barbara

[snoopyoftheday]

snoopy of the day

[bad-love]

I just wanted to add this quote from the peppermint patty peanuts wiki page about Charles M. Schulz and his relationship with his gay cousin. The source here leads to a book that I did not read but the original source is Schulz's wife who confirmed this in an interview. If I can find the interview again I will link it here but uh. just in case someone tries to claim Schulz was a homophobe on this post again.

[mizmog]

GANG AU! DEALER! JIMMY INK x F! READER

Summary: the weekend couldn’t come quick enough after your interaction with ink trying to suppress the voice in your head telling you there was an alterioir motive to the girl in reds words..and actions

Chapter 4: I only Party4U

The last few days blurred into one. Distracted by the infinitum of thoughts that swirled beneath my skull, I was in a constant state of a day dream, in school, in the bath and especially in bed. Night after night I layed up with my head to the ceiling questioning why the events of the last week had taken place how they had taken place and what it meant for me now.

Even after restless nights, I still had no clue. My body felt heavy going through my day to day, getting ready, doing revision; I couldn’t keep my thoughts in one place for more than a second.

It dawned on me that it was now Friday night, my thin blanket that remained at the bottom of my bed now sprawled out over me as it had been since I sat on my bed since arriving home from school.

My mothers tone of concern as I walked through the door still rang in my head “hiya lo-fuckin’ hell hun you look like boiled shite you okay?”

I had sighed forcing a tired smile across my lips trying not to wince at the mention of shite“yeah mum I think I’m due on feel a bit ill but I’ll be fine I promise.”

She hadn’t believed me. She always read me like a book it was actually scary. Even so, she had gave me a peck on the forehead and left me to go to my room. I hadn’t told her, of course. I didn’t need her worrying plus she would remind me of the path my dad took. He wasn’t around anymore and my mum was never specific on why but she made sure to drill it into me that he had a good reason; he was a good man. I believed her as I had no reason not to.

My mum was the type of woman who took no shit. She was always my biggest supporter and protector; rational and reasonable always keeping me in check. I admired her deeply and every time someone would tell me I looked or acted like her my chest would glow with pride. But saying that I know there were certain things I needed to figure out on my own.

The thought came to me almost as quickly as I jumped out of my bed grabbing my A3 sketchbook and ripping a page out of it before returning to my bed with a thud.

Splitting the page into two sections I labelled them “what I know” and “what I don’t know”. It seemed silly but realistically if this could help me organise my thoughts then so be it.

I think for a second before I start writing:

“What I know”-

I’ve on okay terms with sir lord jimmy crystal

Ink knew where I lived without me telling her

Ink gave “charity” to the creepy lad from the party

Jimmima assumed I was staying with ink

Shite is still pissed at me

Charity is what the jimmies do when someone fucks with their sir lord

Party on Saturday

I sigh as I struggle to conjure up anymore points to add. I kick myself for not asking ink about what Jimmima had said. Everything was so overwhelming to comprehend and I tried to suppress the feeling that grew in my chest at the thought of ink and her presence.

“What I don’t know”

Why Jimmy crystal invited me to the party

If I’m safe

If I should tell my mum what’s going on

What I can do to make things right with shite

What im going to wear for the gaff Saturday

How I felt about ink

My eyes freeze on the last point as I beg the question again in my head. How do I feel about ink? She made me flustered in her placement of her hands on my skin as if by nature she knew of the pressure points that make me feel weak in the knees. Even when she grabbed my face, her fingertips would soften ever so slightly over my cheek. I tried to suppress the thought of the look she gave me in the car and definitely tried to ignore the way her eyes would dart to my lips every so often.

Every movement she made was subtle but never lost on me. My mind craved conversation with her. I needed to know who she was what she liked and how certain things made her feel. She was scary but it enticed me even more as I Paired it with what Jimmima had said when I had helped her with dishes, I knew I wasn’t the only one who caught on to inks demeanour change, except it was obvious there were sides of the story I was yet to be filled in on. The time I spent with her was brief but I’ve always had an addictive personality. It doesn’t help she seemed into it in her own odd twisted way.

The thought of her not hesitating to shove shite off of me made me conflicted with how easily she had shoved me against the wall and grabbed me so aggressively when I had spoke out of turn. It felt like a cradle and slap on the head but I couldn’t stop revising and rehearsing every movement and breathe without overthinking it.

I suddenly remind myself of what ink had said in the car over shite. I wasn’t stupid I knew his reputation I had seen his temper snap and had also been held at knife point by him. I had no idea how to get him off my back: he could protect himself, he had money, he had equally insane mates and I had fuck all.

I grunt heavily as I throw my body back into my support system of pillows and a blanket; throwing my hands over my head I rest into myself and decide to call it a night after all it was Friday night,deciding that and the jimmies, ink and Jimmy crystal were Saturday’s problem.

———————————————————————————

My body woke with alarm. Hair covered my face and feel into my mouth as pressure increased around my middle, feeling two thighs pressed against my sides. As my eyes shoot open, my arms swing up as my adrenaline speeds through my viens.

“WOAH woah r/n calm it.”

My blurry vision finally focused on the form and face in front of me. Rose.

“Jesus Christ rose I almost decked you,” I say with an exasperation sigh,holding onto the sides of her arms. Her presence was less alarming as my mum would’ve allowed her into the house, it being her second home of course,“what’s going on why are u here?”

“Well, sorry for checking my bestie was still alive,” she giggles lightly before a more serious, though still light,expression dawned on her face, “no but seriously,girl I haven’t heard from you all week are you okay? Look I know last Friday was a shit show but I promise you will never have to be around Micheal or his little gang friends ever again.”

She smiles softly as her reassuring tone is like honeydew, further reminding me of how grateful I was to have someone so mad and fiercely loyal to me in my life. However, this feeling was also accompanied by the dread I felt knowing I had to spill everything that had occurred the past week. She noticed the smile on her face wasn’t reciprocated on my own and her face dropped with a mother’s concern.

“R/N. What?” She spoke in that tone I couldn’t disobey.

The next half an hour had felt quite on Rose’s end as I practically word vommited at her without a breathe between words. I told her everything. From the police chase and the bag how Jimmy crystal acted towards shite and eventually led to my confession of how ink had played the whole thing out and how the conversation in the car led me to even further conflicted feelings. I stare at her as her face falls further and deeper into levels of shock and confusion I had yet to see from her before.

“Well?” I ask desperately awaiting a response as the silence became deafening.

After a long draining pause, a sudden burst of laughter echoed around the room. Rose’s head swings back as her laugh became a cackle.

“‘WELL?’- R/N you are mad. Absolutely insane. I can’t believe you. Since when do you hang around with gangsters. Fucking hell I leave you for a week and you find yourself in a gang HAHAH,” she wipes a tear from her eye, her reaction leaving me in a state of shock, “no but how did that Jimmy ink know where to drop you off. Bit sketch that like-“

“Girl I don’t know,” I huff as I lie back down, “but she did invite me to another gaff-it’s tonight.”

“YOURE LYING OH MY GOD.”

“I mean what do I do? If my mum finds out I’m hanging out with a gang she’ll slap me stupid like I KNOW better- I should just fuck it off and go uni somewhere like 5 hours away,” I chuckle slightly before reality sets in, “Rose she’s gonna be here at 9.”

She smirks slightly before standing up off of my bed with a proud clap of her hands “right, first of all, you’re not fucking off 5 hours away so get that out of your head RIGHT now, and second of all, WE will be going tonight.”

I scoff slightly at her suggestion “rose fuck off that’s not happening I’m not letting you put yourself in harms way because of my stupid actions.”

She shakes her head softly “Nope nu-uh not hearing it if you think I’m letting you go by yourself you’re deluded.”

Knowing she wouldn’t let up I agree with a disobedient huff knowing Ink was getting double trouble rather than a sacrificial lamb tonight. Praying silently it won’t be an intrusion to Jimmy crystals space, but something eased in me as I realised the favour Jimmy showed towards me against shite. As the thought crossed my mind another creeped up behind it, it was morally questionable but if there was anyone who could help me solve it-it was rose.

“Hey so remember that Jimmy shite who was nicked from our school?”

“Yeah I was speaking to him for a while,why?” A smirk of pure mischievousness was plastered across her face. We exchanged a look similar to the one ink had given sir lord jimmy crystal at the dinner, at least we had that in common; we both had someone we could speak to telepathically.

———————————————————————————-

The evening had went almost paralleled to last Friday except me and rose were getting ready together this time. My room had looked like a bomb had gone off: clothes sprawled all over in the stress of picking an outfit, setting powder fragments over my desk, a speaker at full volume blasting my playlist and the half opened bottle of vodka that had sat by my desk since last week now poured into two cups. I looked hot as fuck. My hair curled and styled which cascaded down onto the hem of my corset top which pushed my chest up and together creating a perfect cleavage, my waist cinched; my skirt cutting off mid upper thigh.

Nerves still teased my stomach at the idea of going to sir jimmy crystals house, I couldn’t shake the feeling there was something going on under wraps and that I was still at the top of the iceberg. The noise of the night began to fill the atmosphere like I was with rose at the Jimmy house for the first time,except this time it’s different, we know what we’re for and who for. Steer clear of pissing off mr crystal get answers from ink about what the end goal is and Rose will distract shite. That was the plan anyways.

Rose had let me ramble about the girl in red while we got ready. I couldn’t help myself, it was like every thought and feeling I had felt bottled up (no matter how perverted or tame) came spilling out. Rose’s ear was a stabler in the madness of recent events, her ability to calm my spiral was a true talent.

“Wait- just so I get this right-“ Rose’s words startle me from my concentration of my pink and silver sparkly eye shadow “Jimmy crystal reckons he’s like what? The antichrist?”

I giggle slightly as I refocus my attention to my eyelid in the mirror “girl I don’t even know. But he’s got them all having upside down crosses between their eyebrows-fuckin weird,” I shake my head and scoff slightly before turning my attention to rose sitting at my desk “how do I look?”

Her body faces towards me and she lets out a breathily laugh with an almighty smirk “oh girl if ink doesn’t fuck you tonight I will.”

I cackle loudly and stand to get my drink left on my bedside; table taking a sip the harsh, bitter taste lingering in the back of my throat. Checking the time, 8:52, a long huff breaks through my lips making rose glance toward me with a dissatisfied smile.

“Please chick it’s gonna be okay. They might be violent and weird but I’m not scared of them and neither should you; if you feel like shits getting sketchy then we leave,okay?” Her expression stern with that motherly authority she held even though she was only a year older than me.

I giggle softly attempting to dissipate nervous energy, “yes of course. Also, you think Micheal is gonna be there?” I raise an eyebrow

Rose blows a raspberry, her lip liner clashing together in a disproving scoff “fuckin hope not he’s been messaging me like non stop even though I told him to fuck off like seventy million tim-“

Her words were cut off with the sound of a loud car horn. We both stare at each other as we mirror each others smirk. Quickly, we made our way down stairs grabbing our small bags and my white fur coat on the way. As rose puts her heels on I touch up my lip gloss in the mirror in my hallway.

“Your ride here,love?” The sound of my mums voice breaks my concentration on my lips.

“Yeah- me and Rose got invited last minute to an 18th,someone she went to primary with!” My voice was laced with false excitement as I motion towards Rose’s direction. My breathe hitched out of instinct as her face contorted into a completely unamused expression.

“Bit of an aggressive honk wann’it? Who’s giving you a lift?” Her arms crossed over chest as she leans against the staircase. I curse her intuition.

“Emma’s older sister,” Rose’s voice enters the conversation before mine can, “don’t worry Mrs R/L/N I’ll get us an uber home safe.” I look back at rose with as much gratitude as I can, her face feigned with cherub like innocence; absolutely brilliant at it.

Staring at us both she relaxes her body with a huff “okay good, thank you rose. You both look gorgeous, though that skirts more like a belt R/N…”

I scoff at her words playfully “mum please we have to go!”

She chuckles as she pulls me into a hug whispering a soft “be safe.” As she does. Slamming the door behind me turning my key into the lock, my eyes land on that all familiar red and white tracksuit.

Linking with rose, we walk to car as best we can with our heals clacking against the gravel of the road. Ink was outside the car leaning against the driver door her hands enclosed in front of her. Her face contorted into a confused snarl at the girl intertwined with my arm.

“Hey ink!” Rose says with a faux friendly smile before immediately getting into the back seat leaving just me and ink outside of the car.

“The fuck is she doing?” Ink turns towards me almost completely baffled at Rose’s audacity. A cruel snarl making its way to her lips.

“You really think I’m gonna come to one of yours gaffs alone?” I snarl right back at her.

She steps closer to my frame making my heart almost beat out of my chest. “I told you Jimmy invited you, YOU, no one else. Don’t know if you’re just a fucking idiot but if you can’t seem to remember for whatever reason, you originally pissed Jimmy off for inviting yourself to his house now you’re inviting other girls?”

I laugh right in her face at her attempt at name calling “well you must’ve hit your head since because lest we forget, last time I was alone at jimmys gaff one of your monterex ninjas tried to force himself on me, so yeah, I’m not taking that risk again.” I step even closer invading her personal space her nose inches from mine smiling as calmly as I could “okay?”

I don’t even wait for her response as I walk to the passenger side of the car getting in and fastening my seatbelt. There’s a hesitation in inks action to get into the car that makes the rest of the car ride slightly awkward.

After 15 minutes, we arrived. The car pulled into the front of house in the same spot it was parked when I had been driven home by ink earlier in the week. The shadow casted on the house from the outside lights was ominous but the rainbow stream of light from inside flashed through the windows.

Ink was the first to get out following rose from behind me. Ink had caught me off guard, as I had turned to unfasten my seatbelt she had made her way around the car and had opened the passenger door for me. At first, her eyes refused to meet mine, until they did and she motioned for me to make my way out of the car and to the house. A small glow beamed from my chest at the gesture; chivalry was clearly inks form of a weak apology.

Smiling softly as I got out of the car muttering a soft gratitude, rose caught my eye which turned into an almost manic smirk her eyes wide in response to the interaction she had just witnessed.

Ink entered the house first, the familiar feeling of the base of the speakers flooding my system as the door opened, the heat of bodies making me drop my fur coat from my shoulders almost immediately. Ink moved smoothly from the house shoving one lad who seemed too drunk too early out of her way which led him crashing into a nearby wall, it had caught me off guard that a loud laugh escaped my mouth which caused ink to turn around for the first time since we walked through the threshold; she had tried to hide her smirk by turning around but nothing she did got passed me.

Making our way through the sea of bodies, we land in the kitchen where I’m met with the sight of most of the Jimmys; except for Jimmima and Jimmy Jimmy. Jones and snake where by the make shift bar both flushed in the face and keeping close to each other.

“Oh Hey!!” Jones greets ink with a hug and surprisingly embraces me in one too, snake nods his head without much to say “you back already huh?” They whisper barely coherent but I just managed to catch it.

“Haha, yeah- may as well get my own room at this point.” I giggle lightly as I pull away from the embrace.

“The only people who need to get a room are you two.” A loud Welsh accent cuts through our conversation; turning to see fox and shite leaning on the opposite counter.

“Come on ink you know what sir lord is like..cannea bring a bitch in the house he doenea like dogs.” Shite bites through hooded eyes, clearly my lack of presence during the week gave him enough time to stew that come back.

I hold back a snark as I fake a smile “shite, always a pleasure.” I ignore fox completely as I come to realise he’s just a yes man for the slightly taller Scottish lad. This however earned me a cold glare that made jones and snake move out the way laughing amongst themselves as shite moved closer towards me and ink; fox close behind him. The way he moved attacked the atmosphere around me, but I didn’t shy away, he opened his mouth as if his mouth was a loaded gun preparing to shoot me down and destroy any confidence or safety I felt but it was just what I needed to bite back first.

“You remember rose right?” I ask quickly stepping back softly before springing back with rose in tow. This made shite step back slightly. Checkmate.

I could not stress this enough if I tried but rose was gorgeous. Like, the type of girl shite would shag and eventually fall for;well that was the plan anyway. And shite was…not so blessed. He knew it she knew it and it was a massive gamble because he wasn’t stupid; some girls would fawn over drug dealers due to the reputation free stash and the money but shite wasn’t just a runner for Jimmy crystal he was a soldier. The dinner with Jimmies made me realise crystal made it clear they had a mission; and if Jimmy had told shite not to have any fun tonight then he wouldn’t. I begged to god the universe and even old nick for Rose’s advances to work.

“Hiya shite long time no see.” Rose wraps her arms around his neck seductively and kisses him on the cheek softly before letting go. Fuck yes rose. For once, his face dropped. I held my breathe as I waited for his response as he looked between me ink and rose.

“You cannea be seriou-“ shite had started but rose was faster.

“Sorry, I’m just really greatful that you beat the shit out of that Micheal for slipping something into my drink last time I was here.” She controlled her tone to be smooth as silk and even though in heels made herself seem small, this however caught shites attention.

“Who told you that?” He peered down at her with an accusatory snarl arms crossed his chest losing the gap between them tension building.

“Oh you know,” she takes a puff of her vape and blows the smoke right into his face.

My heart races and my head spins to ink but she seems entertained. Her eyes meeting mine a smirk reached her face as she motions to the pair behind me again. Turning back around I brace myself for a fight.

“You wanna drink?” Shite asks with the same coldness in his voice as before as if he were still interrogating her.

“As long as u don’t spike it!!” She answered cheerily as she grabbed him away from towards the bar not letting him glance back at me and ink. Fox looked at me and scoffed as he walked away. I tried to hide a prideful smirk (key word tried) but it seemed almost impossible because the plan had worked.

Turning back towards ink she had that same entertained smirk on her face. I stepped closer to her as she grabbed a private stash of bottles from the fridge in front of her and poured us both a drink.

“What?” I ask softly, I wasn’t complaining to see her smirk so long as she had soft dimples you could only see close in the light;I was soaking it in.

She handed me the cup and faced me. I felt compelled to mirror her expression as she scoffed playfully, “oh come on.. don’t start with the whole clueless act. You know exactly what you just did; I’m just surprised you pulled it off.” She grins at me as she takes a sip out of her cup. Her eyes remained on my face.

I roll my eyes playfully trying to contain my relief and giddiness “well you underestimate me Jimmy ink. Plus, I actually did nothing rose did all the taking,” I step slightly closer to her “I told you I’d figure an in with shite, rose felt bad about ruining my night last week and wanted to make sure shite didn’t ruin it-plus I think she still thinks he’s fit so win win.” I shrug and giggle at her wide eyed expression

“She finds HIM fit?” She shakes her head softly in disgust as I continued to laugh.

“I’m not even joking I said the exact same thing when she told me she was speaking to him months ago. Don’t know exactly what she saw but I’m not one to judge.”

An hour or so had passed and me and ink had been generous in the pouring of our third drink which had led to us being more tipsy than either of us had registered. We had joked with jones and snake over the sight of shite and rose on the couch (both pretending to be tame knowing individually were both bat shit insane) before making our way to the living room an hour later dancing against each other, before making our way back to the kitchen pouring another drink when I notice her eyes bare into me as if she was looking for something she couldn’t find, i tilt my head slightly to the side curiously,“what?” i ask cautiously with a squinted brow.

Inks braids move against her face as she shakes it side to side “nothing.” She mutters into her cup taking a bigger gulp than expected.

“No seriously what it is? You keep looking at me like that what is it?” I ask pressing into her more. I take a risk and reach out brushing her arm lightly.

Her gaze becomes fixated on my hand pressing lightly on her upper arm, the bitter liquid seeping slowly into my veins gave me an increasingly intense surge on confidence. Eventually, her deep brown eyes make me feel like putty as I’m put under a gaze, different then her usual routined unbothered aggravated or amused expression.

“You’re intoxicating. Every time you’re near me I cant focus on anything else.” Her tone was a mix of awe and lack of confidence. As if on cue her head snaps back towards the party in front of us, the usual mix of emotion returning to her face, as she takes another gulp of her drink. I’m stunned. I thought I imagined the tension between us but this made every thought I deemed delusion reality. The party boomed around us but all I could watch was the confusion brewing in her brow, other than that the world filled with silence.

Suddenly, that silence is broken as ink moves away muttering something along the lines of “I have to go to talk to the sir lord.”As she moves away and disappears into the swallowing crowd, my heart races in my ears as I can’t help but chase after her. I refuse to not take my chance after all the hell of turmoil I’ve been put through the last week, I deserve this, so does she.

Pushing through the sweaty crowd her red jacket guided me like a moth to a light, like a phoenix to a flame, I couldn’t resist shoving the bodies In my way desperation filling my movements as I continued to make my way through the living room and watch as the red haired girl makes her way up the stairs, I giggle softly at myself , again with the stairs.

I quickly kick off my heels in the hallway and run up after her watching as she turns the corner at the top. I couldn’t feel my body as it moved forward. Pure instinct intuition or madness I’m not sure but my body craved to follow where she went. Turning the corner on the upper floor I come face to face with the door I had seen slam behind her. My breathe hitched as my body continued to move opening the door and slamming it behind me as ink had done before me.

My eyes opened, slowly. I hadn’t registered how long they had been closed. But the swirl of warmth and dissipating desperation filled my soul, I couldve cried. My lower back supported by two strong hands, as my own supported each side of ink’s cheeks, moving in slow circles in motions of comfort. Our lips once intertwined now slowly falling away from each other as we both suffer from shaky breathes and attempts at slow breathing.

Inks hand snaps to my wrist, forcing me back into the room, feeling like I wanted to be swallowed whole as my eyes widened. Fuck. Why did I do that. She could kill me. She should kill me if say thank you. She’s such a prick why am I doing this to myself.

My thoughts feel like they’re about to bust out of my brain. “Shit ink I’m sorry I don’t know why I di-“my blurt of apologies were cut short as her hand on my wrist travelled to the back of my head, guiding our lips to interlock again, as her other hand pulled her hips closer to mine. A desperate hum of aggressive satisfaction filled the room as she forces my body against the door with a messy shove. We almost move in synch to the base below as my hands wrap in between her braids, holding on as if she was filling me with the only oxygen in the room. Her lips pressed so softly against mine, nothing but complete attraction and warmth filling my body. Her tongue breaks into my mouth, dancing with my own rather than a fight for dominance as we both relax into each others hold. Pressure built up almost immediately in my core, less of a want and way more over a need, completely overwhelming my senses.

With a small gasp we break apart. Panting desperately not just for air but each other. She tastes of vodka and sweet bitterness, her hold was a soft dominance that held me together at the response of her touch. Ink holds onto my cheek, so softly it spoke as an apology for every time she had dug her nails into the sides of my jaw. She places her forehead to mine, light illuminating my vision as my eyes open slowly. Inks freckled complexion in this way could’ve of brought me to tears. She was a fallen angel; A real heretic. I felt every speck of corruption in her soul and wanted nothing less than all of it. Her breathing slowed as she caught her breathe, eyes still shut as if scared to open them and be faced with a sudden rejection; or something worse.

“Ink..” I whisper softly untangling my own hand from her hair and to her face.

A harsh shaky breathe is released from her nose and her face moves an inch further away as her deep brown eyes meet with mine. She doesn’t speak, and for once neither to do I. I took in every detail of her face: the scarred lip and cheek, every dot that seemed to be placed by old nick himself,her wispy lashes, her symmetrical brows, the small concave that appears more when she smiles and back up again to her eyes, which had stayed on me exploring in a different way. Ink looked at me like she was trying to find something cynical, something to stop her, making her hesitate more than I had bare witnessed to before.

Suddenly,the hand that rested on my cheek hoisted up my bare left thigh, resting it against her hip and edging her knee in between my legs pressing softly into my core. My eyes widened and chest rose and fell at a quicker pace, falling under inks gaze I couldn’t help but smirk excitedly. Leaning in closer to my face her gaze darts from my eyes then down to my lips switching between the two again.

“Kelly” She whispers lightly, I barely heard it.

“Kelly?” I ask softly tilting my head slightly to meet her eyes.

Reciprocating my tilt, she lets out a lightly laugh, “Kelly.”

I giggle softly bringing my other hand to her other cheek, holding her face in my hands, “Kelly.”

Ink, or Kelly now, closed the gap between us taking my lips in between hers as I wrap my arms around her neck. Growing more aggressively I can’t stop myself from moaning into the kiss. Without warning Kelly picked up my body carrying me over to what I assumed was her bed. Lying me down, she hovers over me, smirking over my eagerness and her chance to take advantage of it.

“D’you want me to make you feel good? Hmm?” Kelly’s tone was completely shifted, she wanted something and she was utterly determined to get it, learning a trick or two from leading the other jimmies her seduction was complete dominance.

“Yes,Kelly- please.” Remembering my manners quickly she stood up and held out her hand which I took without question. Twirling me around so I’m stood facing the bed, Kelly lyes in the middle of the bed back on her elbows almost manspread with her legs hanging off of the bed.

“Show me then.” She says in full seriousness a waiting smirk appearing on her face as she takes off her jacket leaving her in a white wife beater and her gold chain on her upper body.

Instead of a verbal response, I muster as much as a seductive smirk as I can, sliding down my skirt while moving my hips in a slow and steady rhythm until they fall to the floor and I step out of them. I watch as her smirk slowly falters and her chest rises and falls excessively as she looks me up and down. I slowly zip down my corset revealing the second piece of my matching set black lace fabric and blue encrusted design. I spin around slowly grasping at my asscheeks as I spin, feeling myself up. Returning back to facing Kelly I walk slowly to the edge of the bed shaking my hips with every step, leaning over and grasping the chain around her neck In my hand pulling her up into a sitting position; my other hand resting on her upper chest.

Straddling myself over her legs, her eyes traced over every inch of my body. I had never had someone look at me in such adoration and it gave me a spike In confidence as I play with her chain focusing on that rather than her.

“I mean I could always get dressed again, If I didn’t show you enough..” my eyes dart to her face looking at her with a faux concern plastered on my face. I didn’t even register a response as I was flipped onto my back, lips and teeth collided in a desperate tango. Kelly moved her mouth down to my jaw and soft spot of my neck that made an involuntary squeal escape my mouth, moving slowly she unhooked my bra letting my tits relax onto my chest. A slight pause occurred, then she continued working her way ravenously down my torso, her head now in between my thighs.

In one attempted snap, my underwear was ripped and to the side, I gasped in disbelief and protest which caused Kelly’s head to snap up “I’ll get you new ones.”

I chuckle at her response which quickly became a soft moan. Kelly’s tongue dove into my core and entangled itself with my clit almost immediately. Out of instinct my hand reached for the back of her head and my hips bucked into her face. The buzzing in my core turned into mini fireworks as she continued working into me moaning around my core sending vibrations to my chest. As if she felt the transfer of electricity within me, her hand reached up and began to play with my breast focusing on building friction on either side of my nipple.

“Mm Kelly..” I huffed out in a moan making eye contact with her I felt that same smirk that was planted on her face before hand return. She had me right where she wanted me and I was not complaining. Sadistically, she entered two fingers into me. Unprepared by the pleasure, I instinctively cried out clutching the back of her head. Before I knew it, Kelly had crawled up and was now hovering over me, her free hand gripping both sides of my chin aggressively.

“Look at me.” Her low tone catches my attention,leading me to her chocolate eyes once more. Even through her aggressiveness, her touch was soft enough for me to relax into her hold. Her fingers slowly started to move like a wave inside of me the friction causing the sparks in my core to grow tighter. My mouth remained a gape as my eyes locked onto the pair in front of me, even when the pleasure made me feel like my eyes may roll all the way back into my scull.

As her motion sped up, Kelly’s thumb found my clit once again, circling slowly, causing my breathe to fall short.

“Kelly- Kelly please, please.” I begged in desperation painfully aware that I wasn’t making sense. My heart thumping to the base below us.

“Please what?hmm?” She asked with such mockery my cheeks grew flushed; but I could only focus on the tension that built more and more between my legs.

“Please Kelly. I need to- I need you to let me-“ I whine softly in frustration as struggle to get my words out blinded by pleasure.

A low cold laugh echoed in my ears as I open my eyes from my slow blink to see Kelly laughing over me. Seeing my gaze focused on her she leans closer barely an hair away from my lips which caused me to attempt to capture them once more, causing another laugh to leave her throat. Peering down on me as she spoke the burning inside me threatened to spill.

“I’ll give you whatever you ask for, R/N. As long as you say it out loud.” Her grip on my face tightened as she leaned in closer kissing my lips softly as her other hand continued to flow inside and outside of me.

Breaking away from the kiss with a loud gasp for air as my body attempted to release onto Kelly’s fingers, a loud moan leaves my throat involuntarily.

“plea-se Kelly make me come please can I come?” I clung onto her body in complete and utter desperation remaining my gaze on her as requested.

Without a word her lips reconnect with mine, equally desperate and quick to break away. Her fingers increase in speed around my clit causing my body to convulse beneath her, her eyes never left my complexion once even as I unfolded beneath her frame with my head snapped back in complete ecstasy; her fingers matching the ride out of my orgasm in perfect harmony.

Opening my eyes again my, as my body convulsed at the slight over stimulation my hands find the top of Kelly’s shoulders, taking in slow shaky breathes as I come down from my high. Kelly’s smirk remained on her face as I caught my breathe finally, looking back up at her I smiled softly and with little force brought her face closer to my own to kiss her softly enjoying her affectionate response after such an amazing performance.

Letting go from the kiss, Kelly moved to my side with a sigh getting up off of the bed without a word. Moving towards a set of chested draws on the right side of the room she returns back to sitting beside me on the bed as she hands me a pair of black cotton underwear.

“You’re an absolute fiend I hope you know that.” I giggle taking the underwear and standing up to put them on and re clasping my bra as I crawl over to her on the bed, laying on my side alongside her resting my head on my propped up hand.

Kelly had started rolling a spliff on the side of the bed licking the edge of the paper swiftly and punching the ends“I have no problem replacing every pair of underwear you have as long as I can see you like that again.” She scoffs turning to face me momentarily a sly playful smirk dancing across her face as she does.

My eyebrows raise at her statement, “you saying this isn’t a one night stand kind of thing?” A surprised smirk reached my face as she turned her body fully around to face me an equally surprised look upon her face.

Moving towards me, her hand brings my chin up to meet her lips. It was more intimate than the heavy desperate make out we had had, softer less tongue. “Yes, yes I am.” She says it so matter of factly that I almost forget the context into what she is responding to.

“Kelly.” I say as she stands spliff in her mouth lighting it and exhaling handing it to me which I happily accepted taking in a deep inhale.

“What?” She responded guarded, almost defensive.

I smirk playfully exhaling smoke “nothing just getting used to saying it rather than ‘Jimmy ink’” giggling lightly a slight bit of smoke got caught in my lungs causing me to cough roughly which had started to make me laugh as the weed had slowly entered my system. After my coughing fit subsided I looked up to see Kelly sitting on the edge of the bed away from me looking more towards the direction of the floor.

“Kell?” I say softly as I edge closer in her direction.

“Don’t,” she started refusing to face me, “don’t start using it. If you say it in front of Jimmy he’ll flip his shit and on old nick he’ll hurt you or me. Or hurt you to hurt me,” she sighed lowly before turning to face me slightly before returning to her original position “when we’re alone and together by all means,please do but don’t slip up; don’t get used to it.”

I stopped myself from making a comment on how stupid Jimmy was for getting so wound up about them using their real names but Kelly’s desperation made me decide against it. One part stood out loudly. “Hurt you to hurt me.” Being stupid wouldn’t lead to getting myself hurt anymore but the people around me I cared for most. Ink spoke like she knew from experience which made my chest feel heavy still over clouded discomfort brought by smoking.

What I did decide to do was to crawl over to inks back, using her shoulders at support I let my arms dangle in front of her beside either side of her neck; my face coming beside the right side of her face. I couldn’t help but admire her side profile as I came close to her ear kissing the side of her jaw, making my way up towards her ear.

“Well then, kellykellykellykellykellykelly,” I whisper softly in her ear “I’ll enjoy using it when it’s just us,alone,together.” I end my sentence with a big kiss to the cheek which earns me a soft, genuine pleased smile on Kelly’s face.

I leave from behind Kelly to jump off the bed picking up my corset top and skirt from the floor readjusting both items of clothing to fit as they did when I had first opened the room. Watching as ink gets up, she makes her way to a cupboard opening it the door on the inside was a body length mirror. Making eye contact with me, ink nudged her head towards the mirror, this made me smile as I walk around the Fran of the bed and correcting my outfit and hair that had frizzed and makeup that had smudged slightly.

As I finish up, Kelly had put her jacket back on and finished the end of the spliff, closing the wardrobe door I face her in my previously worn attire, spinning in a full 180 landing with my hands on my hips posing exaggerating my ass as I bent over slightly “how do I look?” I ask sarcastically

Kelly chuckles before rolling her eyes covering her face with one hand as she steps closer towards me, slapping my ass harshly, causing me to stand straight to attention. Walking past me she guided my hand from behind her to follow her out of the room stopping at the top of the stairs as she turns to face me one last time before we walked down.

“Remember what I said about slipping up. Don’t say anything even in front of jones and especially not around shite. Okay?” She asked desperately.

I smile softly caressing her cheek with my hand as I bring my lips to her own which she gladly reciprocates, easing her tense expression pulling away I take her hand in mine once again smiling playfully,“whatever you say, Jimmy ink.”

——————————————————————————-

READERS NOTE: another chapter down!!! I had so much fun writing this one!! Sorry it took forever exam season sucks ass but I will prevail!!! Hope you enjoy and thank you for all your lovely comments and likes!!💋💋💋

[s1ut4adamstanheight]

does anyone read/write jimmy ink fics anymore....

i swear, the last two months theres been like no posts for her. i need more fics of my girl 💔 im working on a fic but my ideas are running out for plot.

if anyone has any ideas plz lmk.

[lovesexdreamm]

I miss all the jimmy ink fics😭😭😭

[apolladay]

Least favorite fanfic euphemism for vagina?

* cunt

* core

* center

* depths

* opening

* entry

* hole

* well

* wetness

* womanhood

* something else

* see results

Least favorite fanfic euphemism for vagina?

cunt

core

center

depths

opening

entry

hole

well

wetness

womanhood

something else

see results

Voting ended onMay 25

[daddybils]

⠀ ⠀☆⠀⠀when⠀she's⠀the⠀perfect⠀mix⠀of⠀masc⠀and⠀fem⠀ ⠀☆

[theekosystem]

We really like that

[slushy-blog]

𝚃𝚠𝚍 🧟🐾

[sometiktoksarevalid]

[alexaloraetheris]

Chocolate Guy's Wario

[k1tk4ttt]

How I feel reading smut while being scared of intimacy in real life

[nipple-brains]

How it feels having the T tell me I'm horny but my brain hate sex

[alleycatboy]

i'm rooting for the evil women with small tits

[diamondringsandgutterbones]

"get a job" "unemployed behaviour" okay but like. girl your ableism

[heating-element]

girl your abelism. girl your inexplicable capitalistic worldview. girl your view of labour productive for capital being directly tied to your worth as a person. but also really holy shit girl your abelism!

[kattperson]

too many people wanting to fuck Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal not enough people gifing the way Ink pulled Spike behind her when Kelson appeared as Satan

[sarahsscrapbook]

I gotcha

[s4ckerpunch]

Is this too much 2 ask 4???

[juicecupcakes11]

himmmm

[forbiddenfruitofthedead]

Hate breeds anger, anger breeds emotion. Emotion is dangerous. Jimmy Ink x reader PART 2. part 1.

Angsty fluff. Enemies that secretly love each other + one bed trope. (part 3 will be smut but for now, moreeee yearning!)

Who would've thought a shared bottle of red wine to make inhibitions disappear... enjoy (thoughts always appreciated!)

.

It wasn’t the birds that woke you up in the morning, the rain was still going heavy – no sign that it had let up at all over night. What woke you up was the sudden movement of the figure beside you. She’d woken up herself seconds earlier, and ripped herself away from your warmth like a quick blink.

“Morning” you rasped out, but the greeting was met with no answer. She didn’t even look at you.

It hurt you inside, and the sound of her footsteps shuffling out the bedroom door made your heart sink. You sat up slowly, following her with your gaze. Empty, it left you feeling empty, why? You didn’t know.

There was no rush in getting up, and the space where she’d just been was still holding some warmth, so you rolled into it. The rain was going to keep the two of you in here for a while longer, so you let the sounds softly call you back into another sleepy haze.

By midday, the weather still hadn’t changed. The storm still raged with the same stubborn fury, trapping the two of you inside the cottage like insects waiting under a rock. Ink had taken up her usual post near the front busying herself with sharpening her weapons with an intensity.

You finally got out of the bed, and it took only an hour of waiting around till you couldn’t sit still any longer. “I’m going out,” you said, already pulling on your damp boots.

That got her attention immediately, her head snapped toward you, expression darkening instantly. “No.”

You paused, brow furrowing. “We need food.”

“We’ll manage.”

“With what?” you shot back, gesturing vaguely. “Dust and mould?” You couldn’t understand why she had an issue with everything you ever suggested doing. It was really taking a toll on you, and after you thought for some miracle that last night was a step forward in coexisting with her, she seemingly didn’t see it as so.

Her jaw tightened, face like stone, “You go out there in this, you won’t see what’s coming.”

You stared at her for a beat longer than necessary, something shifting in your chest as you caught the edge of it. Was she worried about you?

As if reading your mind, she was quick to correct herself, turning away with a scoff. “Do what you want,” she muttered. “You’ve got a habit of it.”

It shouldn’t have stung because her words were nothing new, not really, just another sharp-edged remark thrown carelessly in your direction, the kind you’d learned to deflect long ago. It was frustrating, how easily she could do that, how a single sentence could unravel the fragile steadiness you’d been holding onto. You felt it then, the shift in your expression, the tightening around your eyes, the kind of vulnerability you refused to let her, or anyone else, see so you moved before it could betray you, before she could read it, turning away too quickly, already heading for the door under the flimsy excuse of necessity.

The forest was soaked through, every step sinking into mud, rain clinging to your skin like a second layer. Each step dragged, as if the earth itself meant to keep you there. Cold seeped through your clothes, settled into your bones, but you pushed on anyway because sitting still, waiting, feeling… that had been worse.

It took longer than you liked. Longer than you told yourself it would. Long enough for the echo of her voice to start circling back, replaying in your mind with an edge sharper than before. You’ve got a habit of it.

A habit of what? Leaving? Or coming back?

You exhaled sharply through your nose, shoving the thought aside as your eyes scanned the forest floor again and then finally, something that made you smile. Beneath the remains of a rotting log, half-shielded from the rain, a cluster of oyster mushrooms pushed stubbornly up through decay. Better yet, surrounding them were a thin spread of wild herbs. It wasn’t a 5-star meal, but it was something. You quickly plucked them from the ground and hid them in your small pack.

You felt weirdly giddy on the walk back to the cottage, grinning despite the rain and the inevitable coldness you’d face from within. By the time the cottage came back into view through the rain, that feeling had softened, but it hadn’t disappeared entirely.

You opened the front door, already excited to share “Look what I found-”

Ink was moving before you even finished. She crossed the room from where she’d been watching out the window in two strides, fast enough that something in your chest jolted not fear, not quite, but something close to it.

Her eyes locked onto you immediately. Not on the mushrooms, not on what you were showing her, but on you. Her gaze was almost clinical, sweeping over with precision. Little did you know she was checking for blood, for damage, for anything that meant something had happened to you. At the realisation you were still whole and fine, she was flooded by warmth. The same warmth she felt looking upon your peacefully sleeping face this morning in the moments before you woke up. The feeling that had her up and bolting for that bedroom door before her instincts had her doing something she knew would cause nothing but trouble.

Not that any of this showed on her face. All you saw was a cold calculating look, before she broke the silence“…You were gone too long,” she said flatly.

Your smile faltered, not completely, “Was just trying to-.”

“Decide to wonder again did ya?”

There was no heat in her tone. No raised voice. Just that same dull, unbothered voice that was meant to show you she didn’t actually care.

“That’s not fair.”

She shrugged, already turning away, dismissing it as easily as she always did. “You’ve got a habit of it.”

Did she know more about your habits than you did? Sure, as hell seems like it. You rolled your eyes and moved past her without another word to the remains of the kitchen. You could do your best to ignore her, by focusing on the ingredients you’d found. What you didn’t see was Ink’s gaze falling back to your figure as you went.

She was honestly thrown off, having expected the usual back-and-forth.

You didn’t give it to her. She couldn’t tell if this annoyed her, or made her angry, squashing the disappointment at your seemingly ambivalent reaction. Ink stood for a moment longer, unsure of how to proceed, then she followed your direction. From the doorway of the kitchen her gaze lingered on you as your hands searched through cupboards for anything and everything that might be an addition to your cooking creation.

She told herself she was just irritated. That it was easier when you argued back, when you pushed, when you proved her right about how people always were.

This felt… wrong. You began humming, completely tuning out her cold stare and the presence of hatred that now filled the air. She stopped just short of entering the kitchen fully, leaning against the frame, arms crossing loosely watching the methodical way your hands worked, the slight sway of your hips as you rocked to an imaginary tune. You were acting like she wasn’t even there, like you didn’t have a care in the world.

She didn’t like it, or more so, didn’t like the way it made her feel. Her fingers twitched at her side, a physical want to now be by your side.

Ink’s eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze sharpening as it settled on you and on the quiet rhythm of your movements, her chest tightened.

Stop that. Stop watching. It doesn’t mean anything. She doesn’t mean anything.

But her eyes didn’t move, they didn’t want to move.

Because there was something about it, about you, like this that felt dangerously close to something she’d spent years teaching herself didn’t exist anymore.

Her fingers twitched at her side, a restless, physical urge pulling at her to step forward, close the distance, say something, anything that would put her back into that space with you instead of stranded just outside it. Don’t. You know how this ends. Her jaw clenched, tension pulling tight through her shoulders as she forced herself to look away, breaking the line of sight like it burned. The feeling didn’t stop, if anything, it got worse because now, well now she was aware of it. All those thoughts she’d been ignoring, shoving down, burying beneath routine and irritation and distance they weren’t staying down anymore. They pressed upward, insistent, clawing their way to the surface no matter how hard she tried to force them back.

Her chest tightened again, sharper this time, almost enough to make her wince. “…Idiot,” she muttered under her breath, though it wasn’t clear if she meant you or herself, and with that she abruptly turned and left the space.

The rest of the day passed in something that almost resembled peace.

Neither of you acknowledged the other. Not with words, not with glances that lingered too long, not with anything that might crack whatever fragile balance had taken hold. You existed in the same space, moving around one another like opposing currents, close enough to feel, never quite touching.

You kept yourself occupied. The kitchen offered little, but you searched it anyway, opening cupboards, sifting through remnants of a life that had been abandoned too quickly to pack away properly. You found a dented can, tucked behind a collapsed stack of mould-eaten tins, it was tomatoes. You turned it over in your hands, staring at it like it might disappear if you blinked too long. You didn’t want to think about how long it had been sitting there. Didn’t want to picture the hands that had last placed it on that shelf, or the reason they never came back for it.

Food was food and these would go rather nicely with the mushrooms and herbs.

At the back of a lower cupboard, half-hidden beneath warped wood and debris, sat a bottle of dark glass, sealed, untouched. Red wine. You let out a quiet breath of disbelief, wiping the dust from its surface, turning it slightly in the dim light. Jimmy Crystal’s voice echoing from a memory,“Wine doesn’t spoil, darlin’ - it evolves. Like me. Only gets better with age.”

By the time evening crept in, the storm had softened, the rain no longer a violent assault but a steady, quiet fall gentler, almost rhythmic against the windows. You stood over what you’d managed to piece together, staring down at it longer than necessary.

Unsure if you should separate it into two portions, or one. She’d made it clear, hadn’t she? Didn’t want you near. Didn’t want the conversation. Didn’t want your help. But she still needed to eat. You exhaled slowly, already dishing up that second makeshift serving. It was dished it into a small pot, the closest thing to a plate you had, and poured the wine carefully into a hollowed cup from your pack. Crossing the room, you found her where she’d been most of the day stationed by the front window, gaze fixed outward, ever watchful.

You didn’t speak but just placed the food and drink beside her and turned away.

Returning to your own up at a small table under the window back in the kitchen, you settled and looked out to the now gently pattering rain. The small wooden surface was meant for two and you traced a scuffed marks absently as you ate, your thoughts drifting despite yourself.

Wondering about the people who had lived here, what their days had looked like before everything fell apart. Whether they had sat here like this, sharing meals, filling the space with voices instead of silence. Whether they had left together or not at all.

You were pulled from your thought by the sound of a heavy movement. You looked up just as Ink set her food down across from yours, the scrape of metal against wood loud. She sat opposite you, or rather dropped herself into the chair opposite you, one leg folding up instinctively beneath her, resulting in her signature loose posture but ensured she was constantly on guard. The silence that now enveloped the table felt like a stand-off, almost like some unspoken game neither of you had agreed to but were both playing anyway. The ‘who would speak first’ game.

You ate. She ate. Eyes flicking up occasionally, then away just as quickly.

The 2 glasses of wine didn’t stay full for long. It was rich and strong. Leaving a trail of warmth as it slid down your throat, settling low in your chest like a slow-burning ember. You let out a small sound at the delicacy of it all, an unintentional noise that had your cheeks burning red the second it slipped from your throat. You hid your reaction by taking another few big gulps of the wine.

Ink noticed, eyes avoiding yours, locked now on the bottle up at the kitchen counter. Without a word, she stood and reached for the bottle after you’d finished your glass, standing just long enough to pour another for you first, then herself.

Such a small gesture, but one packed with meaning that neither of you had ever addressed before. You were now the one avoiding her eyes. By the time you were halfway through the second, the edges of the world had softened slightly. Not enough to dull your awareness but enough to make everything feel… closer.

Particularly the space between you. You felt the back of your neck heat up, along with your cheeks. You couldn’t help but notice the way you suddenly felt more aware of Ink, and how your stomach flipped with every movement she made. Her gaze lingered longer now, and the quite tension no longer felt sharp, but rather heavy and warm in a dangerously different way.

“How’d you make it?” Her voice cut through the quiet, low and rough, “it’s bloody delicious.”

Your eyes lifted to hers. For the first time you noticed how she was actually looking at you.

Not past you. Not through you.

At you.

You took a moment to realise she wasn’t insulting your food, but actually complimenting it. What a peculiar person this girl really was. Maybe it was the wine, or the strange comfortability of the situation now at hand, but you proceeded to go into detail around your cooking process, and she listened. Intently.

.

The conversation that followed was an odd thing, both of you were testing unfamiliar ground, but then slowly, unexpectedly, it began to flow. Not easily, not without pauses or glances away, but enough that it felt real.

The bottle between you grew lighter and lighter still, until eventually, there was nothing left. The last drops had long since been poured, and what remained was a quiet that felt different from before not empty, not tense but you were the one to break it. With a quiet sort of finality as you pushed your chair back, the legs scraping softly against the wooden floor.

“I’m going to bed,” you said, voice gentler than you intended, the words carrying a weight that felt heavier than just exhaustion.

The faint light of the sun that filtered through the heavy rain clouds had long since faded, replaced by the dark night.

Ink didn’t respond to you but she didn’t look away either. Your movement had drawn her attention fully, her gaze lifting and then stopping on your lips where it lingered, much longer than it should have.

Long enough for something low and unfamiliar to coil in your chest, tightening as heat spread through you, settling somewhere deeper, heavier. The wine didn’t dull it instead made it much much worse, made you more aware of every shift in the air between you, every unspoken thing hanging there.

Your breath caught slightly, and you turned. The wood creaked softly beneath your steps as you climbed the stairs, each one feeling louder than the last in the quiet house. You didn’t look back.

Didn’t see the way Ink’s gaze followed you. Didn’t see the way her eyes dragged downward, catching on the subtle sway of your hips as you disappeared up the staircase.

You didn’t feel the sharp, sudden pull in her chest. Didn’t hear the Don’t that echoed in her head. But she was already half-risen from her seat before the thought had fully formed.

Upstairs, the room felt smaller than it had before. You quickly stripped down to your singlet and briefs, getting as comfortable as you could as you sank onto the mattress, the familiar creak beneath your weight grounding in a way everything else wasn’t. The events of the day circled your mind in fragments: her voice, her annoyance, the way she’d looked at you, the strange, pleasant dinner, the quiet moments that didn’t fit into anything you understood about her. You pulled the thin blanket over yourself, settling into it, trying to ignore the restless energy still humming beneath your skin.

The mattress dipped. Your breath hitched. The Déjà vu struck hard, but this time, you didn’t stay still. Didn’t pretend. You turned to her before she had a moment to turn away and found her already closer than you expected. The space between you was almost nothing now, the air thick with something heavy and electric, pressing in from all sides. Her eyes were already on you, pupils dark and searching. Then they dropped to your lips again.

It sent something through you like a spark catching dry kindling. The warmth between you wasn’t just body heat anymore. It was something deeper, something that coiled and tightened with every second that passed without either of you pulling away.

Neither of you moved.

It was like standing on the edge of something neither of you had meant to reach and now that you were here, neither of you quite knew how to step back. Or if you even wanted to.

Ink exhaled first, letting out a heavy and shaky breath. It brushed across your skin, warm and uneven, carrying something far more fragile than anything she’d ever let you see before. Something raw. Unsteady. Almost uncertain.

It unravelled something in your chest. Her hand twitched slightly where it rested between you, like she was fighting the instinct to close the distance or maybe to pull away entirely.

Her voice didn’t come, didn’t need to because everything she wasn’t saying was already there, hanging in the space between your mouths, in the way her gaze kept flicking back to your lips like she couldn’t stop herself.

You didn’t want to disrupt the moment, the air between you felt so fragile, but something kept you from jumping on top of her here and now. “You hate me,” you said finally. The words didn’t come out sharp nor did they carry the edge of a challenge or the weight of an accusation. If anything, they felt tired, like something you’d been holding onto for too long, something worn down by repetition until all that was left was the quiet, aching truth of it.

Her expression shifted, just slightly, like a crack forming beneath the surface of something carefully controlled. “I don’t-”

“You do.” You didn’t raise your voice just met her gaze and held it, steady and unflinching, like you were offering her the chance to deny it properly this time.

“I don’t,” she snapped, but the words lacked their usual bite. There was no force behind them, no sharpness to cut you down just a reflex, it was automatic but didn’t quite land the way it was supposed to. Ink’s jaw tightened, her gaze flicking away for half a second before dragging back to yours like she couldn’t quite let it go either. You could see the way the words caught somewhere behind her teeth, the way her throat moved as she swallowed them back once, twice, like forcing them into shape was harder than she’d expected.

“You’re-” she started, only to stop abruptly, frustration flashing across her face. Her hand dragged through her damp wig that was obediently still in place, she pushed the synthetic hair back roughly as she exhaled through her nose. “You make things… complicated.”

A breath left you, a quiet laugh but there was no humour in it. “Complicated how?” The question wasn’t to mock her, it was genuine and honest, your voice showing the clear desperation that you felt searching for a remedy to the distrust between the both of you.

And that more than anything, seemed to undo her.

Her voice dropped, softer now, rougher as it had been worn thin by the effort of holding everything else back, “fuck it” she said, and moved in, closing the distance between you in one abrupt, decisive motion. She knew if she hesitated any longer, she’d lose the nerve entirely. For half a second, it was uncertain, hovering on the edge of hesitation, like she wasn’t entirely sure how to do this, how to cross that final line she’d spent so long refusing to approach.

Ink kissed you the way she did everything else: sudden, fierce, unrelenting in its certainty once she’d made the choice. There was no softness to it at first, no careful testing of boundaries just impact, heat, and something raw breaking free all at once. Her hand gripped your thin shirt tightly, fingers curling into the fabric like she needed something solid to hold onto, like you might disappear if she didn’t anchor you there.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was everything she hadn’t said. Everything she hadn’t allowed herself to feel for years. Everything she’d been holding back finally forcing its way to the surface all at once.

She stilled momentarily, a flicker of hesitation threading through the intensity, like she was bracing herself for you to pull away, to break it, to prove her right.

You didn’t. Instead, you reached your right hand up to cup the side of her face, to bring her assurance that you wanted this too. At the soft touch she let out a sound, and with it, the shift in her was immediate. Mirroring you, both her hands were now gripping the side of your face, pulling you in even closer, the kiss becoming deeper, messier, more desperate.  

Her heart was pounding, loud enough for you to feel it in her kiss. She’d stepped off the edge and instead of falling, she’d found something there to catch her.

.

a/n: hehe, sorry for the mild cliff hanger - part 3 will be smutty, you have been warned. Thanks to all who have read my stories so far, any and all comments are appreciated and LOVED.

[forbiddenfruitofthedead]

CHAPTER 4. "Isn't bite also touch?" Jimmy Ink x fem!oc

a/n: I'm actually super proud of this chapter, it filled me with joy to write! I love to draw out the yearning a bit, but soon Juliet & Inks worlds will completely collide. Juliet's rambling in this chapter is a collection of snippets from stories - let me know if you recognise any of them :)

This chapter is a bit more of the Jimmies dynamics as well. It doesn't go into huge detail on Juliet appearance - the story can be treated as a reader insert as well :) More reader fics coming up shortly. Enjoy xx

Tags/warnings: pre 28YL, religious manipulation, Jimmies dynamics, Obsessive behavior, stalking, near-death experiences, jimmy coded torture, yearning, pining, masturbation, slight voyeurism, psychological manipulation, Jimmy Crystal being Jimmy Crystal, Jimmima being Jimmima, zombie violence, murder, idk what else to tag. Words: approx. 7k

Chapter 1: never linger

Chapter 2: the doe

Chapter 3: look of bliss

Chapter 4: imprint of intent

It was nearing the peak of summer, about mid-June, although dates and months meant nothing nowadays. The heat wilted everything and everyone, but again, that didn’t matter anymore. No one alive got the luxury of common complaints about heat anymore.

The first gift had been the apple, and Juliet left the second gift in the form of a small bundle of delicate wildflowers.

They were nestled into Inks blanket sometime during the day when no one had been guarding camp, and patiently awaited the return of the girl in red. They were fresh and vibrant: deep violets mingled with soft lavenders, pale buttercups against sharp bursts of gold, stems carefully snapped and arranged into a loose cluster so thoughtful it was clearly deliberate. The colours glowed against the dirt covered sleeping bag before Ink snatched them up to look closer. She twisted them over in her hands, the blank look on her face didn’t reveal the jumping in her heart. No one stopped to arrange fucking wildflowers and yet here they were, and she knew exactly who they came from. Her stomach flipped, her pulse quickened, and she glanced over her shoulder, suddenly paranoid as the others laughed near the fire. She was extra careful no one could take this one from her, for these were hers alone.

She flopped down onto the sleeping bag alone in her makeshift tent, turning the bundle slowly in her fingers, memorising the way the colours bled into one another, the way the stems were knotted together with a thin strip of dried grass.

A bow. Her lips parted. “Idiot,” she murmured to herself, though she wasn’t sure who she meant.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, an image rose unbidden: wide eyes brown eyes, soft as anything, the trembling breath, lips against her skin – soft as sin. That night, when she lay down to sleep, she could still smell the flowers faintly on her fingers, and those fingers again found their way below her waist band. Brown eyes the only thing she needed to see.

.

The next morning, Ink tucked the flowers into waistband of her pants, then covered the remaining visible stems with her jacket tied around her waist. The secret thrilled her, and she moved with a spring in her step she had not noticed before. It was a weird giddiness that she didn’t think she’d ever feel, it was kinda embarrassing actually. Each slight brush of the flowers against her skin and waistband brought a small spark amusement and the movement of butterflies in her stomach. It was hers, and hers alone, a mark of attention she could not acknowledge out loud.

The flowers lasted a week before they began wilting, losing the life and colour but it didn’t matter. The bow still sat nicely tied and that was enough. Ink continued the search for her doe, scanning the undergrowth, listening for any sign of movement, interpreting the smallest noises as meaning. It didn’t take long before the others noticed subtle shifts in her behaviour, her slightly lighter step, a strangely pleasant smile on her face when someone cracked a joke, the way she volunteered for night watches and even offered to take the whole night. Crystal praised her diligence, telling her she made Old Nick very happy with her devotion.

Was it selfish? Not really, she allowed herself a strange, tangled rationale: if this doe was in fact a gift from Old Nick, then he would want her to find her again. One night, emboldened and so sure she saw a lingering shadow, she whispered into the shadows, “Come talk… I won’t hurt you.” Her voice was low, hesitant, and the silence that followed pressed against her.

Juliet had listened and ached to take the step out into the clearing. Another voice in her mind warned her to retreat, yet desire battled with caution, curiosity fighting to outweigh fear. She did not know the nature of her feelings but she felt light in the mare presence of Ink.

.

This summer was a particularly hot one. Jackets were stripped to just singlets, and any shelter was hardly doing a thing against the beating sun. One particularly sweltering afternoon, Juliet discovered a small, hidden lake, its water cool below the surface. Not far away, a waterfall provided a small stream of fresh water that also provided a steady noise to ward off unwanted visitors. After delicately stripping her thin, ripped dress, she waded in, letting the chill lap against her skin, the sensation of liquid brushing every curve and hollow of her now naked body.

Somewhere on the far bank, obscured by trees and the distance of careful observation, Ink looked through binoculars in search for a source of shelter for the group. The current deteriorating old supermarket they’d been in for a couple weeks wasn’t doing it anymore, any longer and Jimmima would probably murder Jimmy Shite in a heat driven hallucination. Her eyes scanned the landscape, slowly wondering if they’d ever run out of land to search. They’d been at this for over a decade, collecting strays as they went. She’d been the first Jimmy, closely followed by Jimmy Jimmy. But never the less, she was the first – not found, but the first kept.

Back then she hadn’t been anything, really. The shelter she’d been in for a year and a bit had fallen, and she got out, just a body dragging itself forward out of instinct, split lips and cracking skin, half-blind with dehydration. She remembered the taste of it more than anything, the dryness, thick and choking, like her throat had forgotten how to swallow.

She should have died out there, and she liked the idea of just drifting off more more than being eaten alive. She found a quiet spot to go, hidden and alone underneath a bridge.

And then he appeared. A strange, almost laughable figure at first glance, thin himself to the point of fragility, swallowed in a grey tracksuit too big for his frame, fabric hanging off him like it didn’t belong. There had been nothing weak about the way he stood. Nothing uncertain. He’d watched her for a while before stepping closer. She remembered that, the way he just observed like he was deciding something, like someone was speaking to him and telling him what he should do. He’d crouched beside her, tilting his head, studying her face with that same calm interest.

“You’re still fighting,” he’d said, almost impressed. She hadn’t had the strength to answer but he’d smiled anyway.

Water was soon given, pressed to her lips in careful amounts, as he controlled it. Every sip given was deliberate, an unintentional manipulation. It was a gift, but one that quickly turned into a leash. “You’re lucky,” he told her as she came back to herself. “Ol' Nick’s got his eye on you.”

At the time, she hadn’t questioned it and by the time she was strong enough to stand, she was already his.  At first, it was safety and structure, he gave her a place beside him, not beneath, not yet, no that came much later. Let her think she’d earned it. Through every death, every cut, every blood splatter on her face – she was different from whatever else wandered out there. Jimmy knew it, and so did Old Nick he would say. The group grew, one stray becoming two, then three, and then 7; that’s when the narrative shifted. It was with number 5 that it wasn’t just that Old Nick had guided Jimmy but that he spoke through him.

That he was the closest thing they’d ever have to the lord on earth. Ink never marked the exact moment that change settled. By then, it was already truth. Because what was the alternative? That she’d survived by chance? That the water given to her that day hadn’t meant anything? It had to mean something. She had to mean something.

Now she searched diligently and focused for a new place to call their temporary home. She shifted slightly in her crouched position, the stems in her waistband tickling her ever so slightly. An inch to the left, that’s all she had to move for the lenses of her binoculars to land on that body of water in the middle of a clearing.

She saw the girl immediately.

Inks impulse was to run down, to grab her and take a bite, but she quickly reminded herself of the delicate proximity that she couldn’t waste. Only other decision was to move quietly. Skilfully, like she’d done this before, she made her way down to the water’s edge, using the side with water rushing to mask her approach. She did not want to startle, did not want her to flee. There was a small gap in the shrubs that was clearly how Juliet had got in, from the looks of things, that was the only exit. Ink made her way to the opening, standing cross armed, suddenly strangely subconscious as to her closeness to the body she’d thought about every night the past month.

Juliet’s back was to the water’s edge, but her weak voice bounced off the surface like a skimmed rock, “Those crosses turned, upside-down, and he calls out to his children across the waters. High o'er the billows we are wafted along, Angel wing carry us” The Juliet, blissfully unaware of her predator, muttered to herself in the odd cadence of someone conversing in a story half-remembered. “Mrs Rabita was made of wood, but what could not be seen was though a trunk up top was barren, well her roots were lush and green”, Her words spun through the air, incomprehensible to anyone but her. Words were riddles, and prayers, they were some snippets of a life built on threats, and exorcisms; on the words of the father who had insisted she was a demon.

Juliet’s long, unkempt, hair clung to her back, thick with water, droplets catching the sunlight that slid across her skin. Her arms traced patterns in the water, fingers splayed, palms cupping, releasing. She bent forward, letting her face break the surface, bubbles rising and bursting. She wished to stay in here forever but forever wasn’t an option. John used to have to coax her out of water with the promise of food, it had always been the best bargaining tool. Her stomach twisted faintly now, reminding her she had been stretching time between bites too thin. Even the strange girl who lived inside stories had to eat eventually. She distracted herself, and continued her strange monologue, “All is summer. So in Spring when Mr Hickery saw her blossoms blooming there, he took root despite her bark and now there's seedlings everywhere” She laughed softly.

Unexpectedly, a second laugh accompanied hers. She’d jumped if she hadn’t froze. In the water, everything stilled, the prey suddenly aware of the predator. The predator also froze, knowing that one wrong move and the prey would bolt. Ink hadn’t meant to, but the chuckle slipped out at the strange song, carried with it an edge of curiosity. Juliet’s head tilted, confusion plain on her features. She knew it was her girl in red, but she hadn’t thought they’d meet again so soon.

At her lack of movement, Ink’s brows drew together, disappointment flashing across her face, mentally willing her to turn around. She crouched down, elbows resting loosely on her knees, the binoculars hanging forgotten around her neck. The sun sat high and cruel above them, flattening every shadow, turning the lake’s surface into a sheet of blinding silver. The doe now seemed a statue in the water, the only acknowledgement of Ink was that her voice was now silent and her hands still. Only the faint rise and fall of her shoulders betrayed that she was breathing at all. Ink knew that one wrong movement would send the doe running back into the forest; her heart jolted when the girl began to turn very slowly. The motion was hesitant as though something inside her mind was debating whether she truly wanted to see what waited behind her.

The girl with freckles like constellations and a smile that only came after death. Her girl in red. But her stories hadn’t said they would meet yet. Not today, the song had promised another week at least.

But stories were unreliable things when the storyteller was broken.

She sunk down, and water lapped softly against her collarbone as she rotated, her body remaining half-submerged, as though the lake itself were holding her there. She considered simply sinking under the surface again. For a long moment neither of them moved. Ink studied her the way a hunter studied a skittish animal: patient, deliberate, letting silence do the work. Up close, the girl looked even smaller than she had through the binoculars. All soft angles and fragile bones and wet strands of hair that clung to her cheeks.

Ink tilted her head slightly. “Y’know,” she said casually, “most folk scream when they see me pop out the bushes like that.”

Juliet blinked slowly, as if the sentence had arrived in pieces.

“I thought,” she murmured after a moment, “that perhaps you were a fox.”

Ink let out a short laugh. “Fox? I ain’t fox.”

Juliet seemed to consider this like a puzzle. Her fingers drifted through the water again, absentmindedly drawing circles on the surface. “The fox would’ve waited longer,” she said to herself. “It likes to see the ending before it speaks.”

Ink watched the movement of her hands, the way the water slipped around her wrists then moved to the her shoulders that gleamed with droplets. Juliet’s eyes, dropping every second, kept drifting back to Ink like they were tied together with invisible thread. “You gonna stay in there all day?” Ink asked gently.

Juliet stiffened. Her gaze darted briefly around the reeds, then to the place where she had entered the lake earlier, that was where Ink stood now. Juliet’s brows pinched together. “You’re there,” she said quietly.

“I am.”

“Then the path is closed.”

Ink shrugged. “Guess it is.”

Another long pause stretched between them. Juliet sank a fraction deeper into the water, her eyes now on the water’s surface as she watched a dragonfly dip its feet in then scurry away, only to return seconds later. She began speaking softly under her breath, almost as if Ink were no longer there. “If the hunter mistakes the lamb for the wolf,” she whispered, “does the lamb become the wolf?”

Ink chuckled. “Shit,” she muttered. “You always talk like that?”

Juliet looked up again, startled that she’d been heard. “The father said plain words let demons hide,” she said.

Ink’s brows lifted. “Oh yeah?” where was this girls so called father now then?

Juliet nodded. “So, stories are safer.”

Ink leaned forward slightly, resting her forearms on her knees, her hands connecting with an ease of confidence. “And what story are we in right now?” Juliet looked around the lake slowly.

Her eyes moved over the trees. “The one where the hunter meets the strange animal,” she said quietly.

Ink’s grin returned, her eyes brightening with it “And which one are you?” she lifted one hand slowly and gestured toward the shore beside her, not giving the strange girl a moment to answer. “C’mon then,” she said softly. “Animal or not. Get out the water.”

Juliet didn’t move, her shoulders tightened. “I don’t know if I should,” she admitted.

Ink raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

Juliet’s eyes dropped to the water. “You pinned me to the ground last time we met.”

Ink winced slightly, before defensively biting out, “and you’ve been watching me for God knows how long. Why would I hurt you now?” There was another beat of silence, then Ink shifted her weight and slowly sat down fully on the grass, leaning back on her hands, making her posture deliberately relaxed. “Look,” she said. “See? No knives out. No jumpin’ on you. Scout’s honour.”

Juliet stared at her. “You don’t look like a scout.”

Ink watched her, fascinated, every movement of her body, the tilt of her head, the glint of sunlight on water-dampened skin. She coaxed, gentle, patient (a foreign and weird combination for her voice), “C’mon. Hop out. Just… come closer.”

As if a switch had been flipped, Juliet obeyed, the water cascading down her form, sliding off shoulders, arms, ribcage, glinting over scars and freckles. Ink’s gaze lingered, taking in the strange, unashamed openness of her body. Her breath hitched when the girl’s chest broke the water’s surface. Her eyes locked on her as a heat pooled low in her stomach, but her growing desire was halted by the sight of a large scar that decorated her doe’s chest. An upside-down cross was etched into the skin, clearly from rough hands years ago, but the jagged lines still stretched from the top of the sternum down to the bellybutton. Breath was still caught; awe and desire mingled, a dangerous cocktail that she had little intention of controlling. Ink’s mouth parted before she realised it. Her voice dropped to a near whisper. “…bloody hell.”

Juliet stopped abruptly, toes sinking into the mud beneath the surface. “If I come out,” she said slowly, “you must not hurt me.”

Ink’s expression shifted, something almost offended flashing there. “I told you,” she said quietly. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Juliet studied her for a long moment, searching. Then she stepped forward. The water peeled away from her body with a quiet slosh as she rose completely from it, sunlight spilling across bare skin and dripping limbs.

Ink’s breath caught before she could stop it. For a moment she simply stared.

The other girl was unaware of the heat her exposure stirred, for she had no concept of desire, only having seen the look on Ink’s face late at night but had never been able to place it to a feeling. She felt now a pull, but also a deeply rooted feeling that this wasn’t right. The song had said another week. With slow, and cautious movements, she wrapped herself back in her loose fitting dress, the white fabric clinging wetly in places that left little to the imagination.

Ink’s eyes lingered and could not be drawn away. Her mouth remained open just an inch, something raw, unspoken, passed through the space between them, crackling like live wire.

“You called me a doe before,” Juliet said, unaware of the sparks flying between them.

Ink nodded slowly but provided no clarity, nor eye contact.

Juliet looked confused by that. “Why?”

Ink hesitated. Then said quietly, “Because you showed up exactly when someone told me one would.”

Juliet blinked, her head tilted again in that strange birdlike way. “Someone told you a deer would show up?”

Ink’s mouth curved slightly. “Somethin’ like that.”

Juliet thought about this, murmured softly to herself, “The forest always keeps its promises.”

Ink’s gaze slid down as Juliet stepped closer again.

Ink forced her eyes back up to Juliet’s face, trying to feign confidence that was slowly deteriorating with every rise of the doe’s chest. She felt, nervous? A feeling she’d not given the time of day for years past, but now, her breath catching in her throat, her legs suddenly weak, Juliet had no idea the power she held in this moment. It was a good thing she was sitting, otherwise she might’ve given it away.

Juliet felt the tension coil low in her belly, a thrill of fear sat heavy as she stood hovering over the other girl. She let herself tremble under Ink’s gaze, she too felt weakened knees, but that could have also been due to the lack of food. Ink’s camp hadn’t left room for a mouse to sneak in for over a week now, but she wasn’t going to stray far from their vicinity. Today had actually been the first she snuck away, the lure of the water far too appealing on the sweltering day.

Ink’s eyes drank her in, possession and awe intertwined. Her gaze slid downward again as Juliet stepped closer, the damp dress brushing softly against her legs.

“How long?” Ink leaned forward slightly, holding back from reaching out to touch. “How long have you been followin’ me?”

Juliet’s lips parted. Instead of answering directly, she murmured, “The girl walked north when the river bent like wire. The stars turned yellow and purple above the trees. The girl in red slept beside the fire, curled up at the knees.”

Ink frowned, confused. “That’s not an answer.”

Juliet tilted her head. “Time is slippery,” she said thoughtfully.

Ink exhaled through her nose. “Alright,” she said, forcing patience into her voice. “Try again.”

Juliet studied her. Then said quietly, “The moon has filled and emptied.” Juliet nodded, the faint smile on her face answered clearly enough.

Ink leaned back slightly, her doe had been watching her for over a month. A strange thrill moved through her chest. Juliet swayed softly, a clear sign of weakness having not the strength to stay standing on guard for must longer.

Ink noticed. “You can sit,” she said gently. “I’m not gonna bite.”

Juliet hesitated.

Ink softened her voice further. “Promise.”

After a long pause, Juliet lowered herself slowly to the ground across from her, though the motion was hesitant, she folded herself down onto the grass,

“Thank you-” Ink began “for the uh, flowers.” Juliet’s smile grew, and Ink liked to see it, “I still have them, see” she lifted her shirt, and the flowers peaked out from her waistband. Juliet’s face was suddenly pink, and Ink couldn’t help but mimic the smile on her face. They now sat facing each other, only a few feet apart. She felt desperate to hear her voice again, so she asked a question she so desperately wanted an answer to, “You ever come close at night?”

Juliet’s eyes brightened slightly, locking her gaze onto Ink’s, “Oh yes.” Ink felt a strange prickle run down her spine. Juliet spoke as if remembering a pleasant dream. “The fire sleeps,” she said softly. “And the girl in red sits alone with her blade. Sometimes she walks away from the others, into the cover of night, or a tent flap.”

Ink swallowed, “And what d’you see then?” she asked carefully.

Juliet tilted her head. “You look at the sky,” she said, Juliet’s voice softened further. “And sometimes…”

Ink leaned forward, aching to hear what else she’d seen.

“…sometimes the girl in red touches herself,” Juliet finished simply.

Ink’s face flushed instantly. “Christ-” she muttered under her breath. For a brief second embarrassment flickered across her expression. Something else replaced it: heat, need and desire. The knowledge that those soft brown eyes had been watching her in those moments. Her doe had seen everything. The very thought had her hot and bothered. She opened her mouth to say something else, something she knew would cause nothing but trouble-

“INKY!” The shout cut through the clearing like a snapped branch. Ink turned her head towards it, instantly bracing herself for the next call, “INKYY!” it was Jimmima’s voice calling from somewhere deeper in the forest. Ink cursed quietly under her breath.

When she looked back, Juliet was already standing with fear that had flooded her face. The doe was about to bolt. Ink lunged up and forward, caught her wrist just as she turned.  “Wait,” Ink said sharply.

Juliet twisted slightly in her grip, eyes wide. “I have to go,” she whispered.

“Just-” Ink’s voice dropped, sudden desperation slipping through the cracks. “Just tell me I’ll see you again.”

Juliet stared at her, jumping at the repeating call approaching from the treeline, “JIMMY INK!” Her eyes went back to the girl holding her wrist, the grip tightening slightly.

“Promise me,” Ink said, or more so pleaded.

Juliet’s strange smile returned. She leaned closer and whispered, “what’s a promise when they’re all already broken”

“I don’t underst-”

“I love my love with an H.” Juliet responded, now with a smile as wide as the cheshire cat.

Ink frowned, nauseated by a simple word. “…what?” But Juliet used the confusion only to slip her wrist free. Another call echoed through the forest, and before Ink could stop her. The doe vanished into the trees

.

By the time the crazed blue suited Jimmima pushed through the brush, something in Ink had already soured. Jimmima blinked, a look of annoyance on her face as she found her, “I was calling you-”

“Yeah, I heard you.” Ink’s tone was clipped, irritated in a way that didn’t quite match the situation. The two of them walked back to Camp, Jimmima talking wildly about a cat she swore she’d seen in the bushes, and that Sir Lord had called for Inks return.

When they arrived back where the others had walked to, Jimmy Crystal stood half-turned away from the others, murmuring to himself under his breath. His fingers twitched slightly at his sides, like he was counting something unseen. “…not yet… no, not yet,” he whispered. “Soon. It has to be soon.”

No one interrupted him. No one ever did.

Off to one side, Jimmy Jones and Jimmy Snake were curled up together on a grass bank, pressed close. Snake’s head rested against Jones’ shoulder, and Jones absentmindedly traced patterns along his arm. Since Snake had joined them, the two had become near inseparable.

Ink couldn’t help but feel pissed off, the others all acted normal and the day continued on, like nothing had happened. But for them, nothing had. For her, everything changed.

When night fell, they all took their designated places around the fire listening to Crystal talk about offerings and promises. When he’d finished with an excuse to go do his nighttime business, the others turned back to their own entertainment. Across the fire, Jimmy Shite snorted at something Jimmy Fox muttered, elbowing him lightly. “Go on,” Fox said under his breath, grin sharp. “Bet she won’t bite.”

Shite didn’t need much encouragement. “Inky,” he called, voice carrying just enough. “All that skulking around… people might start thinking Old Nick’s stopped gracing you with spark.”

Ink didn’t move, face turning to stone.

Shite leaned forward slightly, sensing it and pressing on, “Or maybe he never was, yeah?” he added, tone turning uglier. “Wouldn’t be the first time someone thought they were special.”

Jimmy Fox let out a low laugh. Ink would’ve brushed it off, fired something back, easy and cutting. Tonight, something snapped. Her head turned slowly, eyes locking onto him. “What’re you sayin’?”

Shite grinned, wider now. “Just wondering where you stand, that’s all. Crystal’s got his favourites. The rest of us actually earn our place.”

That landed. If only he knew the things she’d done, the ways she earnt her place. She was so far gone from her past life, she didn’t even know herself anymore.

Shite pushed himself to his feet, rolling his shoulders like he’d been waiting for this. “Just thinkin’, maybe Old Nick’s not whispering in Sir lords’ ear anymore about ya.” He tilted his head, mock curiosity in his expression. “Or worse… maybe he never was.”

Ink moved fast. Her knife was in her hand in a blink, and Shite barely had time to react before he was dragging his own free. Steel clashed without warning. Ink came at him like something feral, the others began hooting and hollering, Jimmima giggling as she watched the dance with excitement.

Shite staggered back under the force of it, blocking, swearing. “Hit a nerve, didn’t I?” he shot back, though there was strain creeping in now.

Ink didn’t answer. She lunged and sliced, it was a clean slice, too close. Shite twisted away, boots skidding, barely recovering before she was on him again. He swung and caught her shoulder. She didn’t even flinch, didn’t seem to feel it or she just didn’t care.

This wasn’t a spar, and the skills were outmatched. Ink caught his wrist mid-strike and twisted hard. The knife dropped from his grip with a dull thud. Before he could react, she drove him down, wrenching him back into a brutal headlock.

Her blade pressed tight against his throat, “Go on,” Ink whispered, breath hot against his ear. “Say it again. Tell me I’m not chosen. Go on,” she hissed, “Give me a reason. You think I need you to believe it?” she continued, voice low, shaking with something dangerous. “You think I don’t know?”

Her grip tightened and for a second, just a second, it looked like she might drag the blade across.

“Down Jimmy Ink.” Jimmy Crystal’s voice growled through the air causing all around to freeze.

He stepped forward, calm as ever, hands loosely clasped behind his back. There was no urgency in him. “Energy like that,” he continued, voice smooth, almost gentle, “should be reserved for something… worthy.” His gaze drifted briefly to Shite, then back to Ink. “Not him. This isn’t how you prove yourself, not against a fellow finger my darlin’, that’s not how it works.”

After a beat, she shoved Shite forward and released him.

“Cool off,” Crystal added lightly, already turning away, flicking his fingers in gesture with little effort. “Now.”

Ink didn’t respond verbally, instead she turned and stalked off into the trees, jaw tight, hands still shaking, grip still tight on the blade in her hand. It took a lot for her to keep walking and to not take her anger out on an innocent tree.

A soft but loud voice called out from the treeline, “Hey, Ink! Wait up.”

She didn’t stop at first, but the footsteps followed anyway, it was Jimmy Jones who soon fell into step beside Ink, hands tucked casually into their pockets. “You planning on sulking all night, or-”

“Piss off.” Ink threw out to the ‘friend’ at her side.

Jones snorted. “There she is. Look, you know Shite just runs his mouth because he’s bored,” they said easily. “He was tryin to get a rise outta ya, and you let him. It’s not like you, something up?” Ink shook her head sharply but Jones kept prying, “Come to think of it, you’ve been weird all week.”

Ink shook her head, pacing now, restless, she wasn’t going to talk about her doe, she exhaled, “…you ever think,” she started, not looking at Jones, “that he, that Old Nick, gives more than just signs?”

Jones glanced at her, curious. “What d’you mean?”

“I mean- Sir Lord talks about his favour like it’s in here.” She tapped her temple lightly. “Or here.” A quick, dismissive gesture to her chest. “Faith and feelings or what’ver. But what if it’s not?”

Jones’s brow lifted slightly.

Ink finally looked at them, something sharper in her eyes now, “What if he gives something real?” she said. “Something you can actually hold. Not just messages or instincts or whatever Sir Lord calls it. You think that’s possible?”

Jones didn’t answer straight away, hummed instead, rocking slightly on their heels, “You mean like Snake?”

Ink frowned. “What?”

Jones smiled faintly, eyes drifting back toward the camp, toward the firelight flickering through the trees. “Crystal told me something was coming,” they said. “Said we’d earned it. A reward. Then the next week… we found him.” There was something fond in their expression now. “Crystal said that was proof. Said Old Nick doesn’t just whisper but he provides. Puts things in your path when you’ve done enough to deserve it. Snake wasn’t just luck.” Jones continued, “What’s all this about then? Why are you bothered about what Shite has to say?”

Ink folded her arms, thinking carefully over Jones’ words of wisdom, “Just been wound up. I just-  Shite said it like he knew and like it was obvious. Like I’m just” She gestured vaguely, angry at the shape of the thought. “Just another one of Crystal’s pets.”

Jones’s expression didn’t change, but something in their posture shifted, “You are one of his,” they said, voice less playful now. Ink’s eyes snapped to them, and Jones continued.  “No?” Jones raised an eyebrow. “You follow him, and you listen, and you bleed when he tells you to bleed. Same as the rest of us, if not better. You follow our Lord Crystal” There was a strange level of admiration in their voice.

Ink stepped closer, something flaring again. “I follow Old Nick.”

“And who speaks for him? His favourite son of course, his only son” Jones shot back, just as quick.

Ink went still, Jones was right, Ink quickly squashed the thoughts for she had no right to question Crystal’s standing. Questioning Crystal meant questioning the voice of Old Nick himself. That that wasn’t just doubt, that was betrayal. And now, the doe, confirmation that he was watching meant that their work must continue. If he was watching, then everything they were doing mattered. Every cut, every offering, every death, they all mattered. 

“Look, if he, Old Nick, can put something in front of you,” they said, “that’s pretty fucking obvious to me. We’re all chosen.”

Ink’s fingers twitched at her sides. “…maybe. I never said we weren’t.” It was clear that whatever moment of Ink opening up was now gone in the way she shifted towards a tree, pulling a knife out to start carving.

Jones looked on confused, but now aching to get back to Snake. “Come back when you’re done brooding,” Jones said, turning.

Ink waved them off vaguely with a soft “Piss off”. The forest stretched quiet around her, shadows deepening as night settled in. She leaned against a tree, eyes scanning the darkness. She knew with this new understanding and confirmation that it was a gift, she waited and hoped for a flicker of movement, for a glimpse of a white dress, for those soft brown eyes.

Minutes passed, they turned into hours, and nothing came. The morning was the only thing that came, and Ink hadn’t got a wink of sleep.

The group were moving again, packs slung, boots crunching over dry ground as they cut through the forest. Each step reminding them of the desperation to be out of the heat. Their prayers were answered only a few kilometres into their journey. The trees thinned out, and then a gothic shape emerged slowly as it was discovered. An old church stood crooked and half-collapsed, the ceiling mostly devoured by time and neglect. It stayed standing only because of the hard stone walls, but they were stained dark with rot and creeping vines that clawed their way up the sides like they were trying to drag it into the ground.

They approached carefully, the group tightening into a formation out of instinct. Once the initial surroundings were clear, it was usual for Crystal and Ink to be the first to look inside. Crystal to assess the worthiness of the space, and Ink as his personal bodyguard of sorts. The large wooden doors opened with a loud creak, that would’ve been enough to signal their arrival to anyone or anything inside. Nothing came for them, so they took another few steps forward. It was the smell that hit them both, Jimmy Crystal gagging dramatically while Ink quickly covered her nose and mouth with her jacket.

It was just general decay, damp and dusty, but an extra layer of death and judging by the pile of bones sitting in front of the altar, the place was long abandoned. The pair continued to look around, Ink looking upwards to see a section of rafters and an attic that were slightly exposed by a hole in the ceiling. She mentally took note of it, she would claim it as her own once they were done with all the checks and Crystal finally declares that this place has been chosen for them.

“So, you wanna tell me why you and Shite were going at its last night?” Jimmy Crystal asked, not caring for the emotional reasons, but wanted in on the gossip per say.

Ink was still irritated, “It’s not important.” She bit back.

Crystal let out a judgement tsk, “It’s not important….”

“oh sorry, It’s not important Sir Lord”, Ink wanted to roll her eyes, but knew that attitude would result in more issues she didn’t have the capacity to deal with right now.

“Better. Your manners have been taking a real dip lately Jimmy Ink. I suggest you get on that, quick, otherwise-” Crystals incoming threat was interrupted, by Jimmima stumbling with force into the church’s door.

“INK!” The shout cut through the growing tension within the stillness.

Jimmy Crystal was gobsmacked by the rude interruption, perhaps he’d been too relaxed with his followers recently, they’re all getting too comfortable “Jimmima. Have you been invited in yet?” He said too kindly, still a stern look in his eyes.

It did make Jimmima shiver slightly, “Sorry, Sir Lord, it’s just – you need to see this.”

“See what?”

Jimmima looked at Jimmy Ink before she started giggling like a madman, turning out the church and running round to the back.

Ink and Crystal shared a confused look, before they headed back out to follow the strange girl. It was Jimmy Jones next that came tearing around the corner of the building, breath uneven, eyes wide in a way that immediately set something on edge. “You-” they started, bending slightly, hands on their knees as they tried to catch their breath. “You need to see this.”

They followed without further question, both drawn by something in Jones’ voice that cut through even Crystal’s quiet control. Rounding the side of the church, the air seemed to shift, thicker somehow, heavier, as though the space itself resisted being witnessed. The others had already gathered there, forming a loose, uncertain semicircle. No one spoke. Even their usual restless movement had stilled into something watchful, uneasy. Jimmima had climbed partway up a collapsed section of wall, one hand braced against the crumbling stone as she leaned forward, her posture tense, her gaze fixed downward, a crooked smile plasted on her face.

Ink stepped past them, brushing shoulders without noticing, her focus pulled forward by something she couldn’t yet name. And then she saw it.

The wall ahead was fractured and split with age, its surface uneven and scarred, but across it, stark and immediate, was something violently new. Written in thick, dragging strokes was her name followed by 1 delicate letter, Jimmy Ink, – H.

The red of it was unmistakable, though uneven in tone, darker where it had pooled, brighter where it had been smeared thin. It hadn’t fully dried and there was no mistaking what it was made from, nor the deliberate care in how it had been placed. It had been written with intention, each letter pressed into the stone as though carved there by force of will alone.

Right beneath the message, a rusted hook had been driven into the wall at an awkward angle, its metal eaten through with age. From it hung a gold chain, the small cross at its centre swaying faintly in the breeze. It looked almost absurd in its fragility against the ruin around it - fine, worn, and clearly once cherished. It caught the light in brief, fractured glints, each movement subtle but impossible to ignore. It did not belong to the church, nor to the decay that surrounded it. It had been placed there. Something coiled low in Inks chest and tightened with each passing second as she dragged her attention downward, and only then did the rest of the scene fully settle into place.

The bodies lay in the grass just below the wall. A man and a woman, though the distinction felt incidental now. Their throats had been opened with intensity, deep cuts that had bled them thoroughly, the surrounding grass darkened with a stain. The blood had soaked deep into the soil, spreading outward in uneven patterns, its metallic scent still thick in the air, it clung to the back of the throat, sharp and unmistakable.

The wounds were not clean, there was a jaggedness to them, as though the blade had been dragged, pressed, worked deeper than necessary. Whatever struggle had taken place here had been brief. There was no chaos in the aftermath, only the unmistakable imprint of intent. Their belongings lay scattered nearby, torn open with little regard for preservation. Bags had been split at the seams, contents dragged out and sifted through, anything of value stripped away.

And the necklace, Ink’s gaze lifted again, drawn back to it, had clearly come from the woman. The faint indentation and tan line at the base of her neck, the absence where something had once rested, made that much certain. It had been removed, separated from the body with purpose, and then lifted, and hung. Not discarded but given.

A murmur passed faintly through the group behind her, low and uncertain. The confusion was palpable. Ink, however, did not share their uncertainty. She moved forward slowly, her eyes remained fixed on the writing, on the final letter, on the simple, undeniable clarity of it.

H. The thought came as recognition. I love my love with an H.

A quiet sound escaped her, something between disbelief and something far more dangerous. The feeling in her chest was now unravelling; any sense of reality lost to the blooming within her. The air felt different, charged in a way that made her skin prickle. She stepped closer to the wall, close enough to see where the blood had gathered in the stone’s cracks, thickened into darker lines that mapped the uneven surface, she could now smell the iron tang. She reached forward and grabbed the golden cross, her fingers closing tightly around the chain that slipped free from the hook with a soft scrape. The world around her seemed to sharpen and blur all at once, the edges of everything pulling inward toward a single, undeniable point: Old Nick had chosen her, and he had sent the strange, beautiful, watching doe to deliver his recognition.

Slowly, her lips parted, her breath catching again, but this time it broke into something else entirely. The beginnings of a smile pulled at her mouth, tentative only for a moment before it spread, widening into something unrestrained, something that twisted beyond anything soft or human. It carved across her face, sharp and gleaming, an expression of pure, unfiltered elation that sat wrong in the context of death and ruin.

Behind her, the others watched in silence, their unease deepening into something closer to alarm. Because Ink was not reacting as she should have been, nor in a way they’d ever seen her act before.

Whatever doubts had existed before were gone and she would not question it again. Old Nick that is, there was still space to question everything else that came along with him.

Hidden above them, peaking out of the ripped open rafters and ceiling of the church, Juliet watched on. Juliet watched as Inks face shifted from the smallest hints of pleasure to a wide, all-consuming grin. Only someone who had learnt her every expression would notice the intensity of the change, so Juliet did. She didn’t know the heat in her own core, she’d never dealt with it before. But she watched, and felt nothing but awe at the sight.

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Please Let me know what you think! Ink x reader stories coming up in the next couple days x

[bigandlong]

If you see this on your dashboard, reblog this, NO MATTER WHAT and all your dreams and wishes will come true.

[jae-felidae]

Oh hey! Haven’t seen this in forever! Didn’t reblog it when it came across me before, not gonna skip it this time, I need some good vibes.