(The best of this post and its reblogs, but with links that work)
Here is a website where you can scroll down to all the different levels of the ocean
Here is a website where you can see the future of the universe
Here is a website where you can press a ‘make everything okay’ button, over and over, until things really are okay
Here is a website that you can read if you feel like a burden
Here is a website where you can look at strobe illusions (TW strobe/flashing)
Here is a website where you can cut stuff up (TW blood/sh)
Here and here are websites where you can play with sand
Here is a website where you can draw with macaroni and other fun foods
Here is a website where you can paint someone’s nails
Here is a website where you can grow a garden with emojis
Here is a website with hundreds of videos of people hugging you (rightfully dubbed ‘the nicest place on the internet’ because it really is, y’all, it made me cry)
Here is a website that will take you to other useless websites
Here is a website where you can make a tiny cat play bongo drums (and other instruments!)
Here is a website to help give you gentle reminders <3
Here is a website where you can grow a tiny farm
Here is a website where you can take a bunch of scientific personality tests
♰ 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺; You were only pretending to be a succubus. Jimmy was never pretending at all.
♰ 𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘸 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: porn with plot, sub!Jimmy,dom!reader,drug use,religious themes,reverse cowgirl,oral on a cross (m + f receiving)cream pie,begging, dirty talk + pet names,sex on a cross(lord forgive me I have sinned this whole story 😩)
A/n: I hope you all enjoy I’m not gonna lie I completely forgot to add that reader was more than likely a virgin considering her circumstances but aye good thing it’s fiction also tags 🫶 @saintlucretia and @honey-eyed-munson i hope you enjoy your request if there’s anything i need to change plz lmk
“We have to be…demons?”
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.
“Yes and no,” 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. “You’re going to be a demon,” he continued, matter-of-fact. “And I’m going to be Satan.”
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.
“You’ll thank me later child,” he said quietly. “When this boy leaves.” His voice dropped, rough around the edges. “I’ve never felt true fear until he came here.”
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 couldn’t 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
“Hide,” he murmured, urgent now but not frantic, more sharp with purpose. “Do not come out until I’m halfway through the dance. You’ll hear it. There’s a lyric and you’ll know when it’s time.”
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 they’d 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 didn’t 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.
That’s 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 didn’t touch him. You didn’t 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 didn’t realize that the dust didn’t settle the way it should have.
It lingered,thin and pale, suspended in the air like breath in winter.
You were too focused on Jimmy’s 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 couldn’t remember when that stopped.
Jimmy was still staring at you with awe. His knees almost buckling when you gave him a smile.
“Come,” you say softly. It wasn’t a command but an invitation.
Jimmy’s 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 Ian’s wild dance, deeper into the dark where the light from the fire and candles couldn’t quite reach. Each step felt inevitable. Each breath felt thicker, sweeter, wrong in a way that made your pulse race.
Jimmy didn’t 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.
“Christ… Christ above,” Jimmy whispered hoarsely, then corrected himself, frantic. “No—no’ Him. Him.”
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 puppy’s,lips trembling in temptation or even fear.
“I can feel it,” he whimpered, voice breaking into something small and helpless. “You’re takin’ it outta me. My breath..my soul—fuck, I cannae—”
His knees buckled again but he caught himself only because you lifted a hand. Your fingers grazed against his tracksuit just below his collarbone.
“Aye,” he gasped, eyes fluttering. “That’s it. That’s how it’s meant tae be. He said it would be.. said I’d feel hollow when it came fer me.”
He swallowed hard and you could feel him shaking as if he were in the confessional,confessing the worst sins
“My da,” he breathed, almost tender. “Old Nick. Satan himself. He doesnae lie.”
You tilted your head, antlers casting shadows across his face, and the motion alone made him whine,soft,broken,utterly undone.
“I followed him,” Jimmy rushed on, desperate now, words tumbling over each other in a thick Highland lilt. “I did what he asked,what a son’s meant tae do. So if you’re his… if you’re what he sent,” His voice cracked completely. “then please,” he sobbed quietly, “don’t stop.”
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 didn’t believe he deserved.
“I’m emptyin’,” he finally whispered, awed and terrified. “I can feel it leavin’ me. That means it’s workin’, aye? Means I’m chosen.”
And in the haze curling through your mind, with the dust still sweet in your lungs and belief humming under your skin, you didn’t correct him.
You couldn’t.
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 couldn’t contain.
“He had sent me,” you finally talk with a voice sweet as honey “now lay down on the cross.”
Your fingers point towards it and he doesn’t even hesitate.
He scrambles towards the large wooden piece and you stop him just as he gets near
“Naked.”
He stops almost sobering up to question but then he sees the shadows that cast behind you like wings and he doesn’t disobey.
He quickly unzips his jacket and pushes down his pants and underwear along with his shoes,tossing them in random directions.
He’s 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.
He’s 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.
“Old nick is very pleased with you,” you hum and watch his eyes widened with happiness “but you must prove your worth with one last task.”
Your leaned down by his ear now. Your breath making the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight
“You must please me,eat me,and fuck me.”
“Y-yes I’ll do anything fer ya.” He whines like a child “just let me do anything you want and I will.”
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.
“Touch me.” 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.
“You can keep going.”
You say when you notice he’s 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.
“You’re doing such a good job.” 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. You’re 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.
He’s 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
“That’s it,” you moan “you’re gonna make me cum.”
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. You’re shaking now as he laps it up.
His cock is still in your hands and you see his precum drip from his swollen tip.
“Please.” He’s begging from under you. “Please let me cum. I’ve been so good.”
His voice is desperate yet you still let go of him.
It slaps against his stomach and he’s practically crying now
“No need for tears,” you reassured “you’re gonna cum baby.” 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
“Such a needy little boy.” You coo.
You squeeze his cock and he cries out. You couldn’t 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.
“Yer-fuck yer so tight.” 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 didn’t care.
Your body trembled as you fucked him. Using his cock and his faith against him,bending him to your will.
Jimmy didn’t 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.
You’re out of breath now. You’re 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 didn’t care.
Jimmy finally propped himself up with his elbows. His eyes weren’t as glazed but they were dark with a hint of life in them.
That frantic edge was gone but replaced with calm devotion.
“You feel it,aye?” He asked with a shaky laugh “The quiet after. A purpose fulfilled.”
You swallowed a lump that suddenly formed in your throat “Jimmy…I-“
“If old nick sent you then this,” he explains pointing at you and then back to him “is meant tae be.”
You shudder from his words but couldn’t place if it was fear from coming to your senses or if it was from excitement.
“He promised me a sign,” Jimmy continued, reverent now. “Said when I was ready and when I’d given enough,he’d send somethin’ beautiful. Somethin’ that’d ruin me gentle.”
He sits up more now and scoots closer to you on the other end of the cross you had moved to.
“You’re quieter than I thought you’d be,” he whispered. “Kinder.”
Your heart twisted painfully.
“This isn’t—” you started, then stopped. A weird heat formed in your stomach. You didn’t want to stop him despite all your common sense screaming at you
“A gift doesnae need tae shout tae be true,” he murmured. “Sometimes they’re sent tae stay.”
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 Jimmy’s 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 weeks—vanished into thin air as if it had never existed—and 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 wasn’t on your side.
A pair of Jimmies—always goofing around and messing about—managed 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 avoided—and 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 didn’t 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 quiet—
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.
“What’s so funny?” you asked.
“Ah, nothin' at all. Looks like Old Nick still isn’t ready to have me joinin’ his crew down below.”
“If you cared so much,” you snapped, annoyed, “you could have stayed in that supermarket.”
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.
“And leave ya wanderin' this world all on yer own?” he said softly, with a poisonous sweetness. “I could never, luv.”
The tiara was still perfectly in place, nestled in his hair as if the run hadn’t 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.
“C'mere,” 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.
“Good girl,” he whispered, the grin slowly widening across his lips, revealing rotting teeth in a satisfied wolfish smile. “Ya ran like a proper lioness out there. We’re unstoppable—me an' you.”
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.
“S-Sir Jimmy—outside… they-they could…” you stammered, voice shaking, terror still clinging to your bones.
“Shh.” 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.
“Shit, I need ya,” he growled against your lips. “I need ya, princess. I need to fuck ya right here, righ’ now, to remind meself we’re alive. That we’re still together.”
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.
“We...we can't—”
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 didn’t seem to care.
“Well, look at that... someone's a bleedin' fuckin' liar,” 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.
“Yer drenched, hen.” 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 more—deeper, 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.
“Always so responsive,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and full of wonder. “A gift straight from fuckin' hell, all for me.”
When his lips closed over a tender bruise, you moaned loudly.
“J-Jimmy... ah... faster.” 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.
“Wanna come without me, luv?” he asked, his voice scratched with ruthless amusement. “Yer so bleeldin' rude.”
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 sometimes—like now—he preferred raw urgency, freeing only what was necessary and taking you fast, hard, without restraint.
“Yer lucky today, me love,” 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.
“I'm not patient either.”
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 filled—his veins pulsing against your sensitive walls, his heat flooding you, your body welcoming him as it always did.
“There we are,” he growled, pulling back just enough to watch where you were joined, ravenous. “Home again.”
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.
“Don’t be gettin’ distracted now, sweetheart. Ya know I don’t like it.”
Before you could snap back, his tongue invaded your mouth again. He sucked yours hard, then moved to bite your lower lip until it hurt—all 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 there—so close, so fast.
“S-Sir...fuck— Jimmy, I'm close—” 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 terror—you were about to come, your body trembling uncontrollably.
“Shh, for fuckin' sake!” 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 unfazed—and probably turned on—by 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.
“Jaysus, I love when ya do that—”
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.
“Fuckin' perfect,” 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!
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯28 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 nice⎯the 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 flourish⎯towering bushes of tomatoes, potatoes, strawberries, rosemary, and echinacea.
You were content with just surviving off the plants, not needing to leave. But, for as much as the greenhouse was flourishing, it didn’t 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 routine⎯wake up, trim some ripe vegetables from the bushes, boil some rain water, eat, then rinse and repeat.
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 didn’t 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, “I feel like I owe you one.”
“You really shouldn’t have let me in, because now I won’t leave.”
“You clearly need a leader, someone to protect you. So I guess I’ll stick around once I heal.”
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 didn’t 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 weren’t exactly the most talkative. You found yourself listening and watching, noticing the small things⎯wavers 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, you’d 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 didn’t have to look to already know who it was⎯Christopher. 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.
“There you went.” He grins, “Was looking for you.”
“Yes, yeah, um, here I am..you know, preparing food.” You grumble, weakly shrugging.
“So nice of you, really.” He plops himself down on the ground across from you, stretching out his bad leg. “You’re kinda acting like my wife.”
“No, just, no, I am acting like a friend.” You correct, trying to shut down any misunderstanding.
“You do this for friends?” He chuckles, making you cringe at the sound.
“I would, I would to any other survivors that were here with me.” You nod, “It’s just kinda the thing you do, you know? Take care of each other.”
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 weren’t 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, he’d 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 couldn’t handle⎯nor weren’t ready for being touched regularly. You probably would not ever.
“Yeah, yeah.” He nods, “And you’ve been taking care of me so well.”
“Just being kind.” You tense up, scooting away from him.
“I feel..I feel in a way, that I should repay you.” He smiles, his voice trailing off in a way that you don’t like in the slightest.
“Just do your part and heal.” You force out through gritted teeth, every part of you on high alert.
“My leg may be injured, but I can assure you, the rest of me is capable of doing just about anything.”
“Really?” You tensely chuckle, “Well, you can peel these potatoes while I get the traps to see if we caught anything.”
“What?” His face falls, clearly not expecting you to reject him.
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 touched⎯not by him. You did not want to be around him⎯not right now. It was too much⎯he was too much for you. You needed silence, you needed your space, you needed your solitude once more. You couldn’t just jump into the person that you once were before all of…this. You didn’t think that they existed anymore, and you didn’t think that they’d ever be coming back. ( Y/n ) ( L/n )⎯the law abiding citizen of the UK was gone, now it was just ( Y/n )⎯the 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. You’d 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 didn’t think you could endure being inside any longer. Socializing once again was hard, or maybe it was hard because of him.
“I can help you, he says.” You mumble to yourself, “I don’t need help, don't need that kind of help. Don’t want it, not with you.”
Silence. A lush and beautiful silence greets you back. It was comforting. It was what you wanted so desperately. You didn’t 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.
“Shouldn’t have taken him in, should’ve taken him somewhere else.” You mumble, “Should’ve left him in a different manor, check in on him every other day.”
A bird chirps in the distance, followed by the low grumbling of storm clouds coming closer.
“Can still leave.” You stare down at your shoes, “Could, but shouldn’t. Not many places standing, not much left. He might be the last person for miles. Don’t wanna be alone anymore.”
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.
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't⎯people⎯other 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.
“Nah, that’s vile.” One cackles, their light welsh accent prickling your ears.
“My fuckin’ stomach hurts now!” Another whines, their tone similar to a child’s.
“Can’t believe you ate that! I wouldn’t even touch it if I had to.”
“Ugh, don’t fuckin’ puke on me!” Another shrieks, “Jimmy!”
“Oi! Leave it, the lot of ya’. Fuckin’ scaring away everything with you’re arguin’.” 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 appearances⎯blonde 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.
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 hadn’t 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.
“Hello.” He greets, as if it was the most casual thing to do.
“Hello.” You weakly mumble back, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Ah, no need to be afraid, wee lamb.” He grins, “Where are you from?”
“The garden.” Your voice cracks, nerves bubbling up at keeping the conversation going.
“Eden?” He questions, taking a step closer.
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 beautiful⎯like one of the boys from the scraps of magazines you had. He was different from Christopher, and you liked that.
“Hello.” He greets again, his voice gentle.
“Hello.” You hum back, finally finding your voice.
“You live in the Garden, eh?” He rests a gentle hand on the gate between you.
“I do.” You nod, unable to keep your eyes from his.
“Can you take us there?” He questions, “All of us to your Eden?”
“No.” You shake your head, licking away some blood from your bottom lip.
“No?” He raises a brow, his lips quirking in amusement.
“You’ll have to leave your weapons, all of you.” You glance to the others over his shoulders, “I don’t like violence, enough of it outside, don’t need it inside.”
You expected him to argue, to protest heavily. But, he didn’t⎯he doesn’t. 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 you’d 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.
“Aye, we will.”
“Thank you.” You nod, “I’m making lunch. Would you all like some?”
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 ‘thanks’ and ‘thank you’ 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.
“How long have you been living here?” The girl in blue asks, “It’s pretty.”
“Six 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 wasn’t for this place.” You explain, handing out another small bowl.
“Aye.” Jimmy nods, “Or perhaps, it was the work of a divine being.
“Thank you.” The boy in green nods, eagerly chugging the contents of the stew.
“You’re welcome.” You nod, “There’s more if you’d like seconds, or some fresh strawberries. The garden has been kind and been producing more than I could ever eat on my own.”
“Can’t we?” The boy in red questions, looking to Jimmy for approval.
“Aye, aye, have your fill. Leave enough for her, wouldn’t be kind to let our sweet host here go hungry.” 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 you⎯watching, 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.
“What are you doing?” He hisses, his voice trembling in anger.
“Feeding them.” You whisper, trying to gently shrug him off.
“They are not guests.” He argues, his grip tightening on your arm.
“They are.” You argue, “I take care of guests, of those who ask for help. I did the same to you⎯”
“That was different.” He argues, shaking his head.
“How? How is it?” You counter back, “Because you’re you and they are them? I won’t deny anyone food, nor help. You don’t speak for me.”
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 ‘ooh’ and ‘fuck yeah’, 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 doesn’t seem convinced, his brows furrowing even more. He look on his face worsens⎯a mix of judgement, concern, anger and something else.
“Everything alright there, lass?” He questions, failing to sound casual.
“Mm-hm.” You nod, “I am, it is fine.”
“A bit of tension I see.” He chuckles, “Who is he? Brother? Friend? You’re husband..?”
“No one, really.” You explain, “He came to me a few days ago, asking for help. I helped him⎯am helping him.”
“Very kind of you. You speak so modestly, so humble of it. Truly an angel. So rare to find that nowadays, I almost don’t want to leave your garden..” He smiles, making you chuckle.
“I am no angel.”
“Ah, but you are!” He argues playfully, “I can see those wings of yours hidden by those clothes. But, I do think there is an issue with your garden, though.”
“Oh?” 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 didn’t 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 you⎯shelter, food, comfort. Offering you a gentle smile, he motions for you to sit, but you don’t move from your spot. You didn’t 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.
“Aye, yes, yes.” He nods more seriously, “I can see a snake here.”
“You have?” You question, raising a brow.
“Aye, I have.”
“It might just be a garden snake. They're actually quite helpful, keeping the rats away from the seeds. Please, do not harm it.” You explain, hoping that he hadn’t already taken care of the snake.
“No, no, not that kind of a snake. I see a black one, one that intends to ruin this garden.” He places a hand on his chest, “It would be an honor to get rid of it for you.”
“It would?” You raise a brow, confused by his generosity.
“Aye, we can’t have a snake in the garden, now can we?”
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 weren’t allowed them then, it didn’t 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 Jimmy’s room.
You knew it was his way of reaffirming his stance.
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.
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 might’ve 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.”
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.
It’s 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.
But you couldn't help the nagging feeling in your gut that any of the friendships you had made here weren't real.
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 listenin’ Jimmy’s I guess. He’s helped me a lot… sure, but I’m not a complete idiot.”
"I’m 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. "It’s just… I don't even know where to begin."
“Tracker, 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.
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 but… 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 so…" Ink's words drift off as she thinks back to that day.
“Gone, you looked already gone man. We all thought that Old Nick had already claimed you…. Are you really mad at us for this? For what we did?"
That's the poison in the well.
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 weren’t crying for them, it wasn’t sadness for their deaths.
It was a feeling you hadn’t 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.
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.
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 I’m not actually here.”
"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.”
"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?”
"Body or head?" You ask, peering up at her through your lashes.
"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. “Will 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.”
"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.”
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.”
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,” 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,” 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. “The fuckin’ names here are insane.”
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.
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.
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.
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." Was all you said, neither a greeting nor a dismissal.
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."
Jimmy lets out a short, breathy laugh. He smooths his tracksuit, his fingers lingering by the bottom as he huffs.
"That’s 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.
Even through it all, he still looks at you with an intensity you tried to pay no heed too.
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, I’m not in the mood,” 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."
“Took Russ’ fingers, matched every scar on your soft skin to his,” He nods to the healing wounds on your body. “Guess it was hard for him tae fight when it wasn’t a young woman.”
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?” He sighs as he speaks with almost a singing tune. “Jimmy 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.
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 feel…"
"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."
"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.
"I thought I lost you, y'know that?
"By almost dying." You agree but he shakes his head.
"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.
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,”
“I 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 I 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. “So I’m some queen then, s’that it? Some divine being in your head?”
“Aren’t you?” He retorts, and you frown.
“I’m not royalty Jimmy, if this is why people here are calling me ma’am and shite, I want it to stop,” You already hated unnecessary attention, and all of this didn’t help. “My name works just fine.”
Jimmy just shrugs. “You’re my equal and I am the Sir Lord, you’re exactly who you’re meant to be, but if ye want them to stop? I can do that… No guarantees though, stubborn bunch our lot.”
Our lot.
“I don’t want to be looked at like I’m anything other than human.”
“Here love? You’re exactly what they’ve been waiting for, just like me,” He just beams. “Here to guide them, love them, lead them - just like me.”
You don’t 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.
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." He cuts you off with a correction, and you ignore the warmth in your belly at the singular word.
"…Our 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.”
You eye his hand, now void of any reminders of old men and cruelty.
"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.
Devotion, warmth, protection.
It all meant the same thing at the end of the day.
"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.
"You’re 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.
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 ‘bout that.” 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." 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.
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.
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.
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.
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 weren’t allowed them then, it didn’t 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 Jimmy’s room.
You knew it was his way of reaffirming his stance.
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.
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 might’ve 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.”
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.
It’s 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.
But you couldn't help the nagging feeling in your gut that any of the friendships you had made here weren't real.
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 listenin’ Jimmy’s I guess. He’s helped me a lot… sure, but I’m not a complete idiot.”
"I’m 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. "It’s just… I don't even know where to begin."
“Tracker, 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.
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 but… 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 so…" Ink's words drift off as she thinks back to that day.
“Gone, you looked already gone man. We all thought that Old Nick had already claimed you…. Are you really mad at us for this? For what we did?"
That's the poison in the well.
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 weren’t crying for them, it wasn’t sadness for their deaths.
It was a feeling you hadn’t 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.
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.
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 I’m not actually here.”
"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.”
"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?”
"Body or head?" You ask, peering up at her through your lashes.
"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. “Will 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.”
"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.”
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.”
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,” 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,” 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. “The fuckin’ names here are insane.”
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.
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.
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.
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." Was all you said, neither a greeting nor a dismissal.
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."
Jimmy lets out a short, breathy laugh. He smooths his tracksuit, his fingers lingering by the bottom as he huffs.
"That’s 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.
Even through it all, he still looks at you with an intensity you tried to pay no heed too.
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, I’m not in the mood,” 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."
“Took Russ’ fingers, matched every scar on your soft skin to his,” He nods to the healing wounds on your body. “Guess it was hard for him tae fight when it wasn’t a young woman.”
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?” He sighs as he speaks with almost a singing tune. “Jimmy 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.
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 feel…"
"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."
"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.
"I thought I lost you, y'know that?
"By almost dying." You agree but he shakes his head.
"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.
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,”
“I 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 I 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. “So I’m some queen then, s’that it? Some divine being in your head?”
“Aren’t you?” He retorts, and you frown.
“I’m not royalty Jimmy, if this is why people here are calling me ma’am and shite, I want it to stop,” You already hated unnecessary attention, and all of this didn’t help. “My name works just fine.”
Jimmy just shrugs. “You’re my equal and I am the Sir Lord, you’re exactly who you’re meant to be, but if ye want them to stop? I can do that… No guarantees though, stubborn bunch our lot.”
Our lot.
“I don’t want to be looked at like I’m anything other than human.”
“Here love? You’re exactly what they’ve been waiting for, just like me,” He just beams. “Here to guide them, love them, lead them - just like me.”
You don’t 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.
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." He cuts you off with a correction, and you ignore the warmth in your belly at the singular word.
"…Our 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.”
You eye his hand, now void of any reminders of old men and cruelty.
"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.
Devotion, warmth, protection.
It all meant the same thing at the end of the day.
"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.
"You’re 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.
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 ‘bout that.” 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." 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.
He’s toying with you, his thumb sliding down your covered slit, feeling the slick that seeps through the worn fabric before it finds it’s way back to your clit.
You shiver again, your free hand reaching down to grasp at his wrist, but you don’t 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. “My dirty girl,” 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.
“Hm?” He whispers, pretending innocence as if his hand wasn't between your legs. “Can’t 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 Jimmy’s 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 can’t -.”
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 f’you.”
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, y’feel 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 ye”.
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.
“No,” He mutters, bringing his hand to cradle your jaw while his lips skim over the shell of your ear once more. “Wanna feel you, all of ye, inside.”
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 you’d 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.
“Hello?” Josie whined, nudging you again when you decided to drink your tea instead of talking. “He was loud. Like, loud loud, damn near kept me awake.”
Lou covered her mouth, eyes bright. “We 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 didn’t 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."
“I got on top?" You said simply, finally peering up at the others as you sip.
Silence hit the room like a dropped plate.
"Sorry?” Josie said flatly.
Lou blinked. “Oh 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.
“That’s...” Lou exhales. “That’s not something he just lets happen, there's gotta be more to it.”
"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.
“You're back,” 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. “My room tonight?” He murmured. “I've found myself missin' you a fair bit 'n think we're due for a catch up... Don't ye think?”
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. “Aren’t I supposed to be seeing you tonight?”
Jimmy didn’t 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. “No,” He said plainly. “I’ll be seeing you tonight, if ye will have me?”
The room went very quiet.
If you will have me.
Elsie’s smile faltered, confusion flashing across her face before she masked it. The others exchanged looks, some sympathetic, some openly resentful.
Jimmy’s 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.
“You don’t mind,” He added softly, more statement than question. “Do 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 Elsie’s heartbroken expression and then back to Jimmy’s 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, I’m 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 you’d 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.
“It'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 didn’t 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 'I’m 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. “Such 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 hadn’t 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? You’re 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.
“But 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 aren’t 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."
“I am,” You replied, resting your head further into the junction between his shoulder and neck. “Out there with them, I’ve never been safer until I found you all.”
That truth unsettled him more than anything else you’d ever said.
Because love, he was learning, didn’t 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.
“Feral, hey,” Jimmy Ink whispers, already halfway into your room like urgency had pushed her through the door. Her face looked pale in the low light. “Ye 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 should’ve 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, s’not safe.”
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 Jimmy'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.
“What is going on?” 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,” 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 didn’t look at you, her eyes trained on the women she had turned in. Just continuously swinging her legs as she sighed.
“She 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,”
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 wouldn’t 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.
"They’re yours now," He whispers, loud enough for the weeping women in the pit to hear. "I’ve 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, they’ll be loud.” 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.
“You’re gonna stop drinking that tea of yours too,” He groans softly, rubbing himself against your behind as the screams came now from just one woman’s mouth.
They let Josie suffer, true to your order.
The Jimmy’s took their turns with their weapons as the others quietened down. “You’re gonna stop, and I’m gonna make sure it takes, s’that alright?”
Your attention was stuck too much on the carnage, fists clenched, jaw tight as you didn’t blink.
The other Jimmy’s all grinned from where they stood, some standing with streaks and splatter of blood on their suits.
“Mm, don't fret,” Jimmy pressed another kiss to your neck, pressing you even further into him.
“Gonna make sure you’re full of me, feeling me leak everyday until you’re carrying me everywhere,” He groans again, murmuring more dirty thoughts as if you both hadn’t just ordered the death and torture of a group of women you lived with merely metres from you.
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