, a thick wool blanket draped over your shoulders with mismatched socks on your feet.
Your body is still a map of fading purple and yellow bruises with mending ribs - but the physical pain has gone quiet, replaced by a hollow, ringing silence in your chest.
Through the great stone archways of the tower, the storm is a greying veil over the Highlands. You stare out into the vast landscape, where the horizon meets the the hills and then there's nothing but trees.Â
Beneath the low hanging cloud, a blend of white and something else lingers. You can't tell if it's just the mist rolling off the heather, or the final dying breaths of the place you once called home.
It felt like it had been months since you found out about what Jimmy and the others had done, but it had only been a week.
It weighed heavy on your mind, doing nothing but adding to the already sharp pain that lingered behind your eye.Â
The council deserved to fall.
The overseers deserved every bit of what Jimmy and the others no doubt dealt them.
You know that.
But the efficiency of it - the absolute erasure of the only world you knew while you lay unconscious in a silk sheeted bed, makes your skin crawl.
Jimmy surprisingly had respected your need for space, sleeping somewhere other than his room.
If you had it your way, you would've gladly let him have his bed back and slept elsewhere. But as you had come to learn rather quickly, the man was stubborn and set in his ways.
The storm was growing larger by the minute.
Months ago, the rumble of thunder would have you on edge - but today, it just feels like noise.
Lighting flashes, yelling from down in the Sanctuary echoing out, the singular lantern in the tower having gone out hours ago.
It was loud and somehow still the quietest place you had been since you awoke.
Healers were in every few hours to redress your wounds, bring you solid food or medicine. Jimmima would even come in every night to do your hair, and you allowed it, finding the youngest Jimmy to be the only person you could stomach due to her quietness.
There was no gloating with her, no bragging or need to defend everyone's actions with what they all had done, and for that you were grateful.
You weren't really mad at any of the Jimmy's deep down, but you couldn't help but feel hesitant towards them all, especially after hearing how they had rummaged through your things and aided in getting you drunk on your first night.
It felt like you had been apart of some master plan, that everything had already been decided for you the moment you had found Jimmy Ink and Jimmy Snake - or more so, when they found you.
You had felt upon your first meeting with Jimmy that he was always one step ahead, and now you know why.
Jimmy.
He started to send up gifts that you knew were from home.Â
It started small, little trinkets here and there that belonged to the elders in the council. You left them on his side of the bed, not wanting anything to do with them.
You werenât allowed them then, it didnât feel right to have them now.
Eventually the gifts became larger, portraits you knew that had once been inside the concrete walls back in the compound, now being hung up beside the many others in Jimmyâs room.
You knew it was his way of reaffirming his stance.Â
He didn't regret what he did and these were his trophies.
Much like you in a way.
You think of the intimate night you shared before you went back, the way he looked at you, not as a gatherer or a tracker, but as something precious.
But there is a darkness in his devotion.
"Thought I'd find you up here," A voice says over the roar of the wind.Â
You don't turn, you know the cadence well. Still, the sudden sound made you jump, sending a sharp sting into your side.
Jimmy Ink leans against the doorway of the tower, one hand holding her blonde wig down as the wind threatens to take it for a ride. "Everyone's kinda losin' it downstairs, thought you mightâve made a run for it."
That made you turn your head, your eyebrows furrowed as you look at her. You didn't have to ask, and she just lightly snorted, nodding her head.
"Mm, Fox thought maybe you'd legged it all the way back home. Healer came runnin' down, said you weren't in Jimmy's room, but I knew you weren't that stupid⊠well, maybe a little.â
You would be lying if the thought hadn't crossed your mind.
Not to escape or stay there by any means - but just to see what damage Jimmy and the others had actually done.
To see what had survived. "I can barely wipe my own arse, I wouldn't make it even two steps out there."
"Oh I know," Ink's eyes search your face, looking all over and she grimaces slightly, no doubt seeing what was still healing. "S'okay though, and the others won't come up 'ere if you're worried, so your little hide-y hole is safe for now."
Your voice is raspy. "How'd you even know I'd be up here?"
"There's not many places you can hide, even for a castle," Jimmy Ink nods her head towards the other side of the couch. "Up for some visitors?"
You hesitate for just a moment before lifting your blanket, not wanting her to leave and tell the others where you are.
Ink quickly makes her way beside you with a small cheers on her lips, the cushions dipping as she tucks her legs under herself. Her wig lifts again with the wind, and Ink pulls her it off.
The blonde mess is hidden somewhere under the blanket and away from the wind, revealing a ginger buzz cut, and you give her a half smile.Â
Itâs the most human anyone here had looked.
"You want to ask me anything?" She continues, noticing the way your eyes had gone back to looking out to the grounds. "Anything that's bouncing around up there?"
"Would ye even tell me?" You counter, your voice gentle despite the anger behind it. "Everyone here seems far up Jimmy's arse, I don't know if I trust you enough to even bother."
It was harsh, you knew that.Â
But you couldn't help the nagging feeling in your gut that any of the friendships you had made here weren't real.Â
That he was behind them all, telling everyone what to say, how to act, how to feel.
"Ouch," She pulls the blanket up further to her chest, sighing as she leans her head against the couch. "Suppose that's fair, but you don't have to worry about me like that - my minds my own, especially up here with no other listening ears, or listeninâ Jimmyâs I guess. Heâs helped me a lot⊠sure, but Iâm not a complete idiot.â
"Iâm sorry," You look down at your hands, frowning and avoiding her gaze. You believe her, knowing that out of all the Jimmy's, Ink seemed to be the one who got away with more than the others. "Itâs just⊠I don't even know where to begin."
âTracker, I'd probably be questioning everything too," She reassures you, but it does nothing to quieten the anxiety bubbling in your chest. "Sir Jimmy might pull strings here and there, but we all do really care 'bout you, truly."
You just nod, still looking at your hands.Â
Jimmy Ink sees your hesitation, deciding there that she would answer everything you didn't need to ask out loud.
"I guess I should apologise for how everything went down," She adjusts the way she's sitting. "Whilst I or any of the others don't regret doing it and would do it again, I suppose we got a little carried away with it all-"
"Carried away?" You cut her off, your head whipping towards hers. "Is that what you call it?"
Inks hands come out from under the blanket, the pair being held up in defence. "Maybe not the right choice of words butâŠÂ Yeah. It was gonna happen eventually, I just wish you got to be apart of it, we all know you had more reason than anybody else here."
"But while I was out of it? That's fair tae you?"
She just shrugs. "Mm, definitely not Jimmy's best work, but y'gotta look at it from our - his - point of view. That day Shite and Fox brought you in? We thought you were dead, I've never seen someone look soâŠ" Ink's words drift off as she thinks back to that day.
âGone, you looked already gone man. We all thought that Old Nick had already claimed youâŠ. Are you really mad at us for this? For what we did?"
That's the poison in the well.Â
Because you weren't.
"Naw, not really," You feel your eyes betray you, finally filling with tears after what felt like an eternity of silence. Your bottom lip quivers slightly, and you sniff in an attempt to hold it all in. "I'm mad because I'm glad ye did it."
You werenât crying for them, it wasnât sadness for their deaths.
It was a feeling you hadnât experienced for a while now.
Relief.
You look to Ink again, and her eyes widen at seeing your wet eyes and hearing your words. Immediately her arms open as she shuffles closer to you, and the Jimmy in red doesn't hesitate, pulling you into her side in an embrace.Â
There's no sobbing, no dramatic pull at her tracksuit - you just let yourself be held as you come to terms with everything.
Your dad had tried his best to raise you to be soft in a world that required blood, to be the light in the dark and be human.
But the world didn't have space for soft. It demanded the worst, forcing Rage on more than just the infected.Â
You felt like them.
Like a monster.
A monster for knowing that they deserved it and that small, visceral part of you that wishes you did get to participate.
A different kind of monster for still finding yourself falling for the man who ordered and orchestrated it all.
You cling to her, to your friend, finding the affection to still be something you weren't used to. When others had touched you, it usually never ended well, and so you found yourself slowly but surely accepting the gentle touch that was offered.
Ink's hand is on your head, cradling you closer whilst the other pulls the blanket back over where it had fallen off your shoulders. "You can scream if you want," She murmurs in an attempt to joke. "Lord knows you probably need it."
"It's not screaming I need," You mumble into her tracksuit, sniffing again. "I just, I feel wrong Ink. S'like⊠like my minds running away from me and Iâm not actually here.â
"Can tell, you're not even worried 'bout the storm or nothing," She quips back, and you lift your head enough to look at her. She gives an awkward smile once more. "Jimmy told me about all that, only so none of us made you be outside during one, he worries like that."
Of course he did.
"Guess I shouldn't be surprised," Slowly, you bring your head down to rest on her shoulder. "Seems like Jimmy's always ahead of me without even realising."
She nods, not even bothering to argue. "He's actually terrified of you right now, y'know that?"
"How? He's not even seen me since I woke up last."
"Doesn't need to, the healers tell him everything anyway," She chuckles softly. "But it's true, he's scared you'll hate him for what he did, for being exactly who he told you he was."
Her voice was softer towards the end, and you sigh loudly than intended. You knew what Jimmy was capable of, hell, he had even told you in this very tower that he had killed people for less.
Still, Ink continues in a desperate need to defend her and her Lords actions.
"I can't speak for him exactly, but when we saw what they did to you? I mean fucking hell Tracker, your eye looked so mangled, we were basically makin' bets on whether or not you'd be blind if you woke up."
"Cheers."
You didn't miss the way she said IF you woke up.
Were you really that bad?
She chuckles again. "I'm serious, even your ribs man, the bruisin' and the cuts and shit? It was insane," Ink clears her throat. "Jimmy doesn't take kindly to people breaking his things, so we made what they did to you look like bloody charity work."
"I'm not a thing Inky." You miss the way her eyes light up at hearing her nickname from your lips.
"No," She agrees, resting her head on yours. "You're not, but you're the only one here that has made Jimmy feel like he's just a man, not a sir or a lord, or a god even. Whether you realise it or not, that man is devoted to you in more ways than one - I've never seen him act like this with anything.â
"You're just saying that."
"Why? Why would I? What do I gain from it?" She retorts quickly. "I'm not sure if anyone has told you, but I've been with Jimmy since I was eight, if anyone here can read that man, it's me. So trust me, he already thought he had lost you before, but now he's scared more than fuckin' ever."
A crack of thunder shakes the tower, and finally you squeeze Jimmy Ink's hand ever so slightly. Still, the storm outside feels like nothing compared to the quiet devastation brewing.
"Enough about him then," Ink carries on, knowing that she was losing you again to your thoughts. "How are you feeling? Really?â
"Body or head?" You ask, peering up at her through your lashes.Â
"Both is good," She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. Here, without her wig, she looks comfortable. "Sure the ribs aren't feelin' the best."
"Hard to say, hurts tae breathe still but I can walk without doublin' over," You admit, the words catching. "Head? Dunno, all over the place. When I close my eyes I'm either back there getting my head kicked in or I'm picturing everyone up in flames."
"Second parts not bad," She cuts you off, immediately apologising as she does so. "Sorry, too soon?"
"It's okay," For what felt like the first time in awhile, you exhaled with a laugh, your chest moving a little. It hurt, but it felt good to actually find yourself smiling.
"I just feel⊠lost, like I don't know who or what I am anymore. Before you guys, I was just gathering and making sure everyone was fed and happy."
"And now you don't have to worry 'bout that anymore, here you can live how you were meant to. Now you can make sure you're fed and happy. Which you will be, always,"
You believe her.
Ink watches you for a moment, then tilts her head towards the tower bridge connecting to Jimmy's floor. âWill you come downstairs? Talk to him? He's bloody miserable, and when he's miserable, everyone's miserable and he's a pain in the arse to deal with."
"I suppose, when I'm ready though," You say firmly, not yet ready to face him. "I just think I need to stay up here for a wee longer and think about everything⊠Will ye stay with me?"
"Of course, s'long as you don't ignore him forever," She doesn't push further. "Probably good for him though, he let Fox get into his head and convinced him you did a runner."
"Not a bad idea-"
"Don't even think about it." Ink cuts you off again.
"Not like that, I just -I wouldn't mind heading out to the compound, see what's left." You smile.
"I don't think that's a good idea," She grimaces at the thought. "There's nothing left, it'll just be bodies 'n shit, probably reeks.â
"Nothing I'm not used too already."
"Yeah, but these are bodies of people you knew," She reminds you. "Besides, infected are probably holding up in it, the fire would've brought in every runner in Scotland, even the slow-lows have probably made their way there, or as least, eventually they will.â
She chooses not to tell you about the Alpha and the state everyone had left the Overseers in.
"Still," You counter. "I have a right to see it⊠see everyone."
"I can't tell you what to do, but I strongly disagree with it all and would advise you not to do it.â
Her words make your stomach churn, another question lingering on your tongue. "Ink?"
"Yeah?" Her voice is smooth.
"Can you tell me why people are looking at me all weird?" Your voice is even softer, jaw tense. "Talking to me differently, calling me things, even the boys are callin' me ma'am, what changed whilst I was out?"
"Nothing that wasn't already happening behind the scenes," Ink's expression shifts. She doesn't look guilty or confused - guilt was a luxury no one had, but she looked genuinely irked. "I don't think it's for me to say, which is why I think you need to talk to Jimmy - sit him down on his arse and make him tell you everything, he owes you that much."
Make him tell you everything.
You sigh for the umpteenth time, a long dramatic sound.
It all leads back to him.
"Not yet," As if the man himself had heard the two of you, there's a familiar yell belonging to Sir Jimmy on the grounds. You can't decipher it, but he sounds panicked. Both Ink and you look at each other, grinning with a joint chuckle. "Let him grovel for a bit longer."
She just shakes her head, and the two of you sit in a comforting silence, your head resting on her shoulder as you shut your eyes. The rain continues pouring sideways, the lighting flashing across the sky as torches start being lit in the courtyard.
You weren't sure how much time had past, but your eyes open to see darkness outside, the wind still strong as ever. Ink yawns from her side on the couch, elbowing you before she quickly apologises. "Shit, sorry."
"S'okay, it's the other side that's fucked."
Still, your friend looks on worryingly as you attempt to get up. It's a struggle and a huff and she holds her hand out, which you happily take.
"Let's do this then,â You finally agree, and Ink helps you sit up properly on the couch, wincing with you as a wheeze leaves your lungs. "I'll head down, but I don't want an audience, d'ye think-"
"I can tell everyone to fuck off outta the room? Done, don't even worry," She grins, already standing to her feet and finding her wig on the couch. "You worried or anything?"
Were you?
You weren't wanting to scream your head off or anything, but you needed to have all of your questions answered. For too long now, Jimmy has passed the buck and told you that it'll be a story for another time.
You were ready now. "I don't think so, I doubt Jimmy would go through all this just to hate me now."
"Jimmy fuckin' adores you man, you could kill Jimmy Shite by accident and he'd still love you." Ink laughs at her own joke, and you just shake your head, thinking her words over.
Love.
He'd called you love more than once now, even before you had left the Sanctuary for home.
But it's just a name, you've been called bonnie, darling, sweetheart, the lot.
But this wasn't used as a name this time
"Want some help? S'lotta stairs and you're sounding like Jimmy Wrinkle."
"Who the fuck⊠Y'know what? I don't even want to know,â You let Ink help you to your feet, nose scrunching up at the stabbing pain shooting all over. You choose to ignore her mention of Jimmy's feelings. âThe fuckinâ names here are insane.â
Ink laughs louder now, the Jimmy placing her wig carelessly into her pocket before she holds out her arm for you to take. "Jimmy Wrinkle, one of the oldest Jimmy's we got 'ere."
"I said I didn't wanna know." Still, you're grinning with her, and your friend helps you leave the tower.Â
The wind and the chill greeted you with every step, the very cold making you feel every joint in your body as you cursed under your breath. You're inside quicker than it had taken you to walk up to the tower, and you let Ink walk ahead once the door behind you is shut.
She looks back but you wave her off. "I'll be fine from here, gotta get used to walkin anyway. Ye head on down and clear the room for me."
Ink mocks salute. "Yes ma'am."
You give her a blank look, and she just laughs, knowing the term was well and truly a nuisance.
-
The descent from the tower felt like another trek and a half. Every stone step vibrated through your healing body, and you were thankful to be wearing socks this time.
Outside, the thunder softens, almost as if it was a reminder of the potential storm you were going to walk into downstairs.Â
Voices echo faintly, and you notice quickly that there isn't an abundance of Jimmy's you hadn't met before greeting you again.
It was like the first time you had arrived at the Sanctuary all over again, just a few blond heads that you knew well enough greeting your ears.
The voices stop by the time you're on the second floor though, Ink having done her job. By the time you reach the throne room, your breath was shallow and your heart was hammering against your chest.
The door was already half open, and when you step in, Jimmy was already there.
The room felt even more cavernous than usual, lit by the flickering lanterns and the orange glow of the stone fireplace.
Without the others, the room felt off.
Jimmy wasn't on his throne, instead he was pacing across the room. The tiara on his blond hair was slightly askew, his hands flexing as he walks.
Under the light of the fire, his rings sit heavy on his fingers, almost like they were a reminder of what you were here for.
He looks⊠unravelled.Â
The cocky, untouchable lord of the Sanctuary was gone, replaced by a man who looked like he was waiting for the worst. The pacing, the tenseness, the tiredness behind his eyes - he's wearing the anxiety like a tracksuit two sizes too small.
He tries to hide it, but you see it anyway. Your stomach twists, and he looks up the moment the door closes behind you.
He spins around on his heels, and his blue eyes, usually dancing with chaotic light, were wide and bloodshot.
For a second, his mask slips, raw and unguarded relief on his face. "Love," He breaths, his voice cracking. He takes two long strides towards you, his hands reaching out. "I knew ye wouldn't leave again, knew ye wouldn't do that tae us. Come here, let me help y-"
"Jimmy."Â Was all you said, neither a greeting nor a dismissal.Â
He stops dead three metres away, his chest heaving. The sheer relief on his face was nearly painful to look at. He practically melts at the sound of his name, his shoulders dropping, his hands trembling slightly as if he fought the urge to close the distance and bring you into his arms.
"Yes, yes I'm here," He whispers your name, his bravado trying desperately to leak back in through a lopsided, nervous grin. "I'm here, however ye want me, ye want to sit on the throne? S'yours, say the word."
He always did say stupid things when he was nervous.
"Take a seat," You nod your head to the couch closest to the fireplace. "Get comfortable, neither of us are leaving this room 'til I have the truth, all of it."
"Hen-" He tries to speak.
"Now Jimmy."Â
Jimmy lets out a short, breathy laugh. He smooths his tracksuit, his fingers lingering by the bottom as he huffs.
"Thatâs new, I think I like it when you're being bossy," He teases, though his eyes remain desperate. It was clear he was still trying to gain control. "See? I told everyone once those cunts were gone, ye would finally come out of yer shell. No more gatherer, no more wee mouse. You're comfortable now, aren't you? Now that ye don't have to worry."
You just stare at him, waiting for the man to make a move, but he instead steps closer, extending an elbow out. "Let me help love, ye look tired."
"I'm not touching you," You walk past him instead, leaving his arm up and waiting for a body that won't come. "Not until I'm happy with what comes outta that mouth of yours."
He freezes, looking almost like you had slapped him before he recovers with another huff. "I remember ye being very happy with this mouth of mine."
You ignore the way your cheeks warm at the memory, ignoring Jimmy's quip as you sit carefully on one of the couches.
You groan a little at how low the piece of furniture was, looking away from the look Jimmy gives you as he sinks into the armchair opposite.Â
Even through it all, he still looks at you with an intensity you tried to pay no heed too.Â
Worship, hunger, love.
"I've asked so much and you keep telling me 'another time' - well," You shrug, eyeing him down. "Here we are, so you're going tae tell me everything I want to know."
"Or what?" He knows he'll answer everything truthfully, he'd give you anything and everything you asked for.
He just wanted to feel like he still had the ball in his court.
"Don't start doin' that shite, Iâm not in the mood,â You get comfortable, sitting up further as the heat of the fire reaches you. "Home⊠What really happened?"
Jimmy really was enjoying the boldness finally exuding from you, he just wished it didn't take such a harsh 'punishment' to bring it out of you.
"How much d'ye wanna hear? I can get pretty descriptive," He wasn't trying to joke this time, his lips stuck in a frown. "They're all dead love, place is ash, what more d'ye need to know?"
"The overseers," You correct yourself, voice trembling slightly. "Russ, he would've fought hard, I've seen it myself."
Jimmy's expression shifts, the anxiety didn't vanish completely, instead becoming overlaid with a satisfied pride.
He leans back in his own chair, his fingers drumming on the velvet arms of the seat. "Hard to fight when ye overpowered by a whole bunch of people," He says softly. "They all screamed a lot, one of them pissed themselves - can't care enough 'bout them to remember who. Made sure they were all awake and strung up when I took over too, every little cut, every strike, was a debt owed to you that I gladly took."
âTook Russâ fingers, matched every scar on your soft skin to his,â He nods to the healing wounds on your body. âGuess it was hard for him tae fight when it wasnât a young woman.â
Your breathing feels heavier as he continues, your own fingers digging into the fabric of your pants and scratching at the skin beneath. He looks at his hands, twisting the stolen gold bands.
"Shite stabbed one, maybe Finley? Saw Caz too, not sure what ye saw in him but who am I to judge eh?â He sighs as he speaks with almost a singing tune. âJimmy Jimmy and Jones got some others," He then hums as he thinks further back to the day. "Jimmy Fox got a few of the council, lost count eventually."
"And the others?" Your voice cracks. "Not the council, or the overseers, but the others, the gatherers like me? The watchers? Ye killed them too?"
Jimmy's eyes harden, the playfulness vanishing entirely as he leans forward, his elbows on his knees as he tilts his head. "The others?" He repeats, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous hiss. "Ye mean the people who stood and watched while ye got yer head caved in? The ones who turned their heads when ye starved?" He chuckles. "The ones who were happy to leave ye outside in the dark when you were just a wean?"
Your mouth opens to argue, to defend them, but the words die in your throat. You remembered the cold stares, the way it was almost the only entertainment most of them got.
The silence of the compound was always louder than any scream that left your lips.
"None of 'em ever stepped in," Jimmy continues, his gaze unwavering. "Not once did a single soul in that 'home' of yours act right, people from the before who knew what the world used to be like, they weren't innocent my little love - all spectators really. And in my home, that's just not alright."
You sat there, the flickering light casting long shadows across your bruised face. He so badly wanted to cross the small distance and hold you, to say he was sorry that you were hurt, but he couldn't, not until you gave him permission.
"I didn't get a say Jimmy."
"So I spoke for you. I didn't do it to be cruel, but I don't gamble, naw with you," He whispers. "I did it all for you, so that you would never have to look back and wonder if they were comin' to hurt ye again. I burned your past so we can have our future with no worry, is that so wrong hen?"
"I knew I wanted out, I can admit that now," You nod, feeling that familiar pain in your chest. "I wanted it gone, I wanted them gone," Your fingers twist again at your pants. "But I didn't-"
You couldn't finish your own sentence.Â
Didn't what?
Didn't expect it to actually happen?
Didn't expect him to do it?
You didn't expect the relief that could come from such destruction. You felt unworthy. He nods as you struggle to collect the words, being patient as you collect yourself. "It makes me feelâŠ"
"Like a monster?' He finishes for you.
"It makes me feel like I'm not as good as a person as I thought I was."Â
"Welcome to the real world my love," His look lingers for a long moment. "I don't want you good, I want you alive."
You raise your head to study him, the way he's sitting there and trying so hard to appear composed whilst his foot taps restlessly against the floor. The way his eyes flicker down to your ribs like he's able to measure your pain.Â
"I thought I lost you, y'know that?
"By almost dying." You agree but he shakes his head.Â
"That too but, I thought ye hated me." He says with an almost softer tone.
"For what ye did?"
"For being like the men ye ran from." Jimmy admits, and the honesty in it makes you close your eyes.
It feels like hours have passed as you sit in his company, trying your best to speak your mind without giving yourself an even bigger headache.
The fire spits out some ash, the only sound in the room after your heavy silence. You look away from his intense gaze, your eyes wandering all over the walls of the throne room.
The tapestry, the lanterns, and finally the massive, ornate painting that rest against the wall behind Jimmy's throne.
You'd noticed it the first day here, but now with your head clearer and the fog fading from your mind, you looked at it differently.
You think back to the ones in Jimmy's room, the portraits of women as highland warriors and the queens.Â
As if sensing your next question, Jimmy follows your gaze to the painting, humming again. "Beautiful, aren't they?"
"They're not just paintings to you, are they?" You ask, looking back to the man.
Jimmy's expression shifts. The tension vanishes completely, replaced by a genuine, almost boyish beam that reaches his eyes. "They're my guides," He says as if it were obvious, his voice airy and full wonder. "Most were here when we found the place - belonged to the old world. I'd tell everyone, the Jimmy's, all about the before, what I could remember at least,"
"They felt like prophecies, the paintings all had stories that matched us perfectly y'know? Our numbers grew just like the people in the pictures. Then I found the ones with the warrior women, and they all had their followers behind 'em,â
âI told them that somewhere out in the grey, there was a wee warrior who would find us in dire need. Said it at first to keep them all happy, but I said it so many times that I started tae believe it myself."
It was as if he was in a trance. "But then my stories started comin' true, and ye walked into my Sanctuary with my Jimmy's who were in dire need and ye did just that - and IÂ knew I was right, I was waiting for you and ye came."
Your head shakes as you exhale roughly, thinking back to the day you had found Jimmy Ink and Jimmy Snake.
"Those aren't prophecies Jimmy, they're coincidences. You're looking at old clan leaders and queens from hundreds of years ago, they're not us, naw me at least."
Jimmy shrugs, a careless, cocky tilts of his head that sends his tiara wobbling. He didn't look offended, he looked amused, like he knew a secret you weren't ready for.
"So what?" He chuckles again. "They wore crowns and fought with bows and swords just like us no? The world ended to make room for the demons and new warriors."
He gestured broadly to the room, to the sanctuary, and finally to you. You just sat there, taking it all in before you sigh, accepting it.
It was clear he completely believed in what he was saying, and you'd be lying if the passion behind it didn't make you smile. âSo Iâm some queen then, sâthat it? Some divine being in your head?â
âArenât you?â He retorts, and you frown.
âIâm not royalty Jimmy, if this is why people here are calling me maâam and shite, I want it to stop,â You already hated unnecessary attention, and all of this didnât help. âMy name works just fine.â
Jimmy just shrugs. âYouâre my equal and I am the Sir Lord, youâre exactly who youâre meant to be, but if ye want them to stop? I can do that⊠No guarantees though, stubborn bunch our lot.â
Our lot.
âI donât want to be looked at like Iâm anything other than human.â
âHere love? Youâre exactly what theyâve been waiting for, just like me,â He just beams. âHere to guide them, love them, lead them - just like me.â
You donât continue with arguing, seeing that he was nearly bursting with pride.
Jimmy sees the lilt of your lips, his own smile growing. "Anymore questions for me?"
Just one.Â
Technically two.
You nod, and he waves his hand, the very question glinting in the light.
"Will you not wear those rings? At least, not around me," You eye the two gold bands, the king and cross almost a mocking reminder. "I know they're your trophies 'n all that, but I wasn't lying when I said I've been beaten by them enough-"
Jimmy doesn't hesitate, ripping the two off of his fingers and tossing them into the fire beside you both without a second thought.
Your eyes widen at the action, looking to the two pieces of jewellery sitting amongst the wood as Jimmy claps his hands. "Next question love."
"I- Christ Jimmy, ye didn't have to do that," You just watched as the metal heats up before looking back to him. "I just meant I didn't want tae see the-"
"They make you uncomfortable," He shrugs. "Nae bother, I've got more, plenty. What else is in yer perfect little bruised head."
You ignore the jest, "I⊠okay, I was gonna ask if we could take down the paintings in your room-"
"Our."Â He cuts you off with a correction, and you ignore the warmth in your belly at the singular word.
"âŠOur room, the ones from the council, I didn't see them a lot but it just feels weird havin' them watchin' us, like it's bad luck or something."
Jimmy takes everything in with a growing grin. He knows he's got you back, even if you're not in his arms.
You're already talking about your bedroom, about seeing him more enough to worry about his rings and trophies.
"Of course love," Jimmy finally stands, walking over to you slowly before he holds his hand out. "Can I hold ye now? Or am I still banned.â
You eye his hand, now void of any reminders of old men and cruelty.Â
"Please?" He asks again softly, and finally you nod.
His larger hand engulfs yours as he helps you stand, and you're barely on your feet when he's pulling you closer.
His touch is gentle, mindful of your injuries, holding you against him like he's afraid you'll disappear if he's not their to anchor you.
His forehead presses lightly against yours, just shy of your bruised eye. "I'm sorry for any pain I've brought ye," He whispers. "I just love ye so much, I couldn't let anyone whose ever caused ye such grief keep breathing."
Your breath hitches. "You love me? Jimmy ye barely-"
"No," He cuts you off again, his voice still soft despite the certainty. "I know I do, felt it the moment I saw ye that day in here," His eyes look to the right before back to you. "And I know ye feel it too, even if you don't realise it yet."
Your eyes close, not knowing how to speak. Truthfully there were feelings for the man that you couldn't decipher, feelings you talked up to be appreciation for everything he had done for you.
But you knew the truth.Â
Devotion, warmth, protection.
It all meant the same thing at the end of the day.Â
"Ye don't have to say it back," Jimmy continues. "I already know, yer eyes do it for you."
"Do they now?" You quip back as you open them, looking at him as he grins.
"When they're not looking like they want to rip my baws off and feed 'em to me, yes." He's laughing before he can even get the sentence out, and you chuckle with him, careful not to hurt yourself.
"Youâre proper mad," You hum, but the conviction was gone. "I'd never."
Jimmy reaches up, his thumb grazing your cheekbone, careful again of where it hurts. His touch was electric, and you'd almost forgotten the very feel.
You look at his mouth, then back to those burning blue eyes, and for a moment, the morality of everything that had happened felt small.Â
It all felt drowned out by the sheer, terrifying weight of actually being needed and loved this much.
You close the final inch.
When your lips meet his, Jimmy doesn't just kiss you. He sighs into it, a ragged desperate sound of a man who hid his fear behind a playful demeanour.
It wasn't confident, it was hungry and needy, his hands tangling into your hair and the back of your head with a possessive grip that told you he would never let you go again.
It hurt, but you ignored it the best you could, letting the heat from his touch hide any ounce of discomfort in case he stopped. He tasted like berries, something sweet.
There was only the two of you, the scratch of his stubble against your skin, one of his hands pulling you almost flush against him.
Only there did you accidentally wheeze out from the pain, and Jimmy pulls back just a fraction, his forehead resting against yours once again.
"Sorry âbout that.â He murmurs, but his smile doesn't drop.
"Idiot." Is all you say, and he nods.
"Seems I do a lot of stupid things when it comes tae you."Â Jimmy tilts your head again, bringing his lips back to yours in a more gentle way.
It's just the two of you in the room under the watchful eyes of painted figures.
That, and the blond wigs who watch from the door in silence, punching each other with grins as they see their two leaders reconnect.
summary: Born during the first few years of the Rage Virus outbreak, you grew up in a brutal world where survival trumped compassion. In the remains of society, your community saw youth as a liability. Weak, disposable, and easily replaced. You were treated like nothing, sent beyond the gates to scavenge through infected ruins while the lazy and powerful 'overseers' stayed behind. It was all you ever knew, normal really, until the day you crossed paths with a strange bunch of folks wearing wigs, bright colours and eager defiance.
Find Part One here, or Part Eight Here
wc: 7.8k
Not edited.
warnings: post apocalypse, cult dynamics, power dynamics, the Jimmy's being the Jimmy's, religious themes, coarse language, mental health, blood, gore, bruising, abuse, mentions of arson, broken bones, violence, knife violence, mentions of torture. typical cocky Jimmy, kissing.
It felt like the smoke from home had managed to find you, even all the way up here.
Even here in Jimmy's tower in the Sanctuary, the smell of smoke doesn't leave your lungs. You knew it was just the fires from the Jimmy's below, but it felt almost as if it were a mocking, cruel reminder of what lay beyond the rivers divide.Â
Even here, where the air should be crisp with the scent of Scottish rain, all you can taste is charcoal.
You're huddled on the green couch Jimmy keeps up here, a thick wool blanket draped over your shoulders with mismatched socks on your feet.
Your body is still a map of fading purple and yellow bruises with mending ribs - but the physical pain has gone quiet, replaced by a hollow, ringing silence in your chest.
Through the great stone archways of the tower, the storm is a greying veil over the Highlands. You stare out into the vast landscape, where the horizon meets the the hills and then there's nothing but trees.Â
Beneath the low hanging cloud, a blend of white and something else lingers. You can't tell if it's just the mist rolling off the heather, or the final dying breaths of the place you once called home.
It felt like it had been months since you found out about what Jimmy and the others had done, but it had only been a week.
It weighed heavy on your mind, doing nothing but adding to the already sharp pain that lingered behind your eye.Â
The council deserved to fall.
The overseers deserved every bit of what Jimmy and the others no doubt dealt them.
You know that.
But the efficiency of it - the absolute erasure of the only world you knew while you lay unconscious in a silk sheeted bed, makes your skin crawl.
Jimmy surprisingly had respected your need for space, sleeping somewhere other than his room.
If you had it your way, you would've gladly let him have his bed back and slept elsewhere. But as you had come to learn rather quickly, the man was stubborn and set in his ways.
The storm was growing larger by the minute.
Months ago, the rumble of thunder would have you on edge - but today, it just feels like noise.
Lighting flashes, yelling from down in the Sanctuary echoing out, the singular lantern in the tower having gone out hours ago.
It was loud and somehow still the quietest place you had been since you awoke.
Healers were in every few hours to redress your wounds, bring you solid food or medicine. Jimmima would even come in every night to do your hair, and you allowed it, finding the youngest Jimmy to be the only person you could stomach due to her quietness.
There was no gloating with her, no bragging or need to defend everyone's actions with what they all had done, and for that you were grateful.
You weren't really mad at any of the Jimmy's deep down, but you couldn't help but feel hesitant towards them all, especially after hearing how they had rummaged through your things and aided in getting you drunk on your first night.
It felt like you had been apart of some master plan, that everything had already been decided for you the moment you had found Jimmy Ink and Jimmy Snake - or more so, when they found you.
You had felt upon your first meeting with Jimmy that he was always one step ahead, and now you know why.
Jimmy.
He started to send up gifts that you knew were from home.Â
It started small, little trinkets here and there that belonged to the elders in the council. You left them on his side of the bed, not wanting anything to do with them.
You werenât allowed them then, it didnât feel right to have them now.
Eventually the gifts became larger, portraits you knew that had once been inside the concrete walls back in the compound, now being hung up beside the many others in Jimmyâs room.
You knew it was his way of reaffirming his stance.Â
He didn't regret what he did and these were his trophies.
Much like you in a way.
You think of the intimate night you shared before you went back, the way he looked at you, not as a gatherer or a tracker, but as something precious.
But there is a darkness in his devotion.
"Thought I'd find you up here," A voice says over the roar of the wind.Â
You don't turn, you know the cadence well. Still, the sudden sound made you jump, sending a sharp sting into your side.
Jimmy Ink leans against the doorway of the tower, one hand holding her blonde wig down as the wind threatens to take it for a ride. "Everyone's kinda losin' it downstairs, thought you mightâve made a run for it."
That made you turn your head, your eyebrows furrowed as you look at her. You didn't have to ask, and she just lightly snorted, nodding her head.
"Mm, Fox thought maybe you'd legged it all the way back home. Healer came runnin' down, said you weren't in Jimmy's room, but I knew you weren't that stupid⊠well, maybe a little.â
You would be lying if the thought hadn't crossed your mind.
Not to escape or stay there by any means - but just to see what damage Jimmy and the others had actually done.
To see what had survived. "I can barely wipe my own arse, I wouldn't make it even two steps out there."
"Oh I know," Ink's eyes search your face, looking all over and she grimaces slightly, no doubt seeing what was still healing. "S'okay though, and the others won't come up 'ere if you're worried, so your little hide-y hole is safe for now."
Your voice is raspy. "How'd you even know I'd be up here?"
"There's not many places you can hide, even for a castle," Jimmy Ink nods her head towards the other side of the couch. "Up for some visitors?"
You hesitate for just a moment before lifting your blanket, not wanting her to leave and tell the others where you are.
Ink quickly makes her way beside you with a small cheers on her lips, the cushions dipping as she tucks her legs under herself. Her wig lifts again with the wind, and Ink pulls her it off.
The blonde mess is hidden somewhere under the blanket and away from the wind, revealing a ginger buzz cut, and you give her a half smile.Â
Itâs the most human anyone here had looked.
"You want to ask me anything?" She continues, noticing the way your eyes had gone back to looking out to the grounds. "Anything that's bouncing around up there?"
"Would ye even tell me?" You counter, your voice gentle despite the anger behind it. "Everyone here seems far up Jimmy's arse, I don't know if I trust you enough to even bother."
It was harsh, you knew that.Â
But you couldn't help the nagging feeling in your gut that any of the friendships you had made here weren't real.Â
That he was behind them all, telling everyone what to say, how to act, how to feel.
"Ouch," She pulls the blanket up further to her chest, sighing as she leans her head against the couch. "Suppose that's fair, but you don't have to worry about me like that - my minds my own, especially up here with no other listening ears, or listeninâ Jimmyâs I guess. Heâs helped me a lot⊠sure, but Iâm not a complete idiot.â
"Iâm sorry," You look down at your hands, frowning and avoiding her gaze. You believe her, knowing that out of all the Jimmy's, Ink seemed to be the one who got away with more than the others. "Itâs just⊠I don't even know where to begin."
âTracker, I'd probably be questioning everything too," She reassures you, but it does nothing to quieten the anxiety bubbling in your chest. "Sir Jimmy might pull strings here and there, but we all do really care 'bout you, truly."
You just nod, still looking at your hands.Â
Jimmy Ink sees your hesitation, deciding there that she would answer everything you didn't need to ask out loud.
"I guess I should apologise for how everything went down," She adjusts the way she's sitting. "Whilst I or any of the others don't regret doing it and would do it again, I suppose we got a little carried away with it all-"
"Carried away?" You cut her off, your head whipping towards hers. "Is that what you call it?"
Inks hands come out from under the blanket, the pair being held up in defence. "Maybe not the right choice of words butâŠÂ Yeah. It was gonna happen eventually, I just wish you got to be apart of it, we all know you had more reason than anybody else here."
"But while I was out of it? That's fair tae you?"
She just shrugs. "Mm, definitely not Jimmy's best work, but y'gotta look at it from our - his - point of view. That day Shite and Fox brought you in? We thought you were dead, I've never seen someone look soâŠ" Ink's words drift off as she thinks back to that day.
âGone, you looked already gone man. We all thought that Old Nick had already claimed youâŠ. Are you really mad at us for this? For what we did?"
That's the poison in the well.Â
Because you weren't.
"Naw, not really," You feel your eyes betray you, finally filling with tears after what felt like an eternity of silence. Your bottom lip quivers slightly, and you sniff in an attempt to hold it all in. "I'm mad because I'm glad ye did it."
You werenât crying for them, it wasnât sadness for their deaths.
It was a feeling you hadnât experienced for a while now.
Relief.
You look to Ink again, and her eyes widen at seeing your wet eyes and hearing your words. Immediately her arms open as she shuffles closer to you, and the Jimmy in red doesn't hesitate, pulling you into her side in an embrace.Â
There's no sobbing, no dramatic pull at her tracksuit - you just let yourself be held as you come to terms with everything.
Your dad had tried his best to raise you to be soft in a world that required blood, to be the light in the dark and be human.
But the world didn't have space for soft. It demanded the worst, forcing Rage on more than just the infected.Â
You felt like them.
Like a monster.
A monster for knowing that they deserved it and that small, visceral part of you that wishes you did get to participate.
A different kind of monster for still finding yourself falling for the man who ordered and orchestrated it all.
You cling to her, to your friend, finding the affection to still be something you weren't used to. When others had touched you, it usually never ended well, and so you found yourself slowly but surely accepting the gentle touch that was offered.
Ink's hand is on your head, cradling you closer whilst the other pulls the blanket back over where it had fallen off your shoulders. "You can scream if you want," She murmurs in an attempt to joke. "Lord knows you probably need it."
"It's not screaming I need," You mumble into her tracksuit, sniffing again. "I just, I feel wrong Ink. S'like⊠like my minds running away from me and Iâm not actually here.â
"Can tell, you're not even worried 'bout the storm or nothing," She quips back, and you lift your head enough to look at her. She gives an awkward smile once more. "Jimmy told me about all that, only so none of us made you be outside during one, he worries like that."
Of course he did.
"Guess I shouldn't be surprised," Slowly, you bring your head down to rest on her shoulder. "Seems like Jimmy's always ahead of me without even realising."
She nods, not even bothering to argue. "He's actually terrified of you right now, y'know that?"
"How? He's not even seen me since I woke up last."
"Doesn't need to, the healers tell him everything anyway," She chuckles softly. "But it's true, he's scared you'll hate him for what he did, for being exactly who he told you he was."
Her voice was softer towards the end, and you sigh loudly than intended. You knew what Jimmy was capable of, hell, he had even told you in this very tower that he had killed people for less.
Still, Ink continues in a desperate need to defend her and her Lords actions.
"I can't speak for him exactly, but when we saw what they did to you? I mean fucking hell Tracker, your eye looked so mangled, we were basically makin' bets on whether or not you'd be blind if you woke up."
"Cheers."
You didn't miss the way she said IF you woke up.
Were you really that bad?
She chuckles again. "I'm serious, even your ribs man, the bruisin' and the cuts and shit? It was insane," Ink clears her throat. "Jimmy doesn't take kindly to people breaking his things, so we made what they did to you look like bloody charity work."
"I'm not a thing Inky." You miss the way her eyes light up at hearing her nickname from your lips.
"No," She agrees, resting her head on yours. "You're not, but you're the only one here that has made Jimmy feel like he's just a man, not a sir or a lord, or a god even. Whether you realise it or not, that man is devoted to you in more ways than one - I've never seen him act like this with anything.â
"You're just saying that."
"Why? Why would I? What do I gain from it?" She retorts quickly. "I'm not sure if anyone has told you, but I've been with Jimmy since I was eight, if anyone here can read that man, it's me. So trust me, he already thought he had lost you before, but now he's scared more than fuckin' ever."
A crack of thunder shakes the tower, and finally you squeeze Jimmy Ink's hand ever so slightly. Still, the storm outside feels like nothing compared to the quiet devastation brewing.
"Enough about him then," Ink carries on, knowing that she was losing you again to your thoughts. "How are you feeling? Really?â
"Body or head?" You ask, peering up at her through your lashes.Â
"Both is good," She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. Here, without her wig, she looks comfortable. "Sure the ribs aren't feelin' the best."
"Hard to say, hurts tae breathe still but I can walk without doublin' over," You admit, the words catching. "Head? Dunno, all over the place. When I close my eyes I'm either back there getting my head kicked in or I'm picturing everyone up in flames."
"Second parts not bad," She cuts you off, immediately apologising as she does so. "Sorry, too soon?"
"It's okay," For what felt like the first time in awhile, you exhaled with a laugh, your chest moving a little. It hurt, but it felt good to actually find yourself smiling.
"I just feel⊠lost, like I don't know who or what I am anymore. Before you guys, I was just gathering and making sure everyone was fed and happy."
"And now you don't have to worry 'bout that anymore, here you can live how you were meant to. Now you can make sure you're fed and happy. Which you will be, always,"
You believe her.
Ink watches you for a moment, then tilts her head towards the tower bridge connecting to Jimmy's floor. âWill you come downstairs? Talk to him? He's bloody miserable, and when he's miserable, everyone's miserable and he's a pain in the arse to deal with."
"I suppose, when I'm ready though," You say firmly, not yet ready to face him. "I just think I need to stay up here for a wee longer and think about everything⊠Will ye stay with me?"
"Of course, s'long as you don't ignore him forever," She doesn't push further. "Probably good for him though, he let Fox get into his head and convinced him you did a runner."
"Not a bad idea-"
"Don't even think about it." Ink cuts you off again.
"Not like that, I just -I wouldn't mind heading out to the compound, see what's left." You smile.
"I don't think that's a good idea," She grimaces at the thought. "There's nothing left, it'll just be bodies 'n shit, probably reeks.â
"Nothing I'm not used too already."
"Yeah, but these are bodies of people you knew," She reminds you. "Besides, infected are probably holding up in it, the fire would've brought in every runner in Scotland, even the slow-lows have probably made their way there, or as least, eventually they will.â
She chooses not to tell you about the Alpha and the state everyone had left the Overseers in.
"Still," You counter. "I have a right to see it⊠see everyone."
"I can't tell you what to do, but I strongly disagree with it all and would advise you not to do it.â
Her words make your stomach churn, another question lingering on your tongue. "Ink?"
"Yeah?" Her voice is smooth.
"Can you tell me why people are looking at me all weird?" Your voice is even softer, jaw tense. "Talking to me differently, calling me things, even the boys are callin' me ma'am, what changed whilst I was out?"
"Nothing that wasn't already happening behind the scenes," Ink's expression shifts. She doesn't look guilty or confused - guilt was a luxury no one had, but she looked genuinely irked. "I don't think it's for me to say, which is why I think you need to talk to Jimmy - sit him down on his arse and make him tell you everything, he owes you that much."
Make him tell you everything.
You sigh for the umpteenth time, a long dramatic sound.
It all leads back to him.
"Not yet," As if the man himself had heard the two of you, there's a familiar yell belonging to Sir Jimmy on the grounds. You can't decipher it, but he sounds panicked. Both Ink and you look at each other, grinning with a joint chuckle. "Let him grovel for a bit longer."
She just shakes her head, and the two of you sit in a comforting silence, your head resting on her shoulder as you shut your eyes. The rain continues pouring sideways, the lighting flashing across the sky as torches start being lit in the courtyard.
You weren't sure how much time had past, but your eyes open to see darkness outside, the wind still strong as ever. Ink yawns from her side on the couch, elbowing you before she quickly apologises. "Shit, sorry."
"S'okay, it's the other side that's fucked."
Still, your friend looks on worryingly as you attempt to get up. It's a struggle and a huff and she holds her hand out, which you happily take.
"Let's do this then,â You finally agree, and Ink helps you sit up properly on the couch, wincing with you as a wheeze leaves your lungs. "I'll head down, but I don't want an audience, d'ye think-"
"I can tell everyone to fuck off outta the room? Done, don't even worry," She grins, already standing to her feet and finding her wig on the couch. "You worried or anything?"
Were you?
You weren't wanting to scream your head off or anything, but you needed to have all of your questions answered. For too long now, Jimmy has passed the buck and told you that it'll be a story for another time.
You were ready now. "I don't think so, I doubt Jimmy would go through all this just to hate me now."
"Jimmy fuckin' adores you man, you could kill Jimmy Shite by accident and he'd still love you." Ink laughs at her own joke, and you just shake your head, thinking her words over.
Love.
He'd called you love more than once now, even before you had left the Sanctuary for home.
But it's just a name, you've been called bonnie, darling, sweetheart, the lot.
But this wasn't used as a name this time
"Want some help? S'lotta stairs and you're sounding like Jimmy Wrinkle."
"Who the fuck⊠Y'know what? I don't even want to know,â You let Ink help you to your feet, nose scrunching up at the stabbing pain shooting all over. You choose to ignore her mention of Jimmy's feelings. âThe fuckinâ names here are insane.â
Ink laughs louder now, the Jimmy placing her wig carelessly into her pocket before she holds out her arm for you to take. "Jimmy Wrinkle, one of the oldest Jimmy's we got 'ere."
"I said I didn't wanna know." Still, you're grinning with her, and your friend helps you leave the tower.Â
The wind and the chill greeted you with every step, the very cold making you feel every joint in your body as you cursed under your breath. You're inside quicker than it had taken you to walk up to the tower, and you let Ink walk ahead once the door behind you is shut.
She looks back but you wave her off. "I'll be fine from here, gotta get used to walkin anyway. Ye head on down and clear the room for me."
Ink mocks salute. "Yes ma'am."
You give her a blank look, and she just laughs, knowing the term was well and truly a nuisance.
-
The descent from the tower felt like another trek and a half. Every stone step vibrated through your healing body, and you were thankful to be wearing socks this time.
Outside, the thunder softens, almost as if it was a reminder of the potential storm you were going to walk into downstairs.Â
Voices echo faintly, and you notice quickly that there isn't an abundance of Jimmy's you hadn't met before greeting you again.
It was like the first time you had arrived at the Sanctuary all over again, just a few blond heads that you knew well enough greeting your ears.
The voices stop by the time you're on the second floor though, Ink having done her job. By the time you reach the throne room, your breath was shallow and your heart was hammering against your chest.
The door was already half open, and when you step in, Jimmy was already there.
The room felt even more cavernous than usual, lit by the flickering lanterns and the orange glow of the stone fireplace.
Without the others, the room felt off.
Jimmy wasn't on his throne, instead he was pacing across the room. The tiara on his blond hair was slightly askew, his hands flexing as he walks.
Under the light of the fire, his rings sit heavy on his fingers, almost like they were a reminder of what you were here for.
He looks⊠unravelled.Â
The cocky, untouchable lord of the Sanctuary was gone, replaced by a man who looked like he was waiting for the worst. The pacing, the tenseness, the tiredness behind his eyes - he's wearing the anxiety like a tracksuit two sizes too small.
He tries to hide it, but you see it anyway. Your stomach twists, and he looks up the moment the door closes behind you.
He spins around on his heels, and his blue eyes, usually dancing with chaotic light, were wide and bloodshot.
For a second, his mask slips, raw and unguarded relief on his face. "Love," He breaths, his voice cracking. He takes two long strides towards you, his hands reaching out. "I knew ye wouldn't leave again, knew ye wouldn't do that tae us. Come here, let me help y-"
"Jimmy."Â Was all you said, neither a greeting nor a dismissal.Â
He stops dead three metres away, his chest heaving. The sheer relief on his face was nearly painful to look at. He practically melts at the sound of his name, his shoulders dropping, his hands trembling slightly as if he fought the urge to close the distance and bring you into his arms.
"Yes, yes I'm here," He whispers your name, his bravado trying desperately to leak back in through a lopsided, nervous grin. "I'm here, however ye want me, ye want to sit on the throne? S'yours, say the word."
He always did say stupid things when he was nervous.
"Take a seat," You nod your head to the couch closest to the fireplace. "Get comfortable, neither of us are leaving this room 'til I have the truth, all of it."
"Hen-" He tries to speak.
"Now Jimmy."Â
Jimmy lets out a short, breathy laugh. He smooths his tracksuit, his fingers lingering by the bottom as he huffs.
"Thatâs new, I think I like it when you're being bossy," He teases, though his eyes remain desperate. It was clear he was still trying to gain control. "See? I told everyone once those cunts were gone, ye would finally come out of yer shell. No more gatherer, no more wee mouse. You're comfortable now, aren't you? Now that ye don't have to worry."
You just stare at him, waiting for the man to make a move, but he instead steps closer, extending an elbow out. "Let me help love, ye look tired."
"I'm not touching you," You walk past him instead, leaving his arm up and waiting for a body that won't come. "Not until I'm happy with what comes outta that mouth of yours."
He freezes, looking almost like you had slapped him before he recovers with another huff. "I remember ye being very happy with this mouth of mine."
You ignore the way your cheeks warm at the memory, ignoring Jimmy's quip as you sit carefully on one of the couches.
You groan a little at how low the piece of furniture was, looking away from the look Jimmy gives you as he sinks into the armchair opposite.Â
Even through it all, he still looks at you with an intensity you tried to pay no heed too.Â
Worship, hunger, love.
"I've asked so much and you keep telling me 'another time' - well," You shrug, eyeing him down. "Here we are, so you're going tae tell me everything I want to know."
"Or what?" He knows he'll answer everything truthfully, he'd give you anything and everything you asked for.
He just wanted to feel like he still had the ball in his court.
"Don't start doin' that shite, Iâm not in the mood,â You get comfortable, sitting up further as the heat of the fire reaches you. "Home⊠What really happened?"
Jimmy really was enjoying the boldness finally exuding from you, he just wished it didn't take such a harsh 'punishment' to bring it out of you.
"How much d'ye wanna hear? I can get pretty descriptive," He wasn't trying to joke this time, his lips stuck in a frown. "They're all dead love, place is ash, what more d'ye need to know?"
"The overseers," You correct yourself, voice trembling slightly. "Russ, he would've fought hard, I've seen it myself."
Jimmy's expression shifts, the anxiety didn't vanish completely, instead becoming overlaid with a satisfied pride.
He leans back in his own chair, his fingers drumming on the velvet arms of the seat. "Hard to fight when ye overpowered by a whole bunch of people," He says softly. "They all screamed a lot, one of them pissed themselves - can't care enough 'bout them to remember who. Made sure they were all awake and strung up when I took over too, every little cut, every strike, was a debt owed to you that I gladly took."
âTook Russâ fingers, matched every scar on your soft skin to his,â He nods to the healing wounds on your body. âGuess it was hard for him tae fight when it wasnât a young woman.â
Your breathing feels heavier as he continues, your own fingers digging into the fabric of your pants and scratching at the skin beneath. He looks at his hands, twisting the stolen gold bands.
"Shite stabbed one, maybe Finley? Saw Caz too, not sure what ye saw in him but who am I to judge eh?â He sighs as he speaks with almost a singing tune. âJimmy Jimmy and Jones got some others," He then hums as he thinks further back to the day. "Jimmy Fox got a few of the council, lost count eventually."
"And the others?" Your voice cracks. "Not the council, or the overseers, but the others, the gatherers like me? The watchers? Ye killed them too?"
Jimmy's eyes harden, the playfulness vanishing entirely as he leans forward, his elbows on his knees as he tilts his head. "The others?" He repeats, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous hiss. "Ye mean the people who stood and watched while ye got yer head caved in? The ones who turned their heads when ye starved?" He chuckles. "The ones who were happy to leave ye outside in the dark when you were just a wean?"
Your mouth opens to argue, to defend them, but the words die in your throat. You remembered the cold stares, the way it was almost the only entertainment most of them got.
The silence of the compound was always louder than any scream that left your lips.
"None of 'em ever stepped in," Jimmy continues, his gaze unwavering. "Not once did a single soul in that 'home' of yours act right, people from the before who knew what the world used to be like, they weren't innocent my little love - all spectators really. And in my home, that's just not alright."
You sat there, the flickering light casting long shadows across your bruised face. He so badly wanted to cross the small distance and hold you, to say he was sorry that you were hurt, but he couldn't, not until you gave him permission.
"I didn't get a say Jimmy."
"So I spoke for you. I didn't do it to be cruel, but I don't gamble, naw with you," He whispers. "I did it all for you, so that you would never have to look back and wonder if they were comin' to hurt ye again. I burned your past so we can have our future with no worry, is that so wrong hen?"
"I knew I wanted out, I can admit that now," You nod, feeling that familiar pain in your chest. "I wanted it gone, I wanted them gone," Your fingers twist again at your pants. "But I didn't-"
You couldn't finish your own sentence.Â
Didn't what?
Didn't expect it to actually happen?
Didn't expect him to do it?
You didn't expect the relief that could come from such destruction. You felt unworthy. He nods as you struggle to collect the words, being patient as you collect yourself. "It makes me feelâŠ"
"Like a monster?' He finishes for you.
"It makes me feel like I'm not as good as a person as I thought I was."Â
"Welcome to the real world my love," His look lingers for a long moment. "I don't want you good, I want you alive."
You raise your head to study him, the way he's sitting there and trying so hard to appear composed whilst his foot taps restlessly against the floor. The way his eyes flicker down to your ribs like he's able to measure your pain.Â
"I thought I lost you, y'know that?
"By almost dying." You agree but he shakes his head.Â
"That too but, I thought ye hated me." He says with an almost softer tone.
"For what ye did?"
"For being like the men ye ran from." Jimmy admits, and the honesty in it makes you close your eyes.
It feels like hours have passed as you sit in his company, trying your best to speak your mind without giving yourself an even bigger headache.
The fire spits out some ash, the only sound in the room after your heavy silence. You look away from his intense gaze, your eyes wandering all over the walls of the throne room.
The tapestry, the lanterns, and finally the massive, ornate painting that rest against the wall behind Jimmy's throne.
You'd noticed it the first day here, but now with your head clearer and the fog fading from your mind, you looked at it differently.
You think back to the ones in Jimmy's room, the portraits of women as highland warriors and the queens.Â
As if sensing your next question, Jimmy follows your gaze to the painting, humming again. "Beautiful, aren't they?"
"They're not just paintings to you, are they?" You ask, looking back to the man.
Jimmy's expression shifts. The tension vanishes completely, replaced by a genuine, almost boyish beam that reaches his eyes. "They're my guides," He says as if it were obvious, his voice airy and full wonder. "Most were here when we found the place - belonged to the old world. I'd tell everyone, the Jimmy's, all about the before, what I could remember at least,"
"They felt like prophecies, the paintings all had stories that matched us perfectly y'know? Our numbers grew just like the people in the pictures. Then I found the ones with the warrior women, and they all had their followers behind 'em,â
âI told them that somewhere out in the grey, there was a wee warrior who would find us in dire need. Said it at first to keep them all happy, but I said it so many times that I started tae believe it myself."
It was as if he was in a trance. "But then my stories started comin' true, and ye walked into my Sanctuary with my Jimmy's who were in dire need and ye did just that - and IÂ knew I was right, I was waiting for you and ye came."
Your head shakes as you exhale roughly, thinking back to the day you had found Jimmy Ink and Jimmy Snake.
"Those aren't prophecies Jimmy, they're coincidences. You're looking at old clan leaders and queens from hundreds of years ago, they're not us, naw me at least."
Jimmy shrugs, a careless, cocky tilts of his head that sends his tiara wobbling. He didn't look offended, he looked amused, like he knew a secret you weren't ready for.
"So what?" He chuckles again. "They wore crowns and fought with bows and swords just like us no? The world ended to make room for the demons and new warriors."
He gestured broadly to the room, to the sanctuary, and finally to you. You just sat there, taking it all in before you sigh, accepting it.
It was clear he completely believed in what he was saying, and you'd be lying if the passion behind it didn't make you smile. âSo Iâm some queen then, sâthat it? Some divine being in your head?â
âArenât you?â He retorts, and you frown.
âIâm not royalty Jimmy, if this is why people here are calling me maâam and shite, I want it to stop,â You already hated unnecessary attention, and all of this didnât help. âMy name works just fine.â
Jimmy just shrugs. âYouâre my equal and I am the Sir Lord, youâre exactly who youâre meant to be, but if ye want them to stop? I can do that⊠No guarantees though, stubborn bunch our lot.â
Our lot.
âI donât want to be looked at like Iâm anything other than human.â
âHere love? Youâre exactly what theyâve been waiting for, just like me,â He just beams. âHere to guide them, love them, lead them - just like me.â
You donât continue with arguing, seeing that he was nearly bursting with pride.
Jimmy sees the lilt of your lips, his own smile growing. "Anymore questions for me?"
Just one.Â
Technically two.
You nod, and he waves his hand, the very question glinting in the light.
"Will you not wear those rings? At least, not around me," You eye the two gold bands, the king and cross almost a mocking reminder. "I know they're your trophies 'n all that, but I wasn't lying when I said I've been beaten by them enough-"
Jimmy doesn't hesitate, ripping the two off of his fingers and tossing them into the fire beside you both without a second thought.
Your eyes widen at the action, looking to the two pieces of jewellery sitting amongst the wood as Jimmy claps his hands. "Next question love."
"I- Christ Jimmy, ye didn't have to do that," You just watched as the metal heats up before looking back to him. "I just meant I didn't want tae see the-"
"They make you uncomfortable," He shrugs. "Nae bother, I've got more, plenty. What else is in yer perfect little bruised head."
You ignore the jest, "I⊠okay, I was gonna ask if we could take down the paintings in your room-"
"Our."Â He cuts you off with a correction, and you ignore the warmth in your belly at the singular word.
"âŠOur room, the ones from the council, I didn't see them a lot but it just feels weird havin' them watchin' us, like it's bad luck or something."
Jimmy takes everything in with a growing grin. He knows he's got you back, even if you're not in his arms.
You're already talking about your bedroom, about seeing him more enough to worry about his rings and trophies.
"Of course love," Jimmy finally stands, walking over to you slowly before he holds his hand out. "Can I hold ye now? Or am I still banned.â
You eye his hand, now void of any reminders of old men and cruelty.Â
"Please?" He asks again softly, and finally you nod.
His larger hand engulfs yours as he helps you stand, and you're barely on your feet when he's pulling you closer.
His touch is gentle, mindful of your injuries, holding you against him like he's afraid you'll disappear if he's not their to anchor you.
His forehead presses lightly against yours, just shy of your bruised eye. "I'm sorry for any pain I've brought ye," He whispers. "I just love ye so much, I couldn't let anyone whose ever caused ye such grief keep breathing."
Your breath hitches. "You love me? Jimmy ye barely-"
"No," He cuts you off again, his voice still soft despite the certainty. "I know I do, felt it the moment I saw ye that day in here," His eyes look to the right before back to you. "And I know ye feel it too, even if you don't realise it yet."
Your eyes close, not knowing how to speak. Truthfully there were feelings for the man that you couldn't decipher, feelings you talked up to be appreciation for everything he had done for you.
But you knew the truth.Â
Devotion, warmth, protection.
It all meant the same thing at the end of the day.Â
"Ye don't have to say it back," Jimmy continues. "I already know, yer eyes do it for you."
"Do they now?" You quip back as you open them, looking at him as he grins.
"When they're not looking like they want to rip my baws off and feed 'em to me, yes." He's laughing before he can even get the sentence out, and you chuckle with him, careful not to hurt yourself.
"Youâre proper mad," You hum, but the conviction was gone. "I'd never."
Jimmy reaches up, his thumb grazing your cheekbone, careful again of where it hurts. His touch was electric, and you'd almost forgotten the very feel.
You look at his mouth, then back to those burning blue eyes, and for a moment, the morality of everything that had happened felt small.Â
It all felt drowned out by the sheer, terrifying weight of actually being needed and loved this much.
You close the final inch.
When your lips meet his, Jimmy doesn't just kiss you. He sighs into it, a ragged desperate sound of a man who hid his fear behind a playful demeanour.
It wasn't confident, it was hungry and needy, his hands tangling into your hair and the back of your head with a possessive grip that told you he would never let you go again.
It hurt, but you ignored it the best you could, letting the heat from his touch hide any ounce of discomfort in case he stopped. He tasted like berries, something sweet.
There was only the two of you, the scratch of his stubble against your skin, one of his hands pulling you almost flush against him.
Only there did you accidentally wheeze out from the pain, and Jimmy pulls back just a fraction, his forehead resting against yours once again.
"Sorry âbout that.â He murmurs, but his smile doesn't drop.
"Idiot." Is all you say, and he nods.
"Seems I do a lot of stupid things when it comes tae you."Â Jimmy tilts your head again, bringing his lips back to yours in a more gentle way.
It's just the two of you in the room under the watchful eyes of painted figures.
That, and the blond wigs who watch from the door in silence, punching each other with grins as they see their two leaders reconnect.
hiii idk if you take requests but like. the way that you write jimmy is so fucking hot and sweet and perfect to me it makes me feral like hes living in my brain through your image... and like. just Thinking about him holding you with your back up against him while he touches you all sweet and him just. gently petting your clit with his thumb.............. cooing in your ear n being a sweet tease( ;) )... im sorry... im literally gonna die im sorry. i need him. i need him so fucking bad god the way you write him makes me crazy thank you thank you thank you
Rainy Daydreams
Pairing: Sir Jimmy Crystal x Reader
Not edited.
warnings: teasing, groping, breast touching, fingering, just jimmy being a shithead.
-
Rain had been falling for hours now, a loud and heavy sound against the rusted roof of the abandoned clinic you had found yourselves in for the night.
It leaked in places, seeping in through the various cracks in the ceiling and walls. It wasn't home by any means, but it was enough for now.
Ink and Shite were on watch somewhere outside, the red and blue suits being the last bit of colour you had seen before everyone else climbed into their sleeping bags.
The crew all sleep in a messy sprawl around a small fire - Jones tucked in with Snake, Jimmima facing the wall with her fairy wings sticking out from the back, Fox twitching like he was dreaming of a fight, and Jimmy Jimmy hugging his backpack like it was gonna run from him.
The man beside you wasn't letting you sleep by any means.
Jimmy had started his little game with light touches, the arm around your waist curling you even further into his front as you huffed.
"Jimmy," You had warned him, your eyes closed as you lightly elbow him. "Quit it."
"What's the matter?" He counters, his arm tightening as his hand begins to slide under your shirt, the coolness of his rings on your bare skin making you shiver. "See? My little loves all cold, gotta' make sure ye nice 'n toasty."
His breath is warm against your neck, and you can already sense the smirk on his face. His hand doesn't stop wandering, gliding all over your stomach, even going as far as to palm at your breast, his thumb swiping over your nipple through your thin sports bra.
"The others are right there," You whisper again, but you make no effort to push his hand away, even pushing lightly into him. You hear his breath catch in his throat as your ass grazes his covered cock. "Behave."
"Am behaving'," He whispers back, moving his head so that he can press a soft kiss to the skin below your ear. "Just," he kisses again. "Makin' sure you're alright, makin' sure ye warm." Another kiss.
Jimmy's hand has well and truly made its way south, sliding under the waistband of your tracksuit and over your underwear. He can feel the damp spot that's formed, and he chuckles lowly in your ear. "Oh yeah, you're nice n' warm alright."
His thumb finds your clit almost instantly, rubbing at it though your underwear as you sigh. Your head tilts back, resting against his shoulder as he just smiles.
Jimmy shifts again, pulling you impossibly closer against him as he nuzzles his nose into your hair. His thumb presses slightly harder against you, and your eyebrows furrow as you attempt to keep quiet.
Heâs toying with you, his thumb sliding down your covered slit, feeling the slick that seeps through the worn fabric before it finds itâs way back to your clit.
You shiver again, your free hand reaching down to grasp at his wrist, but you donât stop his touching. If anything, you use the leverage to grind against his digits, the roughness of his rings adding to the pleasure.
He chuckles again in your ear. âMy dirty girl,â he murmurs, feeling himself grow harder by the second at your attempt to stay quiet despite.
He was struggling to compose himself as well, revelling in the way you pushed your ass against him harder and harder. It amused him to no end, your desire to stay quiet but provoke him all the same. "So soft."
The fire pops softly as someone murmurs in their sleep. Rain patters on the roof like a loud lullaby, Jimmy using it as the perfect cover for his actions.
You shift just enough to turn your head towards him in the cramped sleeping bag. His blonde hair is a tousled mess, catching faint firelight, and he gives you a crooked, sleepy grin that never fails to make you melt.
âHm?â He whispers, pretending innocence as if his hand wasn't between your legs. âCanât I hold ye?"
"You're being mean."
"Aye," Jimmy nods, his eyes squinting as he watches you with a darkened stare. "S'good though, isn't it?"
His fingers pull your underwear to the side, a finger finding its way inside as your eyes widen, your teeth biting into your lip to stifle the moan that threatened to escape.
Jimmy chuckles again, grinning as your head turns back around. He mumbles a little 'aw', bringing his lips back to your ear.
summary: What begins as curiosity turns into fixation. The man who built a kingdom on loyalty and longing finds himself undone by the one wife who treats him like a convenience instead of a god. As Jimmyâs obsession grows, you become untouchable - his favourite, his weakness, his quiet problem.
You married him for a guaranteed bed, the hot meals, the protection and dick on demand whenever you wanted it. Your desire to be free still trumped the need to be locked away in a room with others, unexpectedly bringing more attention to yourself than you thought necessary.
Not edited.
wc: 7.2k whoopsie.
warnings: language, post apocalyptic setting, mentions of unprotected sex, mentions of violence - blood and gore, cult dynamics, harem tings, jealousy, mentions and allusions to smut - missionary and doggy. Possessive and obsessive nature, body worship, breast touching, kissing, nudity, bodily fluids (cum). Power imbalance. I guess dub con since Jimmy is in charge, smut - dirty talk, spanking, praise, teasing and taunting, doggy, cowgirl, pnv, creampie - multiple mentions of creampies, oral (f!receiving), fingering. Breeding and pregnancy kink if you squint, mentions of cheating (not from jimmy or reader). Straight up murder.
Find Part One here.
Let me know what you think!
-
Jimmy had stripped within minutes of making you 'wait' for him, his taunts a forgotten thought. He couldn't control himself around you, he couldn't stop the way he needed to feel impossibly close, his skin pressed against yours.
He had you flipped onto your knees within seconds, sheathed inside your leaking heat before you could even brace yourself.
Filthy.
Your husband was utterly filthy.
Filthy in the way his hips rolled against your soft ones.
Dirty in the way he pushed your head into his silk sheets, your name on his lips as he grunted.
He pushed himself further and inside until he felt like he was suffocating inside your leaking cunt. He felt drunk, he felt filthy himself in the way his own resolve was disappearing after just minutes inside you.
Your thighs quivered with every sharp thrust, hands bunched into the sheets, head turned to the side as breathless moans left your drooling lips.
"Fuckin' god," His hips stuttered as he sunk his cock deeper, rutting into you like a man starved. "M-my perfect fucking wife - shit - d'ya feel how wet you are? Soaking me, soaki- Christ."
Jimmy huffs through his nose as a louder grunt escapes his chest, the hand on your head releasing it's grip as he drags his hands over the softness of your lower back before gripping both of your hips, fucking you against him as you manage to sit upright a little onto your elbows. He spanks your ass and thighs with each jiggle, the rings providing a sting you relished in.
"Fuck-," You all but hiccuped, squeezing around him as you writhed on the bed. "Jim-Jimmy, s'too much, oh god, mmf, I canât -.â
It was as if you alone were made for him, made to go completely dumb on his cock as he pounded you into his mattress. Pussy squeezing him, sweet noises from your lips as drool leaked from the corners.
Teary eyes, an open mouth as only whining noises became the normal. Jimmy leans over you with his usual grin, trying to give off a semblance of restraint despite the sweat on his forehead and the furrow in his brow.
"Huh? What's that angel? S'too much? Naw, you - shit, you can take it, fuckin' made for this."
His hands are everywhere, shaky but firm, everywhere at once. His groans sound almost like a whimper as you clench around him.
Your voice felt high pitched as he stretches you deliciously, bottoming out with a few harder thrusts, his balls slapping against you with an almost disgustingly wet sound.
Jimmy whispers something from behind you, names you can't make out through the sound of skin against skin, prayers you didn't recognise.
Your breath leaves you in sharp gasps as you feel Jimmy reach around, his hand on your tummy as he positions you upright, your back pressed flush against his own chest.
He keeps you pinned to him as he ruts into you, and all you can do is cling to his arm for support as your eyes close.
"My brave girl," He all by coos in your ear, his movements turning slow as he drags his hips. "So strong for me aren't you? So, God - so fucking wet and full of me, so fucking proud all the time."
Your eyes open at hearing his words more clearly, your nails digging into his bicep as your free hand rests on his hip. Your thighs burned at the angle, your breasts bouncing roughly as Jimmy shifts his hold on you.
"Shut up." You managed to get the words out, even if they sounded weak.
He chuckles in your ear, the sound light despite the roughness of his hips. "Naw, think yer too good f'me?" A harder thrust sends you nearly forward, but he catches your slip.
"Goin' out everyday, workin', fuck," He slides the hand on your chest to your throat, keeping a light but evident grip as he slows his hips even further, causing you to whine. "Ignorin' me, ignoring your darling husband, leaving me here waiting fâyou.â
Your thighs quivered and with your last bit of strength, you tapped Jimmy's right thigh three times. It was an immediate stop, a way to tell him enough.
His thrusts stopped, the hand on your throat loosening as he immediately turns your head towards him, wanting to see what caused the interruption. He slides out of you, the empty feeling nearly making you regret making him stop.
He expected swears, expected you to cuss him out for berating you during sex, but instead you shifted your position, grabbing the blond by his necklaces, pushing him down.
A grunt leaves his mouth at the surprise, his back bouncing against the sheets as he lands. He's about to ask what's wrong when you're climbing over him, your thighs straddling his own as you reach down between your legs, gripping him in your fingers and guiding him back inside.
A wife had never been on top before.
You didn't care.
Jimmy's eyes were wide as he stared up at you, his hair a mess and clinging to his forehead and cheeks as his mouth opened. You feel tighter at this angle, and he feels thicker, pressed so full inside of you that you can't help by dig your nails into his chest.
It feels like you're in a trance, your hips immediately bouncing and sliding up and down on his cock as Jimmy moans so loudly, you nearly feel it in your chest.
"Jimmy," You whimper, and the man swallows, hard, shaking his head as his hands immediately reach for your hips. He felt lost for just a split second, not having had someone ride him in what felt like forever. "Oh my god, yâfeel so good, so fucking good like this."
The praise from your lips sounded better than any worship he had received in his lifetime.
Being on top gave someone else power he didn't like. Being on top and leaving him at someone's mercy was never apart of the deal.
But as he watches your tits bounce in his face, your face clouded and contorted in pleasure, he couldn't help but realise he never wanted to be away from this feeling again.
For once, the words escape him, his mouth hung open as he lets out a soft groan that resembled your real name. You didn't plan on flipping things around on him, literally, but you were so eager to shut him up.
With the quickly growing pace of your hips, sliding down his thick cock like it was second nature, your palms pressing down against his abdomen, the ridges of muscles spasming under your touch as the flush in his chest spreads up his neck and to his cheeks.
Your fingers wound through the small tufts of hair under his bellybutton before back to his chest.
"I-" His brow furrows further, his face squeezed with an emotion you can't quite decipher nor care too. It felt too good, he felt too good. "My Angel, look at yeâ.
Jimmy manages to sit upright, burying is face into the crook of your neck as he grunts, one hand still on your hip as the other slides over your lower back, up and across until he's gripping your jaw and bringing his lips to yours in a rough and wet kiss.
You cry into his mouth, Jimmy swallowing the sound as he licks into you, now gripping the back of your head as he guides you over his dick in a desperate pace.
Your hands reach around his neck, resting deep into his unruly blond strands as he moans unapologetically, kissing you with even more earnest. Despite how he chased your lips, he pulls back and grants you the sight of pure adoration.
He thrusts, the grip on your jaw never loosening as he keeps your eyes on his, his nose mere inches from yours as he watches you take what's yours and fall apart.
He feels like he's everywhere. His mouth back on yours, a ringed hand at your hip, his hips rutting into your pussy. The sweet drag of the base of his cock dragging over your clit and causing a gasp to leave your lips. You tug at the roots of his hair, granting you another delicious groan from his throat.
Jimmy's thrusts feel sloppier by the second, and the coil in your belly grows with each drag of your hips. Desperate to feel more, you reach down to between your legs, but Jimmy stops you with a quick click of his tongue.
"I got ye," He hums in approval at the way you let him slide his thumb over your clit, the embarrassingly loud sounds of your love making echoing through his bedroom and no doubt the hall.
The sounds were lewd, wet and rough, but you paid them no mind. "What a pretty little sight,"
You make the mistake of closing your eyes, relishing in the way Jimmy toyed with your clit in the same time the head of his cock pressed inside of you in a way that should've hurt.
"Ah ah, look at me," His words were an order and a beg in one. Whilst his cheeks were flushed and brows were furrowed in an attempt to keep control, his eyes were full of worship, of obsession. "Ye close? Can feel it huh, feel ye squeezin' me. Yeah, yeah you are."
He could always tell when you were, felt the shift in you almost instantly. He praises you the entire time, continuing his thrusts and swipe of his thumb to prolong the feeling. His own eyes struggled to stay open as he felt you squeeze him like you'd never feel him again.
You expected Jimmy to pull out after you came, but as he felt you quiver and pulse around him and attempt to move off of him, he grips your hips.
âNo,â He mutters, bringing his hand to cradle your jaw while his lips skim over the shell of your ear once more. âWanna feel you, all of ye, inside.â
It was your turn to be shocked.
Another rule broken.
And in a moment clouded by lust and something else you couldn't name, you nodded eagerly, bringing your lips to his again as he rutted inside you until he painted your walls with his cum.
You sighed his name, dragged the tips of your fingers over his jaw and cheeks until they swiped over his bottom lip. He chased your touch with each stutter of his hips, with each muscle that tightened in his lower stomach. It was you telling him how pretty he looked at this angle.
To say filling you felt like heaven was an understatement. He realised then and there that it was a feeling he would chase every chance he could.
Jimmy had cleaned you up, more gentle than you were used too. Had bathed you like you now carried a part of him that he was adamant could break.
He asked if youâd stay with him, but you declined with a kiss to the corner of his mouth, explaining that as much as you wanted too, you had an early morning start with the others.
Your husband watches as you leave his room with a slight limp, unable to hide the grin at the sight. But through it all, he found his obsession for you growing by the second.
Three rules broken tonight, and neither of you cared. If it were up to Jimmy, you would be barefoot and full of him 24/7.
Thankfully, it was up to him.
-
The steam from the porcelain mug curled around your face, smelling faintly of damp earth and bitter roots.
It was an old remedy, a mixture of wild carrot seeds and some herb you couldn't name that an older member had scavenged from the hills.
It tasted like dirt, but in a world without much else to offer, it was your only insurance. The older Jimmy said it worked if you took it regular - said it mattered now more than it ever had.
She called it Plan B, a name taken from the before.
"Oh, come on, don't just sit there sipping that shit," Josie nudged you, her eyes wide with a mix of confusion and genuine curiosity.
"The whole hall heard him the other night. Jimmy doesn't sound like that unless he's got someone strung up. He was practically crying, the hell did you do to him?"
You blew on your tea, looking at the circle of women clad in their dresses and heels, matching yours.
Your morning with the actual Jimmy's had turned into a few days in another outpost, much to your delight. Amongst the others, you felt like you had a family, like you belonged to people who had your back through thick and thin.
No tight dress, no heels, just a baggy green suit and a weapon in your hands.
Back in the common room however, you felt judged. As if your very movements were constantly being ridiculed. The common room was thick with heat and curiosity.
You sat cross legged on your chosen lounge, mortar and pestle balanced on the couch beside you.
Across from you, the wives were buzzing now that you were back with them.
âHello?â Josie whined, nudging you again when you decided to drink your tea instead of talking. âHe was loud. Like, loud loud, damn near kept me awake.â
Lou covered her mouth, eyes bright. âWe heard him down the hall, heard ye both actually, the hell did you two do?"
Elsie laughed, delighted at the conversation finally being had. "Never had him make a noise like that before, thought you were havin' a party in there."
You didnât look up as you looked into your cup. "What's the problem?"
"Problem?" Another echoes, a scoff on her red lips. "Ye had him screaming, we wanna know everything."
âI got on top?" You said simply, finally peering up at the others as you sip.
Silence hit the room like a dropped plate.
"Sorry?â Josie said flatly.
Lou blinked. âOh you are such a liar."
Blair actually sits up straighter from her spot on her couch, pausing the tv she had been watching. "Bullshit, ye got on top?" She didn't seem as displeased as the others, if anything, she was intrigued. "He never allows that, didnae think he had it in him."
You shrugged, swirling the mixture again before downing it in one go, face barely twitching at the taste. "Heat of the moment I guess,"
The heat of the tea begins to settle in your stomach as you see the women all share glances, as if an unspoken conversation amongst them was finally coming to light. "I don't know what to tell ye all, it just happened - I guess he didn't mind too much at the time?"
"Minded?" Josie scoffed. "He basically danced outta his room the next mornin', he completely forgot about his breakfast with Blair."
"Which was fine by me by the way," Blair pipes up, her head lounging over the back of her couch, hair long and red as she shrugs and swishes her wine. "Means I could sleep in."
The others ignored her, continue to stare at you as if you had just claimed you laid with an Alpha.
âThatâs...â Lou exhales. âThatâs not something he just lets happen, there's gotta be more to it.â
"Let's naw sit here and act like I'm making fibs yeah? The day I start makin' stories up over dick is the day I walk out of these walls and join the infected, Jesus Christ," You say a little more forcibly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
You well and truly hated being back in this room. "We fucked, I was on top, he let it happen, that's it, nothin' else to it."
They erupted all at once, questions, disbelief, envy barely disguised as laughter, curiosity on how you managed such a task.
Before you could answer any of it, the room shifted again.
Jimmy Crystal appeared in the doorway, a large smile on his face as if he had heard every little word from his wives mouths. His eyes went straight to you, lighting up in a way that made several wives go quiet immediately.
âYou're back,â he said, already crossing the room. "Huh, no one told me, ye been here long Angel?"
His hands settled on your shoulders from behind like clockwork, thumbs pressing warmly, familiarly. He looks for a moment, eyes darting all over to see if there were any injuries sustained whilst out.
Your head shakes in response, the empty cup resting between your thighs as you looked up at the man in charge.
Jimmy leans down until his mouth was near your ear. âMy room tonight?â He murmured. âI've found myself missin' you a fair bit 'n think we're due for a catch up... Don't ye think?â
You frowned slightly, tilting your head back to look at him. You couldn't deny the way he looked at you like you were the only woman in the room. He was doing it again. "But I'm not scheduled, y'know that."
He was getting lazy.
Desperate.
Before he could answer, Elsie piped up brightly from where she sat on the carpeted floor. âArenât I supposed to be seeing you tonight?â
Jimmy didnât even look at her, his eyes still locked onto yours from where you sit below him.
He clicked his tongue once, sharp, dismissive, his attention never snapping away. âNo,â He said plainly. âIâll be seeing you tonight, if ye will have me?â
The room went very quiet.
If you will have me.
Elsieâs smile faltered, confusion flashing across her face before she masked it. The others exchanged looks, some sympathetic, some openly resentful.
Jimmyâs grip on your shoulders tightened just a fraction, not painful, but unmistakably possessive now, as if there was a hint of fear that you'd refuse him, deny his touch.
âYou donât mind,â He added softly, more statement than question. âDo you? We don't gotta do anythin' ye don't want too, I just want to see you, yes? Have a wee chat."
All eyes were on you.
You felt the collective temperature in the room drop twenty degrees.
The resentment from the others was like a physical weight, but Jimmy seemed oblivious to everything but you. You looked at Elsieâs heartbroken expression and then back to Jimmyâs expectant one.
"Okay, yeah... Sure Jimmy," You said softly. "I'll be there."
Jimmy beamed, a bright, boyish grin that looked strange on a man who ran a cult. He leaned down, defying his own unspoken rule again about locking lips, and pressed a firm lingering peck to your dark red lips.
As he pulled away, his brow furrowed for a fraction of a second. He smacked his lips slightly, tasting the bitter, herbaceous tang of your tea.
He looked at the mug in your hand, then back at you, but the question died in his throat. Whatever it was, he didn't care enough to ruin the mood.
"Bye bye now." He spun on his heel and marched out with a last lingering look to where you sat, his stride jaunty.
The room exploded the second the door clicked shut.
"Oh and we're kissing now?" Lou shrieked. "When did that start? What the fuck?"
"On the mouth." Isobel chimed in, like she needed to clarify the heinous act.
"I told you," You said, feeling a headache forming at the unnecessary bickering. None of this was your fault. "Your guess is as good as mine." You turned to Elsie, who just sat looking lost. "Elsie love, Iâm so sorry, I didn't ask for this, you gotta know that right?"
Elsie didn't answer, she didn't even look at you. She just stood up, gathered her glass of wine and walked out without a word towards what you assumed was her bedroom.
Blair, still sprawled in her armchair just snorted. "I'd kiss ye too if ye had me screaming like that the other night."
It made your lips quirk just ever so slightly, but you couldn't help the unease that lingered.
-
By the time you admitted it to yourself, it had already been happening for weeks, months even.
Jimmy was in love with you. This was no longer obsession.
Not the theatrical kind he performed for the others, grand gestures, loud laughter, devotion like a spectacle, but something quieter and more dangerous.
He brought gifts to your door himself now.
Not sent, not delivered by another Jimmy.
New trainers on your bed. Books he had read that he thought youâd like. Various little knickknacks for your bedroom.
And then the ring.
Not a loop hanging from a chain like the others wore, symbolic, interchangeable, easily removed like a branded collar. This one was solid gold like the ones on his own fingers. Thin at the edges, sized just for your finger.
âIt's just a little somethin," He had shrugged like it was something casual. "Worried the one around ye neck might break off out there."
You didnât argue, arguing had never been your style - and truthfully, you were starting to enjoy his company more and more.
Out in the world, nothing changed.
You found yourself spending more time with Blair too.
She was the only one who didn't look at you like you were some usurper. The two of you were sitting beside each other in the common room, sharing a pre outbreak magazine while you sipped your herbal tea.
"We're going to run out of carrot seeds if he keeps summoning you every six hours," Blair remarked, not looking up from a picture of 90's handbag. "When did he start finishin' inside?"
You paused, the mug halfway to your lips. "You know what this is?"
"I used to help Mags make it before I became a wife," Blair smirked, finally looking at you. "I know the smell of a 'Iâm not having a baby' tea anywhere, nae bother, secret's safe with me... though I think it'd be cute to have a babe around."
"Yeah that's... not happening - I just don't understand it all,'" You murmured, head resting on her shoulder. "I didn't ask for this, I don't want the others hating me over this shite."
"Don't even worry 'bout them," She says flatly. "They're just scared they might have to actually scrub a floor, JImmy's just a meal ticket at the end of the day when ye think about it," She flips a page. "No offence, he's losing his mind over ye and they're losing their privileges,"
It was more food for thought, and you nestled in further to her side, your eyes no longer reading the paper.
"They're not actually scared of losing him, they're scared of losing the lifestyle. Fear makes people stupid and makes people do stupid things, like marrying a blonde."
You both laughed at her words.
How right she was.
-
More weeks passed.
Jimmy stopped pretending to rotate nights evenly.
Stopped his little visits in the common room all together.
He sought you out every chance he could between watches, after runs, sometimes just to sit and talk while the rest of the building buzzed without him.
Meals in his room became routine. Breakfast's, lunch and dinners. Moments that blurred together until the 'schedule' started to feel like a real relationship had well and truly formed.
He even started spending time with you in your room, leaving pieces of his clothing and jewellery any chance he could.
The others noticed, everyone did. They felt the change in the air when ever you were around, how his mood would lift instantly.
Jimmy smiled more, not grinned.
They all noticed the way he no longer looked at the other women the same. The way his attention snapped back to you whenever you entered a room even for just a second.
And you noticed the tea disappearing faster.
You drank it more often now, swallowing the bitterness without ceremony, careful and quiet about it. A necessary precaution.
He was becoming messy, keeping your legs locked tight around him every time he came, keeping your eyes trained on him as he filled you every way he could.
You found your mind was going foggy around Jimmy, that you were actually finding yourself falling for him - if that was even the right term. Love wasn't an emotion that came often in this world.
It was just clear that it wasn't desire anymore.
Just, you felt full of him in more ways than one. Full of a sharp heat and ache and the need to be with him even when sex wasn't involved.
Jimmy had you on your back in the planning room, maps and other objects thrown lazily to the floor in a heap as he buried his head between your legs.
He called you in under the guise of planning another raid - but had locked the door behind you within seconds.
You knew you weren't going to be making any new routines.
He had spread your legs wide, your dress bunched up around your waist to reveal the soft panties beneath. You thought he would just peel them to the side, tug them down to join the other items on the floor, but he left them swinging around one of your ankles instead.
He groaned, breathing shallow, jaw tight like you had just awakened something in him.
Jimmy never went down on a wife, never let them feel his lips in places he deemed worthy, but as he murmured to himself about how pretty your pussy looked like this, he couldn't think of anything else he'd rather be doing.
"All mine," He continued to murmur, kneeling between your spread thighs, so close you could feel his breath against your cunt. âSuch a gift."
He licked a long wet stripe from your leaking hole to your clit, and the moan you let out was enough to have you biting into your hand. His thumb swipes over your folds, opening you up like a flower.
A low sigh in delight leaves his lips. "Heaven."
His lips wrap around your clit, sucking and licking as two fingers slowly fill you, burying to the brim and curling inwards.
It didn't take you long to cum, and Jimmy was more than pleased with himself at the way your legs shook around his head, your fingers gripping his hair and tiara, gripping anything you could gain leverage on.
He just wiped his lips with the back of his hand, pressing a kiss to your knee before helping you fix your dress.
You expected him to ask for the favour to be reciprocated, but instead he just rearranged his pants, helped you to your feet and pet you on the behind, sending you on your merry way like you hadnât just soaked his face.
-
The power dynamic in the gymnasium had shifted so subtly. It was unnoticeable to most, but you had recognised it almost instantly.
While the majority of the other wives spent their days trapped in a cycle of crude words for you and red wine, you were still out in the mud and running with the infected.
You were still undergoing raids, killing runners and raiders left right and centre. Still took night watches, still laughed and bled alongside the other Jimmy's who trusted you implicitly now.
They deferred when you planned, followed your orders beyond the walls, listened when you instructed which raider got strung up first.
You found yourself actually enjoying it. Not the attention, but the idea of being able to keep those you cared about safe.
A leader, whether Jimmy intended it or not.
You had become more than a wife, you were the bridge between the eccentric king and the soldiers who kept him and your home alive.
In the bedroom, his desire turned into a frantic need to please you. His usual cocky demeanour would be abandoned at the door, leaving behind a man scared that you would leave him at any moment.
Sir Jimmy Crystal, a man who once demanded absolute service, was now spending hours between your legs, his blonde hair a mess, his gold necklaces clinking against your thighs as he worked to find new ways to make you lose that cool, collected composure of yours.
Your back was pressed against Jimmy's chest as you sat in his lap, the two of you watching an old movie on the tv he had in his room. He wore just his tracksuit pants and his white vest, you wearing a baggy shirt you had found in his closet.
His hands rest on your stomach, fingers running idle over the bare flesh under his shirt. It was uncharacteristically domestic, comfortable in a way you weren't used too.
"Been thinkin'," He mumbles in your ear, the low sound causing you to shiver. "I've been finding myself in a bit of a bind, you've been going out more," Jimmy's voice trails off as he tries to think of a way to speak his thoughts. "You've done enough for this place, yes? And I don't like how I feel when you're not 'ere."
He runs a hand over your waist, his thumb lingering near your hip. "So I want ye to stop, no more runs, no more raids, I want you 'ere with me, where it's safe, where I can keep an eye on you."
He leaned in, his voice dropping to a hopeful whisper. "We've been spending so much time together. Surely... surely nature is taking it's course hm? Youâre probably carrying me already, gotta be - The Lord knows I've been trying."
Your eyes widen at his words, immediately shaking your head. You knew the tea was working through your system and doing it's job. Cramps had riddled your stomach and lower back for the better half of the week, and you knew your period was just around the corner.
"No Jimmy, you know I like what we have going on - believe me, I really do," You say softly, resting your hands over his.
âBut I'm sorry, I don't see myself stoppin' any time soon. I've told you, being out there keeps me sane - but if I stayed in here all day? I'd go proper mad."
"But in your state-"
"I'm naw pregnant Jimmy," You cut him off, turning your head so you could see him properly. His jaw was tightened, blue eyes locked on your stomach. "I know I'm not, so that's no reason to keep me locked up in here."
He hated this.
He hated even more that his utter devotion to you wasn't enough to stay by his side 24/7.
"But ye could be," He argued again, sounding almost defeated. "Been filling you up everyday, never felt like the others were worthy of something so special y'know, but you? You've already got a piece of me, I know you're worthy f'more."
He wasn't talking to you as he spoke, but your belly. His eyes were locked tight on your stomach as he continued running his hands over the skin, your shirt bunched just under your breasts. "Pretty mama."
He whispered the last part, and it was almost enough to make you feel guilty about the tea.
Almost.
"You're the only person in this world who would choose to go out there over a warm bed," He muttered as he shakes himself from his thoughts. He sighs, pulling your forehead to his lips in a frustrated kiss. "Makes me wanna lock the doors 'n never let you out."
"But ye wouldn't," You whispered against him. "Because then I would hate you, and you're far too obsessed with making me love you to risk that."
Jimmy let out a sharp, self deprecating laugh, his grip on you tightening. "Wrapped around ye finger arenât I? Should be wearing my crown instead eh?"
He was back to his usual self almost instantly, using humour to cover his disappointment. You didn't miss the way his eyes constantly dart between your stomach and breasts. "I just want you safe."
âI am,â You replied, resting your head further into the junction between his shoulder and neck. âOut there with them, Iâve never been safer until I found you all.â
That truth unsettled him more than anything else youâd ever said.
Because love, he was learning, didnât always come with surrender he was used too and you had never once pretended you were his to keep.
Even as you found yourself loving him as each days passed.
-
You woke to a harsh knock on your bedroom door that was anything but gentle. It startled you instantly, hand reaching for a weapon that wasn't there.
âFeral, hey,â Jimmy Ink whispers, already halfway into your room like urgency had pushed her through the door. Her face looked pale in the low light. âYe need to get up, now. Something's going on."
She looks around the room as if someone was going to jump out, your eyes instantly find the knife in her hand, out and ready. She bounces around your room, waiting for you to get up as she checks every little door.
Your first thought was a raid. A breach. Something going wrong beyond the walls or in the outposts. "What is it? Ink? What the hells going on?"
You pulled on the nearest thing, a baggy shirt that still smelt faintly of Jimmy, a huff leaving your lips as she grabs your hand and brings you barefoot through the corridors.
The building felt wrong at this hour. Too awake. Too loud where it shouldâve been quiet.
"Ink?"
"You need to be here for this, he owes you that," You didn't know what she meant, but followed her all the same, watching as the grip on her knife didn't lessen. "We don't know if they actually convinced anyone yet, sânot safe.â
You felt lost in your own home.
The cold tile of the gymnasium floor bit into your bare soles as you stepped into the main hall. The air was thick, not with the smell of faint chlorine or wax, but with a sharp, electric tension that made the hair on your arms stand up.
Jimmy Ink, your friend and near sister in arms looked scared.
Scared for you.
Jimmy sat on his bright yellow throne, Jimmy's of all ages standing around him in their riot of colour, a living mural of loyalty.
When he saw you, he looked almost pleased. You weren't supposed to be awake, but he couldn't help but nod at Ink regardless.
"Angel," He breathed. The moment his eyes landed on you barefoot and in one of his shirts, his expression whilst wild, softened into something disturbingly tender. "Come 'ere, up here with me."
You walked forward, your heart hammering against your ribs. Your eyes lose Jimmy for a second, turning to see a different sight entirely.
Josie.
Lou.
Elsie.
Isobel.
They stood clustered together at the bottom of the drained pool in the centre of the room, shaking, faces streaked with tears.
Behind them, the JimÂmy's, your friends - Jimmy Jimmy, Jimmy Shite, Jimmy Fox, Jimmy Jones, stood watchful and grim, various weapons in hand.
Your walk continued as you spotted Blair perched on the edge of the pool, hands braced behind her as her legs swung back and forth, a dull and almost bored expression.
âWhat is going on?â You ask for what felt like the fifth time, your voice coming out quieter than you meant.
For the first time in awhile, fear threaded itself sharp and fast through your chest.
Jimmy laughed softly, delighted, and gestured for you again. He pulls you onto his lap the moment you had reached the steps towards him.
One of his large hands spread across your stomach, a possessive, protective gesture, while the other began to stroke your hair, twisting a lock around his finger.
"Jimmy? Talk to me,â You ask again with more urgency, your voice steady despite the adrenaline. "Why are they in the pool?"
Jimmy let out a low, melodic laugh, leaning his head against yours. "Quite the story actually. Sweet Blair came to me tonight with a rather interesting tale," He clicks his tongue, eye twitching. "Your lovely sisters here felt you were becoming... a bit of a problem."
The scene felt like a bizarre tableau of power and terror. The light from the overhead floodlights hit his dark expression, casting dancing glimmers across the walls. Below him, the empty, deep end of the swimming pool served as a makeshift pit that was only used for one thing.
Death.
Blair didnât look at you, her eyes trained on the women she had turned in. Just continuously swinging her legs as she sighed.
âShe said these girls," He nodded toward the pool as he nuzzles his nose against your head. "Had a plan, that you had to go. Hurt, maimed, killed even, who knows exactly - they won't talk,â
A sob broke from someone below.
Jimmy tilted his head, amused at the sound. "Was already planning on retiring them y'know? I only need you - I know that now, but I cannae have them around knowing they want my future gone, can I?"
He squeezes your stomach at this, voice dropping to a hiss. "Cannae have them touching what's mine, my bride, my pretty little mama."
Jimmy looks back at you, his eyes wide and shimmering with a terrifying, obsessive devotion as he watches you process everything.
You knew the others were upset at the way things had changed, but you didn't think they'd stoop so low.
Murder?
Most of them hadn't even been outside the walls since the virus broke out, yet they wanted to discard you like you were nothing.
But you knew Blair wouldnât lie about such a thing, the woman had started seeing Jimmy Shite in secret and was already starting to join on supply runs.
Her time as a wife was over, and she was more than happy and willing - she had nothing to lose by protecting you.
"Theyâre yours now," He whispers, loud enough for the weeping women in the pit to hear. "Iâve given them to you. Your friends are waiting, we can... Cast them out, hell - have 'em kill each other, or..." He trailed his fingers down to your throat.
"Shall we let our friends deal with them? We can make sure they never breathe the same air as you again."
The hall fell into a deathly silence. Even the Jimmy's seemed to hold their breath.
In the pit, Josie looked up, her face a mask of snot and tears, her eyes pleading with you, the woman she had spent weeks plotting against unbeknownst to you.
You felt lost for words.
Death was nothing to you, but never had you been the centre of attention like this. Never had you been the one to plan an execution of people you knew.
Jimmy leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as he sees you hesitate. "Tell me, my clever, brave girl. What should we do with them? It's your choice. Your word is law tonight," He kisses your temple, affectionate, trusting. "Either way, they all will be dying tonight, one way or another."
He was testing you.
More sobs echo through the empty pool, Lou screaming about how it was all Josie's idea, Isobel nodding in quick agreement as the brunette tried to plead her case.
"Oh shut it, you lot have been plannin' this shite for weeks," Blair pipes up from her spot in the front row. "Ye wanted to push her from a watch tower, don't act dense now."
More swears are thrown the gingers way as you see the way Jimmy Jones squeezes their bat from behind Lou.
They were eager. They were hungry.
You were kind. Their friend. Their family.
Every eye in the room turned to you.
Still the words escape you, and you sit upright in Jimmy's lap, knowing there was only one choice.
"A cast out will just bring infected near us, theyâll be loud.â You murmur, just low enough for Jimmy to hear.
He nods as he listens to your judgement. You felt the shock of the betrayal leaving by the second, replacing with a burning anger.
"Aye, it would," He agrees, continuing to run his nose against your head, inhaling your scent like you weren't currently playing executioner. "Ye could do it yerself if ye like? I know ye like getting your hands dirty. Maybe we watch them kill each other, have 'em put on a show."
Truthfully, the thought did cross your mind. But you knew you were being clouded by the deception and hurt.
"Mercy," You managed to say through gritted teeth, head turning to your husband whose eyebrows furrowed at your words. "Naw like that, get the Jimmy's to do it, quick and thorough."
JImmy's mouth frowns at your choice, but he knew he did say you could decide. He's about to speak when you cut him off again.
"Wait," You peer down, calling out Blair's name. She looks instantly, still looking bored despite her whistleblowing. "Who... Who started all of this?"
Her head peers back down, eyes trained solely on Josie. "Little love here, wanted Shite to fuck up yer tea."
Shite nods at her words, looking between his woman sitting on the pools edge before back to the cowering women in front of him.
"Huh..." You huffed, and you sink further into Jimmy's lap, fury glazed over your eyes as your fists clench. "Then they can make it hurt for her then, make it quick for the rest."
Screams echoed through the hall as the Jimmy's all raise their weapons, blood splattering through the empty pool as you watched from your position on Jimmy's throne.
He just beamed from beneath you, hand playing in your hair as he murmured how he had made the right choice with you.
Your eyes never left the scene in front of you, Jimmy laughing and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you watch the chaos beneath.
âYouâre gonna stop drinking that tea of yours too,â He groans softly, rubbing himself against your behind as the screams came now from just one womanâs mouth.
They let Josie suffer, true to your order.
The Jimmyâs took their turns with their weapons as the others quietened down. âYouâre gonna stop, and Iâm gonna make sure it takes, sâthat alright?â
Your attention was stuck too much on the carnage, fists clenched, jaw tight as you didnât blink.
The other Jimmyâs all grinned from where they stood, some standing with streaks and splatter of blood on their suits.
âMm, don't fret,â Jimmy pressed another kiss to your neck, pressing you even further into him.
âGonna make sure youâre full of me, feeling me leak everyday until youâre carrying me everywhere,â He groans again, murmuring more dirty thoughts as if you both hadnât just ordered the death and torture of a group of women you lived with merely metres from you.
summary: Assuming that Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal was off limits, you seek the company of a different Jimmy. Unbeknownst to you, your leader wanted you just as much.
Not edited.
wc: 5.9k
warnings: some spoilers for the movie but the next chapter will follow the movie more, language, post apocalyptic setting, reader has a brief little relationship with Jimmy Shite, yearning, blood, gore, knife and rope violence, manipulation, lying, religious psychosis, mentions of murder and ritualistic deaths but not in big detail, death, swearing, kissing, nudity mentions, jealousy and possessiveness, brief mention of smut - unprotected p in v + male masturbation.
Let me know what you think!
-
-
"It smells like shit."
Jimmy Fox laughs loudly from where he's crouching, his wig slipping sideways as he pokes his knife towards the slow-low half buried in the mud. âThat's proper feral that."
The infected answers with a wet, pathetic groan, fingers clawing at the dirt as it's belly drags through the soil beneath. It tries to surge forward and fails, face planting with an even wetter noise.
Your nose turns up at the sight, turning your attention back to the knife in your hand. You sit on a log slick with moss, your pink tracksuit streaked with stains of blood, both infected and non infected.
You drag the edge of your blade across a rock, now hearing Jimmy Jimmy chuckle as he moves, standing behind the slow infected with his bat in his hand.
The two Jimmy's continue teasing the demon, dancing just out of reach, and you shake your head. The others all stand around, sprawled out in your makeshift rest spot as you wait for Sir Jimmy to finish talking with Old Nick in private.
Somewhere far off, something screams, but it's distant enough to ignore. The slow-low reaches again, Fox taking a singular step back as it once again fails at a successful meal.
Jimmy Shite snorts from where heâs perched on his own rock, dark blue tracksuit zipped to his chin. âThat thingâs got less fight than you mate."
âOh fuck off,â Fox lifts his head, his knife pointed at the man, but his smile doesn't waver. âDon't even start.â
You're laughing as you hear the man in blue mutter a nah, the two friends continuing to bicker as if an infected wasn't just a breath away.
âPut that thing out of it's misery already,â Jimmy Ink finally snaps, storming over in her red tracksuit, her hands on her hips. âYe fuckin' playin' with it now aren't you?"
Fox straightens, mock offended. âWhat's this thing gonna do? It can barely even lift it's head Inky."
âNeither could you before Sir Jimmy found you,â You finally speak up, a grin across your face as everyone follows suit. "Just kill it already."
That does it. The group all laugh, even Jimmy Fox despite the not so subtle dig at his abilities. You flip your knife, testing the edge with your thumb. It was sharper than before, but there could always be better.
The chuckles still linger, but immediately seize when you hear footsteps from behind. The air shifts, and Jimmy stops beside you, his hands in his pockets.
The conversation dulls, not quite silent but softer, like the woods themselves are listening as they wait for Jimmy's words.
Heâs standing close enough that you can hear the faint jingle of his necklaces when he moves.
He looks down at you, his eyebrow raised as he sees you're still grinning. Jimmy Fox finally puts the infected out of it's misery in the background, but you're focused on the man in front of you.
Jimmy doesn't speak, and you're about to ask him if there was something wrong when his hand moves from out of his pocket. Your own hand stills from your sharpening, awaiting his move.
His fingers brush the edge of your badly cut wig, tugging it forward so it sits straighter above your brow. Gentle, careful, a gesture you weren't expecting.
"There," He says quietly, and you just nod at him, your words feeling lost. "Much better."
Your head shakes again as you quickly gather yourself, stuttering over your words before you manage a quick thank you.
Heat crawls up your neck, traitorous and sudden, and you quickly peer down, not wanting to embarrass yourself further. One corner of his mouth twitches, and if anyone notices, they're smart enough not to comment.
You watch as his purple pants leave your peripheral, keeping your head down to avoid your obvious reaction. The wigs were irritating, constantly moving, itching at your scalp. But they were a mere price to pay for the grace of the Chosen One.
Not that Jimmy minded when you took it off.
Out of all of the fingers, you were the one to get your hands dirtier than the rest. You assumed he was okay with it, excused it because he realised it got in the way when dealing with large groups.
The wig spent more time tucked into your waistband than it did on your head, but if Jimmy didn't care, then you wouldn't stop.
You watch as he reprimands Fox and Jimmy Jimmy for letting the slow-low crawl so closely to your little rest stop, and you just sigh. He talks with his hands, the rings shining when the sunlight hits them at the right angle. His blond hair brushes over his shoulders as he stares the other men down, clean and wavy.
He carries himself like a God, and to everyone in your group, he was.
Your eyes watch every little quirk, from the way he jokes about their poor form - to the way he looks back to you, as if making sure you were paying attention.
You always were.
"You good?" Jimmy Shite slides in to sit beside you, shoulder bumping yours.
"I'm good," You say a little too quickly, but you nudge him back gently. "Are you good?"
His eyebrow raises, but he nods all the same. "Ye just look weird,"
Your face goes blank at this, and Shite immediately laughs, his hands up in defence. "Naw like that, like ye staring off into space 'n all that."
"Oh," You exhale from your nose at his quick save. "Yeah, just... wondering where we're heading off too next I guess."
He nods, clearly thinking the same thing. It had been months since you had found any new souls needing saving, and it was getting old rather fast.
You look back to Jimmy, watching again as he speaks with Jimmy Ink, no doubt figuring out the groups next move.
You didn't know what it was with Jimmy exactly. It was clear he treated you differently than the other Fingers. He wasn't as sarcastic with you, often seeking your opinion quickly when times seemed tough.
He valued your skillset, that much was obvious. You just assumed that's all it was. Old Nick needed a strong hand, and that's all you were.
It didn't make you love him any less. If being valuable to Satan's own son was all you were, than you were happy to accept.
But you love him in a quiet way. The dangerous way.
The way you could never say out loud or admit to others.
Because Sir Jimmy is untouchable.
The son of the Morning Star. You couldn't touch the sun without being burned, so you accepted that basking in his heat was all you would be gifted.
It was love right?
Maybe it was infatuation, something sharp and stupid that resided in your chest whenever you heard him laugh. Something warm and dangerous that flares whenever he speaks to you directly and asks for your opinion.
Whatever it was, you wanted it badly. Your time on Earth could be over in the blink of an eye, and so you prayed silently to the dark lord below that he would grant you a companion like your friends.
Speaking of, Jimmy Jones and Jimmy Snake were sitting beside each other on another log, the two pressed into one another as they shared an apple. They would orbit around each other like nothing else exists, always within arms reach of one another.
The shared kisses, the constant cuddling, the tender eyes and sneaky run offs to somewhere private when they think everyones asleep.
It gnaws at you in the same way you were happy for them. Jealousy was an ugly thing, a feeling you never expected to experience after so long of just worrying about survival. You used to worry about your next meal, but now you just felt hungry for something else.
Forbidden fruit.
Jimmy Shite nudges your shoulder again, offering his hand to help you up from where you were seated. You take it, standing with a huff as you slide your knife back into its sheath at your waist.
"Water?" Heâs asking, already reaching for the canister he left strapped to his bag.
"Yeah," You nod, having run out of your own just an hour prior. There wasn't a worry, you knew a stream or a group would be found sooner or later. "Fox sculled everythin' I had left."
He shakes his head at his best friends actions, handing you his bottle as he calls the other Jimmy a mean word, the two of you laughing as you see Fox flip you both the bird.
Sir Jimmy clears his throat from where he stands, watching the two of you talk. "Pack up, we move out in ten," His voice carries before he points to you. "I want ye up front."
You nod at the order, and Jimmy gives you one final glance before he turns around, issuing more distant orders for the others.
With a quick drink from the blue Jimmyâs water, you hand it back to him with another thank you, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "Want me up front with ye?" Jimmy Shite questions, and seeing as he was the only Jimmy that hadn't received a direct order, you nod again.
Company was always better when leading. "Yeah, that'd uh, that would be nice actually."
Once everyone was up and ready, you fell into step beside the other Jimmy as the cult gathers itself behind.
-
Days had passed, and once again you had been sent ahead of the group to scout and clear the path. You got a bit ahead of yourself, following a non infected man who you assumed was out hunting.
Much like yourself in a way.
You find them tucked in the woods, a proper home hidden amid the trees. Tall fences, a large gate with a cottage to match, a shed beside it.
Five bodies walk around, alive and organised and in need of charity.
You crouch in the tree line and watch them all for a long minute, counting rotations, exits, checking for any more people that may reside in the compound. Your stomach warms in delight.
"Finally." You whisper to yourself, slipping away before any infected could sneak up on you. It had been months since the last batch of souls had been freed, and you were more than eager to please Old Nick again.
The last offering however, you had missed - being made to run into the dark and deal with a survivor who had made a last bolt for freedom.
It was fine at first, a freed soul was a freed soul after all.
By the time you had dragged the body back however, the Choosing Ceremony was over, charity was well and truly finished, and the chosen fighter had already washed the blood from their hands.
Youâd felt hollow for weeks, like you were left behind in a way. It should've been a good time, you should've been pleased, but Jimmy never started charity without you present.
Did you do something wrong?
There was no point in worrying about it - Jimmy had applauded your work with the runaway regardless, taking in the body you had dragged in behind you and your blood covered appearance as a great success.
Today was another day however.
Bursting back into the camp, sweaty and grinning, Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal pauses mid conversation, stopping with a curious glance as he sees your face.
You donât wait for permission, speaking as you attempt to catch your breath. "I found people, five of 'em. Walls are pretty big but - I think it'll be manageable."
For half a heartbeat, the camp is quiet. Jimmy throws his head back in what looked like a silent prayer before he grins. "Five?" He repeats, delighted. "Oh, Old Nick's feeling generous today, câmon peeps!â
His joy was infectious, and everyone erupts around him, all getting their belongings ready.
Jimmy steps close, lowering his voice just for you. âYouâve done beautifully,â He places his hand on your shoulder, patting it softly as he nods. âTruly.â
Your chest tightens at the praise. You beam, fierce and proud.
The assault is quick and quiet. The compoundâs walls slow you for seconds at most. Jimmy Jones grabs the first person to emerge from the gate. Jimmy Snake gets the second. Screaming breaks out as your friends flood in, bright tracksuits against mute colours.
One of them, a big burly man, charges at you instead of running. His fist meets your face before you get the chance to dodge him, and you snarl.
Pain blooms white hot. Your head snapping sideways. You taste blood and laugh through it, feral and thrilled.
"Ye cunt."
You drop him with your knee in his ribs and your knife resting against his throat, pushing him to the ground before you sit on his chest while he wheezes. Your hands shake as you bind his wrists above his head, with excitement however, not fear.
Jimmy Shite crouches beside you, helping cinch the rope. âYe good?â
You spit blood into the dirt beside the manâs head. âAw y'know, just peachy."
The group, all five now bound shaking and crying, are marched back towards the shed, ropes biting into their wrists. Youâre buzzing, jaw throbbing, heart hammering in time with the adrenaline already starting up ahead.
Your hand nurses your jaw as you follow after your friends, but Sir Jimmy calls your name and you turn, grin still sharp, but it quickly falters.
"Not ye my sweet Jimmy, not today," Jimmy stops you in your tracks. "Gonna need ye to scout ahead for a few hours, make sure no runners spoil todayâs fun."
He's nodding towards the front gate as your mouth opens and closes in disbelief. Again? The walls were high and strong, infected wouldn't be an issue by any means.
"But I found the place?" You almost whine, a little hesitant at talking back to the man. The words tumble out before you can stop them. "Why've I got to miss charity? Again?"
Jimmy's eye raises, one hand in his pocket as the corner of his lips quirk. "Because I said so, off ye go now."
Your stomach drops.
You want to argue back, want to say that it was bullshit, but you just nod instead, looking down at the worn trainers on your feet for a moment before getting your knife from your belt.
âHave I... done something to upset Old Nick? S'that why Iâm getting sent off again?â
Jimmy kicks himself off the wall, walking towards you and tutting at you with each step. He stops just inches away, one hand lifting to rest below your chin.
He raises it gently, titling your head to the side to check the bruise that no doubt now resided there. His expression softens in an almost pitying way.
âOh sweetheart, no no no. Youâve got him all wrong, heâs not upset at all,â He assures you, smiling as you hears you sigh in instant relief. âHe just needs you out there keeping us all safe yes? Is that naw a good enough reason?â
Sweetheart.
Of course it was a good enough reason. âHe trusts me with that?â You ask, voice almost small, hopeful and in awe, as you peer at him.
His touch is reverent, careful. "You're the most capable we've got."
Your chest fills with warmth. Pride. Relief. Devotion.
âYeah?â You whisper.
He smiles. âYeah.â
His eyes were full of something you couldn't decipher, but it didn't matter.
Old Nick himself deemed you worthy.
Your heart hammers a frantic rhythm against your ribs.Â
Jimmy nods again, his thumb rubbing over the tender skin as you wince. He coos softly, and you feel that familiar feeling in your chest again. âWe all trust ye - so go on, maybe youâll even be back in time for the choosing,â
He knows you wonât. You know you won't. Charity will be done and youâll be back to see whether or not thereâs a new finger. You still donât argue, just nodding again at his orders.
Jimmyâs hand slides from down your chin, over your neck until it rests on your shoulder. He pats it once, before turning you to face the exit. âOff ye go now pet.â
Pet.
That was new too, but it wasnât unwelcome.
The sting of disappointment was instantly replaced by a warm, glowing pride. The only one. Old Nick himself had singled you out for protection.
You excuse yourself, ignoring the sting at being excluded once more, choosing to focus on the acknowledgment that Old Nick trusted you the most to do the hard yards.
Jimmy Shite calls your name as you pass the flat, and you wave goodbye, watching as he finishes stringing up the same man who had punched you in the face. He waves back, and it wouldâve been a nice moment if it werenât for the large man wriggling by his wrists beside him.
As you disappeared into the mist of the surrounding forest, you felt ten feet tall, unaware of the way Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal stood perfectly still, watching you go until you were nothing but a flicker of pink amongst the grey.
He was more than aware however of the way one of his own disciples watched you leave as well. His jaw was clenched, and Jimmy tilts his head, waiting for the pinkness of your suit to completely disappear before he followed the others into the shed.
-
The compound gate groans when you swing it shut, metal scraping against metal, and you lock it behind you.
The sun was dipping below the tree line, bleeding into a deep purple as the night took over. You were exhausted, knuckles stained with the dark and tacky blood of the runners you'd struck down in among the trees.Â
As you walked towards the house, your mind spiraled back to the hours in the woods. Every time you swung your knife, you imagined him watching.
You'd berate yourself for it, the shame hot in your chest. He was the chosen son, you had to remind yourself that such a man was never going to be yours.
He is the vessel, you are just the weapon.
He is the body, you were just a finger.
But the way he had touched your face earlier? It was a feeling no amount of dead runners or slow-lows could help mask.
The compound was eerily quiet as you walked, the shed doors now closed.
The silence told you everything - charity was over. The souls were freed. You would've thought you had been left behind if it weren't for the colourful trainers and jelly shoes that lay outside the front door.
Inside the main house, the smell of roasted meat hits you, the rich scent immediately making your stomach growl.Â
Inside, you hear everyone before seeing them, following the boisterous sounds of your friends until you entered a dining room. Everyone, or nearly everyone sat around a large wooden table, plates in front of them as they ate like it was an earned meal.Â
It would've looked like a nightmare to anyone else. Half of the table was drenched in blood, their wigs matted with red, the other half in clothes that didn't belong to them and skin clean despite today's ordeal.
Candles are lit, the room a smell of bland wax and cooked meat. Ink was noticeably missing, but you could hear shuffling from upstairs.
Jimmy looks up from the head of the table, purple tracksuit half zipped, tiara set beside his plate. His face lights up instantly, his hand raised as he spots you. "There ye are," He beams. "Thought I'd have tae send out a search party."
"Never," You shake your head, dropping your pack somewhere behind you. "Well? How did it go?"
Jimmima pulls out a chair beside her with her foot, patting it a few times before she returns to her dinner.
You take it with a huff, seated between the girl who usually wore baby blue and Jimmy Shite. She wore a baggy shirt and some shorts instead, clearly having rummaged through the home's drawers in your absence.
"Old mate chose Jimmy Jimmy," Fox nods sits opposite, nodding towards the Jimmy in green. "Lasted barely a minute too, ye should've seen it."
Jimmy Jimmy mock bows, the others all laughing at his actions. He was clean despite hearing he was today's chosen, and you figured he'd been allowed to bathe first.Â
Jimmima, Jones and Snake also appeared clean and dressed in 'borrowed' pajamas, the rest still in their dirty tracksuits.
"You should've been there," Jimmima chirps from beside you. "I missed you a lot, I even thought Iâd be picked today."
You give her a half smile and a half arsed shrug. Your heart sank as she continued talking about how the charity had gone. The familiar pang of exclusion twisted in your gut.Â
It shouldn't matter. You did what Old Nick asked of you, you protected everyone.
A plate of something hot is pushed towards you, the ringed hand pushing it as far as it could before Jimmy pulled back.
"Deer," He smiles as if he could hear your inner conflict. "Our friends were kind enough to have hunted it this morning for us, isn't that some hospitality?"
Your stomach rumbles almost instantly, and you dig in without a second thought, muttering in mock agreement about the graciousness of the home owners.
Your eyes close at the cooked meat and mixed vegetables, having been weeks since you'd eaten a proper cooked meal. You pull your wig off, throwing it behind you to the floor by your bag.Â
"S'good yeah?" Jimmy Shite mutters from beside you. He's still covered in grime and blood. "Don't worry 'bout today either, they didn't put up much of a fight."
"Really?â You ask in between chews. "How bad was it?"
He shrugs, leaning his chin on his hands. "Wasn't bad, just⊠bit borin'," He nudges your elbow with his. "But I made sure I took my time with the big cunt."
The one who punched you in the face.Â
Your mouth quirks. "Yeah?"
He grins, his hand wiping over his mouth as he nods. "Yeah."
The knot in your chest loosens just a touch.
Jimmy's eyes flicker from between you to Shite, his jaw tightening. "How did we go with scouting?" He asks with a call of your name, his voice cutting through the warmth. "Judging by that shite on your hands, ye got busy?"Â
"Handful of runners, small little pack," You answer truthfully, noticing the weird way he eyed you and the man beside you. "Couple slow-lows when things got boring."
Jimmy claps quietly, a hand then raised towards you again. "Howzat."
Everyone immediately copies him, raising their glasses of water, mouths full of food as they chant.
A genuine smile breaks through the gloom at the sight, and you raise your own glass that Jimmima had poured without you noticing.
Jimmy Ink nearly jumps downstairs, her skin slick with droplets of water as she greets you warmly. She takes a seat beside Jones, her frame also sporting a borrowed shirt and some underwear. "Hot waters nearly gone, probably enough for one more."
"Fuckin' dibs," Jimmy Fox shouts, already half rising from his chair. "Finally."
"Sit down Fox," Jimmy's voice was like a whip before he points to you with a ringed finger. "She's going next."
Fox sits again despite the look on his face, the others all laughing at him.Â
"Naw it's fine," You shake your head, pointing to your plate with your fork. "I'm still eatin' anyway, you can take it."
Fox goes to stand again when Jimmy shoots him a look, the younger man holding his hands up in defence as he slides back into his seat.
You could see that Fox wanted to argue, that he'd been elbow deep in charity, but one look from Jimmy was enough to shut him up.
"Then everyone else can wait," Jimmy shrugs, reaching for his glass again as he smiles towards you. It doesnât reach his eyes. "You've earned it, it's all yours hen."
"Left a shirt on the counter," Ink waits for Jimmy to be finished as you continue eating. "Some undies too, dunno' if they'll fit your arse but."
The tension was lifted already, everyone breaking into chuckles as you roll your eyes playfully. Ink gives you a knowing nod, small enough just for you to notice, and you return the gesture.
You excuse yourself a couple of minutes after, Jones taking your plate from behind you and throwing it carelessly into the sink. It shatters on impact, more laughs echoing at their actions.Â
You thank everyone for dinner and hurry upstairs, finding the bathroom quickly and running yourself a bath with what remained of the hot water.
It wasn't anything grand by any means, but it was enough to feel clean for what felt like forever. Your wig was left downstairs still, and you scrubbed at your head and skin, watching as the blood and dirt disappeared below.
When you finally resembled a human again, you were wearing a stolen oversized shirt with some long forgotten band on the front.
The lace trimmed underwear Ink had found you felt unusual, but soft nonetheless against your skin.
In the hallway, the house was a puzzle of Jimmy's calling dibs on their sleeping arrangements. Jimmy Fox greets you with a gentle shoulder bump, grumbling something about he and Jimmy Jimmy claiming the couches downstairs before he enters the bathroom behind you.
You watch as Jimmy climbs the stairs, pausing at the top, his hand gripping the railing as his eyes travel slowly from your bare legs to your now clean face.
The look was heavy, hungry and unholy, as if the man had forgotten what had been hiding underneath the muck from the world outside.
"Good?" He asks, and you nearly asked what he meant until you realised he was talking about the bath.
Said bath starts again from behind the closed door, Fox having impeccable timing. "Yeah," You swallow, eyeing him almost in the same way he did you. "Was really good actually, thank you for uh - for letting me go first."Â
âNae bother,â He bows his head softly. "Good night sweetheart."Â
There it was again.
Jimmy adds a sleep well with your name, his gaze still lingering as he heads for what you assume was the master bedroom. You mutter the same, and he closes the door behind him.
Sweetheart.
Sweetheart.
Sweetheart.
It didnât mean anything. He was just in a good mood because of today.
Right?
It didnât help that heat burning in your belly by any means.
Needing sleep, you check each door apart from Jimmy's, finding the bedrooms and couches below all already claimed.
You're coming to terms with another floor and sleeping bag sleep when you find Jimmy Shite resting against the bathroom door, no doubt waiting for Jimmy Fox to finish up.
"Thereâs a mattress in the attic," He scratches at the back of his neck, his own wig missing. He was still dirty, almost evidently itching to be clean. "Nothing big but, naw gonna sleep downstairs and listen to that fuckin' shite,"
Jimmy Jimmy. His snoring kept almost everyone awake, and you snorted in agreement. "So I don't care 'bout sharing if ye don't."
Thank god. You weren't sure if your bones could handle a sleep on the hardwood after todayâs endeavors.Â
"Music to my ears," You fake moan, head lolled back at the idea of a mattress. "Iâll catch ye soon then.â
Youâd all shared floors and sleeping bags a number of times. Shite chuckles, the door beside him opening to a shirtless and clean Fox.
The Welshman looks taken aback by the two of you standing outside, and he covers his front with his hands. "Pervs."
He was wearing clean boxers, but you all laugh the same. Shite enters after him, pointing to the direction of the attic before closing the door.Â
The attic was cramped with what looked like decades of antiques and the old life, the room smelling of decaying wood and dust. You crawled onto the mattress, finding the room too hot to be using the blanket.
When Shite finally joined you, smelling of the same homemade soap you had used and wearing another pair of stolen boxers, the space was pitch black.Â
Giggles echoed from downstairs in the hall before Jimmy Shite closes the hatch, the sound evidently coming from Jimmy Jones.
Shite slides in beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight. For a long time, there was only the sound of the wind rattling against the roof tiles. "Ye all good?" He whispers, and you can hear his head turn against his pillow. "Feels like ye have been off since ye got sent out."
So it was obvious.Â
Your mind runs a mile a minute, thoughts traveling all over. From being excluded again from charity, to the way Jimmy had touched you outside and to the way he had eyed you just before in the hallway.
"I'm okay, no need to worry," You turn your own head with a sigh, feeling his breath on your cheek. "Are you okay?"
âYeah,â You hear him swallow. âIâm good now."
You weren't sure what he meant exactly, but you didn't question it either.
Silence settles again, and your head moves back to the slanted ceiling above, the room dark and your heart heavy. You wanted something, anything, to fill the hollow longing that constantly sat in your stomach.
If you couldn't have Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal, couldn't touch what you worshipped, then you would settle for what you could touch. "Are ye still awake?"
He was quiet for a moment before he mutters a 'yeahâ.Â
Your hand drifts in the darkness, finding his. He hadn't gotten under the covers either, and his calloused fingers entwines with yours. âIs⊠Is this okay?â
You hear him swallow despite the way he confidently grips your own scarred hand. âDefinitely.â
As if sensing what you were asking for, you feel him sit up, his other hand slowly but surely reaching for your bare thigh. He curses under his breath.
His touch was gentle, sliding over the soft skin before it slides upwards as you part your legs for him further. They stop at the feel of your underwear.
âFuckinâ hell,â He sighs your name as you sit upright beside him, finding his scarred cheek in the dark. "Ye sure 'bout this?"
"Iâm sure," You whisper as you keep your hand on his jaw and lean forward, your thumb reaches out, finding his lips as he groans out a finally.
You peck his lips softly, awkwardly at the angle, and your nose slides against his, breath mingling with his own as he angles his head to meet yours better. "Just touch me, please.â
You could pretend for one night that his touch belonged to someone else, pretend for one night that it was his lips on yours and his cock twitching in his boxers at the feel of you.
He kisses you harder, his hand darting into your underwear as he pushes you back down into the mattress.
You just wanted to feel what your friends downstairs did.
Wanted. Needed. Desired.Â
Even if the touch belonged to someone else.Â
-
The attic floorboards were thin, old and weathered. They offered no cover to the sounds above.
As Jimmy Shite thrust inside of you, his hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds of your moans, Jimmy lay on his borrowed king bed.
Every creak of the floor, every muffled whisper and moan echoed into his master suite.
He didn't sleep, he just listened.Â
Something hot and dark coils in his chest. He hears your soft sighs, your whimpers, and he tries to tune out the groans that come from the other Jimmy.
A surge of white hot possessiveness flares inside of him, making his fingers curl into the duvet below him.
Only when he hears the way you cry out a hot and heavy Jimmy, does he groan himself. It wasn't meant for him, he knew that - it wasn't uncommon for everyone in the group to call each other by just Jimmy.
His own doing.
It didn't matter. The very sound went straight to his cock.
Satan below, he could die a happy man hearing that.
Jimmy's hand dips into his waistband and into his boxers before he can stop himself, eyes trained on the ceiling as he hears you moan and muffle his name even more.
He feels disgusted in himself, the way he grips his hardened cock and strokes to the squeak of the mattress above.
He pictures it's him touching you, pictures your hand gripping him softly, stroking and sliding all over him.Â
Would you cry for him too?
Be absolutely soaking wet and pleading for his touch?
You would peer up at him like he was the only man who existed, bite your lip and run your thumb over his slit. You would say his name softly like you were right now.
As Jimmy closes his eyes, squeezing himself harder as he hears you and just you in his ears, he cums harder than he had in a long time.Â
He hears you fall apart, the sound even more muffled, and Jimmy knows that Shite is either covering your mouth or you were hiding yourself.Â
You would never have to hide yourself if you were with him. You would be loud, free to let everyone know who you belonged to.Â
When Jimmy thinks of you, he hears nothing else.Â
Hears no one else.Â
When he imagines the way you look when you finish, he imagines the way your cunt would squeeze around him and milk him for everything he had.
And he knows he would give it to you freely.
All of it.
Everything you wanted or needed, he would provide. Because you were his, even if you didn't realise it yet.
Jimmy slides his hand out from his boxers, wiping what had coated his hand onto the part of the bed he didn't lay on.
He heard the muffled giggle from your lips above, and he finds himself smiling, imaging again the way you would grin beneath him, or above him.Â
However you'd want him, he would allow.
It was only when he heard Jimmy Shite's deep chuckle follow right after that he frowned, his jaw clenching for what felt like the hundredth time. It wasn't right.Â
"Are you going to let that filth continue to touch what's yours?"
"'Course I'm fuckin' not." Jimmy replies aloud, adjusting himself in his pants as he clears his throat.Â
"Then do something about it my son."
He didn't even need Old Nick to tell him what to do this time.Â
summary: Assuming that Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal was off limits, you seek the company of a different Jimmy. Unbeknownst to you, your leader wanted you just as much.
Find Part One Here.
Not edited.
wc: 7.8k
warnings: some spoilers for the first movie but the next chapter will follow the second more, language, post apocalyptic setting, yearning, blood, gore, knife and rope violence, manipulation, lying, religious psychosis, mentions of murder and ritualistic deaths but not in big detail, death, swearing, kissing, jealousy and possessiveness, attempted assault on reader (not by Jimmy), fighting.
Let me know what you think!
-
-
It had been weeks since that night in the attic, and your life had become a dizzying game of emotional and quite literal gymnastics.Â
The weather was turning colder, the mud turning thicker and the mist into a biting nuisance. Time had passed, and the roads started to blur together, enough that everyone had settled into their routine and no one talked about them out loud.
Your night with Jimmy Shite did nothing to satisfy the hunger you had for Jimmy, and yet you still entertained Shite's attention when the night took over.
You didn't touch him, not like you had done back in that house, but you still talked - joked even about the way the two of you had fucked like everyone wasn't sleeping downstairs.Â
If anyone had heard you, they didn't comment. You knew you could've pinned the noises on Jimmy Jones and Jimmy Snake if need be.
Jimmy Shite didn't push for anything more either, nor did he try to turn it into something it wasn't. You both just needed the release, and you were more than okay with that.Â
Still, the two of you became closer. Shared sleeping bags when the frost got too thick, shared food and drink, night watch spent just talking about your time before finding Jimmy.
You were still head over heels for Jimmy through it all, even if his behaviour towards you had changed ever so slightly.
Your night watches used to be shared with Jimmy Shite, but tonight, Jimmy had permanently assigned you to the first watch with Jimmy Ink. Shite would then swap out with Jimmy Fox when your time was up.Â
Naively, you chalked up the changes to Jimmy wanting the best of his fingers to be watching over everyone as they slept.
Neither of you minded at the end of the day, the safety of the group was the first priority.
During the days however, Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal started seeking you out more than ever. He used to walk amongst everyone else, but now he'd walk beside you, talking up a storm whenever the moment went quiet.
At night when everyone was asleep, he'd find you in your corner of the camp, keeping you entertained whilst you stood on watch.
You revelled in it. The attention felt unreal, undeserving almost. But you would take anything Jimmy would give you, even if it was advice on weapons and fighting that you didn't need.Â
"Did I ever tell ye about Noo-Noo?" He asks you one afternoon as you all walk on a long forgotten trail. His eyes were bright as he kept his hands in his pockets during his stride. "Cannae remember if I have."
"The vacuum thing?" You replied, nodding along as you checked ahead occasionally for any signs of infected. "You have, but you can tell me more if it's not any trouble."
Your leader could talk about The Telletubies for hours if given the chance, and his face had lit up at the opportunity. "Aw hen, you should've seen him. Little blue thing living with the others in their house, always up for a laugh, a classic really.â
"Did he have a tv in his belly too?"
He chuckled instantly at your question, almost finding the innocence of the question cute. "Naw sweetheart - he didn't, he was a vacuum remember?"
You shrug as you walk, looking around again at the vast wasteland. "I don't really know what a vacuum is Jimmy."
Jimmy.
You forgot to add his title.
Instantly your head whips around to correct yourself, your mouth opening for a quick apology when you find Jimmy already looking at you.
He's just smiling, as if the very accident had made his day.
"Ye naw missing much," He sighs almost like he was in a memory, still looking at you as his eyes dart all over. "But s'alright, just means I have to tell you everything I know then eh? Ye should know all about the world we had before the demons came."
He didn't care about the fact you called him Jimmy.
Maybe he didn't hear you properly?Â
It's nothing. Just an accident. It can't happen again.
It wonât happen again.
Yes it will.
You beamed at the notion almost instantly, nodding at the man as you smile with teeth. You adored these moments, just being in his orbit and listening to his velvet voice weave story after story about the time before.Â
Jimmy Jones had called for him just moments later, having an idea for a place to camp. He seemed reluctant to part ways with you, but excused himself nonetheless.
Jimmy Shite, much to his dismay, took his spot almost instantly as you walked ahead.Â
He watched on with narrowed eyes as the dark blue of Shite's tracksuit almost blurred into your pink one, his fists clenched as you and the other Jimmy ran ahead, taking out two runners who were yet to notice your group.
Jimmy knew he was being unreasonable, but he could hear his fathers voice in his head within seconds of seeing you shove your knife into an infected womanâs neck.Â
'Resourceful.'
"Aye, she is," Jimmy finds himself saying out loud, and Jimmy Jones looks at him in confusion, having asked if he was happy with the spot they had found on their map.Â
The others look at him, but they don't question his actions. Jimmy just blankly stares at them before he shakes himself out of it, looking back down to the map.
"Hm? Oh yes, thatâll do.â
-
That night, you had all set up camp in an abandoned shop due to a sudden burst of rain.
Everyone had already fallen asleep in the back room, Jimmy Ink and yourself sitting on what used to be the register counter.
The windows were already barred and covered by pieces of wood, the only exit to the building being covered by a chest of drawers.
Still, you both kept watch. Runners could break the door down if their numbers were high enough, an Alpha wouldn't even struggle to tear the door down if need be.
The rain was on your side however, the heaviness against the still in tact roof providing enough cover to talk at a normal level.
The two of you shared some apples you had found in the remains of someoneâs yard, the only sound being the occasional chuckle at the hefty bites you both took.
It was simple, but the laughs were needed.
You could see though that something was weighing on Ink's mind, so as the two of you now sat on opposite sides of the counter, backs pressed against some columns, you nudged her foot roughly.
"Out with it Inky."
âOw,â She eyes you, as if thinking if she should speak her mind. You give her a look, and she throws another cut piece of apple in your direction. "Fine, what are you doing with Jimmy Shite?"
You catch the piece of fruit, eyeing her with tight lips before you speak. "What do y'mean?"
"Don't act thick, you're tripping over your feet for Sir Jimmy but bouncing on Jimmy Shite, what's that about?" She snaps, her lopsided wig moving around on her head as she points her knife at you.
It wasn't aggresive by any means, and it was her words that had you sitting up straighter.
"I don't - I'm not," You stammer before slumping against the column again. "I bounced on it once okay? That's literally it, nothing else, s'not like I'm in love with 'em."
Her lip quirks. "Because you're in love with Sir Jimmy."
"I didn't say that-."
"Didn't need too," She cuts you off. "Can tell, so why fuck around with Shite then?"
"Is it a crime to fuck someone?" You ask, a scoff on your lips right after. "Jesus, what are you, my ma?"
"Thank Satan I'm not if that's who you choose," She scoffs as well, but the two of you chuckle at each other. "I'm just saying that I don't really get it? Of all people, ye go for Shite?"
"Well I'm not going for Fox," You shrug. "Guess I just wanted to feel what the fuss was about ye know? What Jimmy Jones and Snake do every day, is that so bad?"
Ink gives you a now gentle glance. "S'not the same Pinky and you know it. Those two actually love each other, what you're doing with Shite is just fun."Â
"And fun is bad? Besides Iâm not doing anythin' with Shite," You correct your friend. "We fooled around back on the last charity night, that was it. Haven't even kissed him since."
"Why? If it's just some fun then, why aren't you still doin' it?"
Her question stops you.Â
Why weren't you continuing it all?
It was fun, you can admit that. The orgasm you had was great too, but you weren't in a rush to keep entertaining the other Jimmy.Â
You knew why, and so does she.
It's because it wasn't him.
"Because you love Jimmy," Ink says again, smiling as you eventually nod. "You donât have to worry, I won't say anything."
"I'm a proper idiot, aren't I Inky?" You groan, and Ink immediately shakes her head, moving across the counter until she sits by your feet. "I just donât get it, when I look at Jimmy, I feel weird. It's like everything is better? Itâs stupid because I know tomorrow is never guaranteed but when I'm talking to him? It doesn't matter, I'll take now if that's all I get."
"But?"
"But I cannae have him, so what's the point?" Your voice turns softer, a whisper, and Ink just smiles again, her hand resting on your own as she leans forward. "He doesn't even let me do Charity anymore, s'like he doesn't really need me as a finger these days."
Jimmy Ink stares at you for a long beat, a knowing look in her brown eyes. "Have you⊠tried talking to Sir Jimmy about all of this?"
You gawk at her, a startled laugh escaping your throat. "Are you mental? He's the Chosen Son, why the fuck would he even entertain all of this? He'd probably laugh and⊠and I don't know, exile me instantly?"
"Pinky," She cuts you off with a laugh of her own. "You idiot, you don't do charity anymore because Jimmy's doesn't want you getting picked during the Choosing ceremony," She laughs even harder at your widened eyes. "You've no idea how Jimmy feels 'bout you do you?"
"He's just⊠protective of the group," You counter weakly, mulling her words over. "He said Old Nick picks me to scout to keep everyone safe, that's it."
Ink throws her head back in a soft groan as you try to excuse the mans actions. "I've just told you, it's not Old Nick, it's all Jimmy,"Â She squeezes your hands for emphasis. "Don't get me wrong, you're good with a knife, but Jimmy doesn't want you hurt and neither does Old Nick clearly,â
âYou mean something to the both of 'em. If the Father is fond of you, I doubt the Son is far behind."
You sit in stunned silence, your heart thudding against your ribs. You look towards the closed door where the others all sleep, Ink's words taking over your thoughts.
It should've been disappointing - finding out that it wasn't Old Nick forcing you to miss out on Charity, but Jimmy.Â
But it didn't, it made you feel warm inside.Â
Wanted. Protected. Needed.
The Morning Star didn't want to risk you being taken from him, and it did nothing but ignite that burning heat in your chest.Â
-
The rain doesn't stop.
It doesn't soften, the sound slamming against the roof of the sports centre you all now huddled in. Water surprisingly doesn't leak through, the large building providing a decent amount of cover as you all await out the now brewing storm.
A pool lays empty on one side, a large indoor playground on the other. Various rooms and offices had been ransacked to the bone, but you all managed to set up your sleeping bags on some gym matting.
"Doesn't smell as bad," Jimmy Fox looks around at the large playground tunnels that tower over everyone. "All things considered."
Jimmy Snake snorts, nudging Fox with his elbow before he walks ahead. "You probably smell worse mate."
"I had a fuckin' bath back in that house thank you very much," Fox then turns to you with a point of his finger. "AÂ cold one at that."
You shrug at him, a half smile on your lips. "And yet you still smell like a bawbag."
The others laugh softly, and Fox just flips everyone off as he follows after Snake. Truthfully you were all in the same boat, but the rain had provided some relief to the usual sweaty and bloodied state the world left you in.Â
You pull your wig off and throw it to your sleeping bag, your tracksuit jacket coming off second. It was soaked through completely, and you walk to the edge of the drained pool to wring it out.
Your arms tense as you tighten the jacket, determined to get as much water out as possible when you hear footsteps coming up from beside you.
"Ye gonna catch a cold," Jimmy pipes up and you turn your head, seeing that he's already looking you over. "I've got Ink making a fire, c'mon now."
His hand is out, waving you towards him, but you shake your head. "I'm alright," Turning to face him completely, you nod your head towards the entrance. "I was gonna find something to cover the door before we all settle for the night."
Jimmy hums, his eyes darting noticeably to your chest before back to your eyes. You were just in your track pants and white vest, goosebumps over your uncovered skin. "Ye sure 'bout that?'Â
"Pretty sure," You hand Jimmy your jacket, almost testing the waters with your Sir Lord. "Would it be alright if you put this by the fire for me? I'll be over in a tick."
He hesitates, mouth opening as if to ask you again to join the others before he reluctantly grabs your cover. You give him a brief smile before excusing yourself, exhaling roughly the moment you're outside of Jimmy's vicinity.Â
Since that night on watch with Jimmy Ink, your head hasn't shut up. Her voice keeps replaying over and over, ruining any chance you had with focusing.Â
"You've no idea how Jimmy feels 'bout you do you?"
You feel ridiculous for even thinking about it.Â
You're in love with Satan's son. A man who talks about the Teletubbies and the Power Rangers like they were gospel but hands out death like it was second nature.
A man who touches you just enough to make you question everything and then step away like it means nothing.Â
Or worse - like it means too much.
When you finally make it back to the others, you sit between Jimmy Jones and Jimmy Jimmy, leaning back on your hands as you soak in the heat from the fire.
The doors were all barricaded, a peace of mind as you heard the thunder in the distance.
Sir Jimmy sits on the bleachers behind you all, elbows on his knees. His tiara was crooked, and you notice your jacket cover was beside him.
He'd kept it close.
You didn't question it. Didn't question him.Â
Already you'd back talked on more than one occasion, refused his request to join the others. He looked lost in thought until his eyes look to you.Â
Not a long look by any means but as the night progresses, you find him staring more and more. His blue eyes flicker towards you as you lean towards the others, even as you reach for the canned food Jimmima passes over.Â
Even as you climb into your sleeping bag, Jimmy just watches with a tensed jaw and a darkened gaze.
He's watching everything.
By the third day of staying in the sports centre, you're crawling out of your skin.
Your thoughts are clouded. Your body feels coiled tight. You keep catching yourself glancing towards Jimmy Shite and then immediately looking away, the memory of that night still lingering.
You didn't seek him out, but the desire and the need for a distraction grew. He was almost an option in your head.
But you didn't want almost.
You just wanted him.
But the man in question seemed distracted himself, and you noticed Jimmy wandering off more and more to have conversations with Old Nick.
He'd seem tense every time he walked back, only occasionally appearing at peace with whatever his dad had told him.
Still, you were losing your mind. You just wanted to know where you stood with him, with everyone. As everyday passed, you felt less and less like a finger.
Despite Jimmy Ink telling you that Jimmy didn't allow you to do charity in case you were picked for the choosing ceremony, you still felt like there was a possibility she was lying.
That maybe she was just telling you what you wanted to hear because you were friends.
Either way, you felt unneeded, that sooner or later you would be exiled. You knew it was just the dread from being cooped up inside that was causing it all.
You want to break something, to sink your knife into anything, but the rain outside didn't relent.
When the supplies started getting low, you're on your feet before anyone else.Â
"No, ah ah,â Jimmy's tutting, already pointing at you with a shake of his head. "No, not you - we'll send Fox out."
"He won't find shit," Ink pipes up from where she sits on the bleachers, Jimmy sending her an annoyed glance at being spoken back too. "Pinky's quicker."
Jimmy Fox opens his mouth to defend himself, but stops upon seeing Jimmy's expression.
"It'll be fine," You're reaching for your bag, double checking that your knife was still around your waist. "In and out, I'll head to that charity house again if I don't find anything."
âEager are we?â Jimmy sits up straighter. "You're just lookin' for a fight out there."
You don't deny it, but you don't ignore it either. "We need the food don't we? It's alright, I'll even take 'Mima."
Jimmima perks up, nodding her head eagerly. "Sounds good to me, Sir?"
He lulls it over, it's obvious he wants to say no and send someone else, but you can see too that he was having some internal conflict.
"Sir Jimmy?" You ask again, noticing the way his eyes close with a soft sigh as you say his name.Â
"Fine," He shrugs like he was defeated, waving you both off. "Fine, yes, but I want ye both back before sundown."
Both Jimmima and you grin, the Jimmy in baby blue bumping you with her shoulder as you nod at your leader. "We won't be too long.â
Outside, the rain is pouring harder. It soaks through the two of you in minutes, sticking your pink tracksuit to your skin.
Jimmima jogs beside you, humming something unsettlingly cheerful as you point out which paths you should take.
You're thinking about which house should be checked first when Jimmima stops, hitching her bag over her shoulders tighter. "Is everything okay with you?"
Why was everyone asking you this.
"Yeah?" You answer quickly, pulling her under what used to be a bus stop. Rain still fell through, but didn't drown you completely. "Why?"
"Just," She now fidgets with the straps of her bag. "You've been super quiet, I don't really like it."
Oh.
"Iâm okay," You look back towards the street, checking for any movement. As much as the rain provided good cover for infected, there was still the odd runner here and there that didn't care. "Just been busy is all."
"Doing what?" She asks again, her own eyes checking the surroundings. "You've not done any charities or anything for awhile, what are you busy with?â
Your head snaps back to hers, your jaw tense. She had a point, even if it did sting. "Cheers for the reminder Jimmima."
"I'm just saying," She giggles through it, not being able to tell that you're annoyed. Or if she did, she chose not to care. "Is it why Sir Jimmy is acting weird too?"
That made your eyes widen just a fraction. "How's he acting?"
"Mm, he's just been quiet too, s'weird," She just shrugs. "Maybe Old Nick's been talking to him more or something."
"Yeah, that could be it," You pass her off, needing to change the subject. "C'mon, we'll check out those lots and that baby place, might even head out to that farm house we passed before."
She beams, already walking to the first house without another word.
The first few buildings are empty, which you weren't exactly shocked by. The next were also stripped of anything worth taking or far too damaged to even enter.
Jimmima finds some fairy wings in the remains of the daycare, holding them up in a silent way of asking if she can have them. She's already wearing some cat ears she had picked up from another room.Â
You just shrug at her with a nod. "May as well leave with something."
-
She's skipping ahead now, fairy wings on her back as she runs her hands through the tall blades of grass. The two of you make your way to the old farmhouse you had walked past days prior, bags still empty.
You were quieter now that you were further out into the unknown, knife already out as you kept your eyes on your surroundings.Â
The area was empty all things considered, and your grip on your knife only tightened when a deer runs past. Jimmima looks back in excitement, and you match her expression, the both of you watching the animal disappear into the forest.Â
"Did you see how big it was?" She keeps her voice low, and you nod at her. "Could feed us for days."
"Massive," You agree, but you put her hand on her shoulder, pressing forward. "But it was probably spooked by somethin', s'keep moving."
Jimmima just continues walking, getting her own knife out as the two of you reach the front door to the rotting farmhouse.
It looked far worse than you thought, but you knew that even the most derelict of places could have supplies hiding amongst them.Â
It was a dud.
The place full of nothing but dust. The pair of you had scoured the entire place from top to bottom, finding nothing worth taking and not any type of sustenance.
Jimmima finds though what you knew was a Frisbee, Jimmy having talked about the piece of plastic in the past. It was the only colourful thing in the house, Jimmima turning it over in her hands. "Is this anything useful?"
"It's a toy,â You tell her, looking at the red circle as she looks at you confused. âYou uh, throw it around with people and catch it⊠I think."
"Ooh, like a ball?" She flips it over, eyes narrowing at it. "It bounces?"
"Naw," You laugh, shaking your head. "It flies, Jimmy told us about them a couple of months ago, remember?"
"Jimmy?" She repeats with a raised eyebrow. "Sir Jimmy?"
You clear your throat. "Yeah, Sir Jimmy."
She just giggles, stepping forward to hand you the Frisbee when you hear something creak.
You hear the footsteps before you can comment, Jimmima already whipping around quickly at the intrusion.
A man steps into the doorway. Not infected, standing tall and far dirtier than you. His clothes were ragged, and he sported an unkept beard and wide eyes.
"We'll I'll be damned."
Your hand is on your knife instantly, stepping forward until you're in front of Jimmima. She holds her own knife, the plastic frisbee already on the floor as she raises her weapon.
The man smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes, and his hands raise. "Saw you two walkin' before," He clears his throat, titling his head towards outside with a quick nod. "Thought I might've been seein' things, with the wigs 'n all that."
Your eyes narrow, fingers gripping your knife tighter. The man reeked, his skin caked in dirt and something you couldn't name. "You scared the deer."
"Guilty," He shrugs, his smile never wavering. "Never was good at stayin' quiet."
"Clearly you are if you've made it this long." You retort, and again he shrugs. It was clear the man was older than Jimmy, even under all the muck. Heâs been around since before the demons came.
"Observant thing huh? My names Bran-"
"Don't care," You cut him off, noticing the way his eye twitches. "You've got ten seconds to leave, get going.â
"Oh come on," He scoffs, but he makes no effort to move. "Why the hostility? I've not seen people in a while, least none that aren't trying tae tear me apart."Â
He laughs at his own joke, you and Jimmima sharing a quick glance to each other.
"Give it time," You say again, and the mans smile finally drops. "Seven seconds."
His foot steps forward, and both you and Jimmima hold your knives up in his direction. He just laughs, his dark eyes looking you up and down before they turn to the woman in baby blue.
"What about her eh? She talk? Or do you just do it all," He winks at Jimmima. "Nice wings bonnie, this your ma here? Sure acts like it, it's quite sweet."
You feel it immediately, that shift in the air. Another predator, but one worse than you. His confidence built on underestimating what you're both capable of.Â
Jimmima stiffens and she looks towards you again. You nod, the silent permission all she needed. She runs forward towards him and as suspected, the man pulls a knife out from somewhere in his pants.
She catches him off balance before he can swipe, and Jimmima's reaching for his knife when he kicks his leg out, catching her in the stomach.Â
She falls back to the wooden floor with a pained grunt, her hand on her belly. You're already jumping over her, using your own knife to cut at his arm as he yells out.
He drops his knife as he reaches for the bleeding gash on his arm, and your elbow jabs at his throat with as much force as you can muster, your teeth grinding together as you hear him choke.Â
His other hand reaches out, pulling at your wig in his desperate need for leverage. He yanks the blond mess off, and you cut at his other arm again, his eyes squeezing shut as he stumbles back.
He gasps for air, and you deliver a sharp blow with the hilt of your knife to his temple, sending him crashing into the already broken staircase.Â
His arrogance ignited something in you, a white hot flash of the rage you'd been suppressing for months now.Â
"Jimmima," You attempt to catch your breath, quickly kneeling down beside her as she sits up. The man was knocked out, laying against the stairs in an awkward position. "You okay? Where's it hurt?"
She waves you off, just groaning as you help her up to her feet. "Cunt hurt my tummy," She doubles over as she collects her own breath, and her head tilts, seeing the blood on his arms. "He dead?"
"No," You dust off her behind, and she eyes the man with a glare. She searches for her knife, hobbling slightly as she does so. "Not yet, but he should be."
She spins around on the balls of her feet despite the pain in her stomach. Her eyebrows raise. "Charity?"
"Charity," You repeat, your voice low and shaking with adrenaline. "But not without the others, y'think you can head on out and get them?"
"And leave you here with him?"
You wave her off with a pish. "I'll tie him up."
âI donât know,â Your friend hesitates. "You sure Pinky?"
"Yeah," The man looked like he was out cold. "Go."
She leaves reluctantly, her jelly shoes squelching into the mud as she ventures out into the rain.
Once her blue suit disappears from your line of vision, you turn around, seeing the man twitching from where he lay.
Heâs heavy despite his clear lack of food. You're dragging him by his feet when he groans. You've already dropped him roughly, walking back around to quickly grab your rope from your bag when you feel rough hands grasping at your hips.
You curse at yourself for turning your back on him.
Rusty.
Your head snaps up instantly, shooting backwards until it connects with what you assumed was his nose. A faint crunch greets your ears, but he fights back again, his hands gripping at your tracksuit until the material rips in a filthy scramble for dominance.
You didn't scream, didn't shout curse words, you just worked. The top half of your suit is torn off, leaving you in your vest as you throw a punch.
The man grunts again, throwing your jacket to the floor as he makes another attempt to grab your arms. You're pushed against the wall, a pained cry finally leaving your lips as he pins your arms to your side.
His blooded nose is in your neck, inhaling as he shivers. His beard scratches at your skin as you hiss. âFuckin'Â right beauty eh?â
He feels your chest rising and falling against him, a smile on his lips as he hears noises out of your mouth. He assumes itâs tears, that youâre sobbing.
It's only when he pulls back to admire his handiwork that he sees you grinning, laughter bubbling from your chest. His eyes squint in confusion before he feels you push your weight against the wall.
Your feet are pressed against his stomach before he can move, and you use the wall as leverage to push with all of your weight.Â
The man drops once more, and you're on him in seconds, hitting him in the face until all that was left was a mask of red.
You stop when his grip weakens, and the relief in your chest at hearing his gurgled breathing made you smile.
Blood coats your fists, your vest completely stained and cheeks covered. The floor was stained, some even flicking onto the walls.
He was still alive.
Just, and you peer down at him, arms on the sides of his head as his bruised eyes struggle to stay open. His nose was broken and split, teeth chipped or missing and scattered to the floor.Â
Probably why your fists hurt so much.
His lips were swollen, cheeks puffed and beard coated in red. Your mind was spinning, but adrenaline let you keep going.
Your head tilts as you grin, a deep chuckle echoing in the room as you rest your weight further against his chest. He wheezes, and you lean down until your forehead presses against his, eyes bearing down, wide and sharp.
"Charity," You whisper and the man grunts again, one final attempt at fighting back. "Ah ah, none of that now," You reach for your knife that you'd put back in its sheath after the first knockout.
He coughs out a word that resembles please, but the letters were jumbled, muffled with the now lack of teeth.Â
"Old Nick forgive me."
-
By the time Jimmy and the others arrive, the scene was gruesome.
The man swings by his ankles from a rafter, swaying gently. Jimmy enters slowly, the others all holding weapons as they check for any other problems.
A plastic bag was cinched over the dangling manâs head, hiding his face but doing nothing to hide the blood. His shirt was long gone, his bare torso telling a whole other story.Â
"My my," Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal's voice echoes in the small room. He walks around the man like he was inspecting a piece of art. "You've been busy sweetheart."
Jimmy finds his name carved into the mans skin in deep, jagged capital letters, the blood still weeping down until it drips to the floor below.
A dark, possessive spark lights up in his blue eyes. Jimmy whistles lowly, looking over your handiwork before he sees you sitting against the wall further in the room, knees drawn up, hands sticky with your hunting knife still in hand.
His mouth opens to speak, the others piling into the room as they take in your charity case. The man whimpers from where he hangs, clearly hearing the many footsteps, and you slowly lift your head.
"He's alive?" He says quietly, but moves until he's kneeling down beside you.Â
"Barely," You whisper back, letting Jimmy take the knife from your hands. "Waited for you."
Jimmy looks back, eyeing the carvings in the mans flesh, your torn jacket on the floor, until he sees your hands up close. "My brave Pinky," It didn't take a genius. "We'll leave him here," He adds, handing your knife to someone behind him before he helps you to your feet. "Demons will get him eventually,"
No one argues.
"I've got ye sweetheart," Jimmy puts his arm around your waist, noticing the distant look on your face. "Alright? We've all got ye."
You don't comment, just nodding as you let him guide you out. Jimmima grabs your bag from the floor, Jimmy Ink grabbing your wig and Jimmy Shite finding the remains of your tracksuit jacket.
Your friends all look on worryingly, sparing the man strung up a final glance before they follow after you both. Jimmy Fox spits at the floor near him, making sure to leave the doors wide open behind him as he walks over the forgotten frisbee.
-
The group had walked you to a small stream whilst the sun was still up, even if it hid behind the clouds. Jimmy Ink helps clean you up to the best of her ability.
You let her, not out of fear, but because your muscles ached more than you were willing to admit, the adrenaline well and truly gone.
Jimmy watched from the waters edge, his hands in his pockets and eyes never leaving yours. The others all stood around on watch, weapons in hand in case any runners or other unexpected guests decided to show.
The rain still poured down, the clouds dark and grey, but no one rushed you.
By the time you were clean, you'd started talking again, assuring everyone you were just frazzled after such an ordeal. You were smiling, laughing as you were helped out of the water, and everyone seemed content with having you back to normal.
All except Jimmy.
It was as if he was the only one who could tell your smile didn't reach your eyes like usual.
That night, the centre feels wrongfully cheerful.
You were dressed now in one of Jimmy's clean shirts, a pair of someone's pants on your waist. Someone joked that the next mission was to find you a new tracksuit, you chuckled just once in agreement.
Jimmy Jones and Snake had ventured back to the house from days ago for more food, returning with plenty more as everyone cheered.
After eating, most of the gang had started kicking around a football in the drained pool, Jones sitting on the edge as Jimmy Ink and Jimmima sat by the fire talking.
It was a celebration of sorts, a festive way of celebrating the haul of supplies and your charity.
A soul for old Nick was always worth celebrating.
Only you weren't celebrating, wandering off to find somewhere quiet. You just wanted to sleep, but with everyone being loud and proud, you didnât have many options.
Everything ached, your hands bruised and cut. There were bruises no doubt on your back and hips, and so you just pleaded with the lord below to let you find somewhere soft and safe to sleep in.
You ended up crawling deep into the heart of the padded fort of the indoor playground. Curling up in the dark, your eyes closed for what felt like hours until you hear plastic crinkling nearby.
A silhouette blocks the entrance to the tunnel, but you make no effort to move.
"Bit of a tight squeeze for a man of my stature," Jimmy purrs, crawling in until he sits beside you in the cramped space. "Not the most ideal spot tae sleep in neither, ye want tae tell me why we're hiding in here?"
"I'm not hiding," You retort, shuffling a little in an effort to give him room. "Just⊠Needed some space, some quiet."
Jimmy looks around with a raised eyebrow. "This is space?"
"Well it was before you got in here."
You waited again for the reprimand, the scolding for talking back to him. But still, it never comes, Jimmy just chuckling as he nods in agreement. "Suppose, ye want tae tell me why we wanted some space and quiet then? Youâve being all⊠distant. S'not like you at all."
You hesitate.
It felt like a trap, like he already knew what you were thinking and feeling but wanted to hear it from your lips instead.
"I justâŠ" You trail off, picking at a loose thread on your borrowed pants. "I overstepped today and Iâm worried.â
"Hm?"
You sigh, eyes squeezing shut before you just think fuck it, the punishment will come anyway.
"I overstepped. I did charity without permission and without Old Nick's approval," The words come out quick and without a breath. "I was angry, at him, at you. He tried touching me and I just couldn't stop, I had to see him bleed and so I did,â
âSo Iâm⊠I'm sorry Sir, and I hope Old Nick will forgive me for my wrongdoings."
You're waiting for the laugh, for the insults and for his orders. But Jimmy just leans forward, his face inches from yours. In the confined space, he smells of the rain.
"Cut that Sir shite out, I think we already know ye don't gotta do that anymore," He reaches out, his hand on your knee gently as your heart quickens. "And why say sorry? You were perfect, did exactly what I wouldâve done,
âOnly I wouldâve taken his hands, made sure he knew he couldn't touch what wasn't his. Naw a fan of knowing people have touched you, isnât that funny?â
"Jimmy?"
"Ye did exactly what you were meant to do," He continues. "Exactly what Old Nick wanted, what I wanted."
It was all too much. His words did nothing to stop the butterflies that ran a muck in your stomach.
The relief at knowing Old Nick wasnât upset didn't even come close to helping your anxiety, but the praise helped only a little. You looked at him, the blond hair and the tiara, the upside down cross, and you see a man, not the Lord.Â
You see the man who talks about the world before and shares it all with you. The man you love so much that it hurts. It wasnât infatuation, it never was.
Jimmy tilts his head. He reaches out again, his hand surprisingly warm despite the rings on his fingers as he cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over a small smear of dry blood that Jimmy Ink had missed.
His voice drops to a gravelly hum. "That's not it though is it? What's really going on in that head of yours?"
Your heart pounds.Â
"That⊠I might have to keep to myself," You whisper, your heart hammering so hard that it feels like it would crack a rib or two. "Itâs not right, I⊠I feel like it's a sin."
Jimmy just grins. "I am His Son," He reminds you, eyes dark and intense. "I think I get to decide what's a sin and what's not, donât you think? Go on, tell me."
âInk said you feel the same and I donât really believe her,â You look at his lips before you look back to his eyes, the silence between you both stretching until it snapped. âBut⊠I can't handle not knowing where I stand with you anymore."
Before he can ask what you meant, you turn your head. It was a clumsy, desperate movement considering the small space. You press your lips against his, your eyes closing with the sudden, terrifying rush of it all.
You expected him to push you away, to cast you out, to scream about sacrilege.
But for a heartbeat, Jimmy just freezes.Â
Then, a low guttural sound, half a growl - half a moan, erupts from his throat. His hands fly to your waist, his rings biting into your skin as he pulls you flush against him.
The positioning was awkward given your location, so you adjust yourself, moving until youâre sitting in his lap as he returns the kiss with a savage, starving intensity.Â
Jimmy pulls you even closer, hands reaching down until theyâre grasping at your ass through your pants in an attempt to leave no space between you.
You move your head on an angle, your own hands around his neck as he deepens the kiss with a soft groan of your name. Your real name, not Jimmy, not Pinky.
He didn't need to tell you with words that Jimmy Ink was right about everything.
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