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#FROM THE MOMENT I SAW YOU TRYING TO GO OVER THAT WALL
stylesispunk · 3 days
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Silent Strain | Part iii
Outbreak! Joel Miller x f!reader
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chapter summary: Joel is afraid of letting you out of his sight and you were afraid of him slipping away.
w.c: 16k> (it was going to be 8k but this happened)
warnings: angst, mentions of panic attack, fluff. no proofreading. Probably some things won't make sense, but I felt pressured and I had to post this chapter.
a/n: hello! Last fic I posted didn't go how I expected but here's another chapter of this series. I hope you like this chapter and PLEASE share your thoughts with me. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
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As the first gloomy light of morning crept through the window, Joel felt like he could finally breathe again. The soft, grey dawn brought with it a sense of calm that the night had cruelly stolen away. He didn’t fear the darkness itself; he'd learned long ago to live within its shadows, but he feared the memories that the darkness brought to him. The loss, the crying, the desperation... and the blood.
The thought of losing another child, and losing you in the process, cracked the rough surface he had been hiding behind for so many years. It was too much; it was too familiar. As much as he tried to stay strong, the fear had gnawed at him, tearing at the fragile walls he had built around his heart.
Your breathing had steadied, though the pain had not fully subsided. He could feel your heartbeat against his chest, uneven but there, steadying his own frantic pulse. He had held you tighter, his own breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps, trying to stay calm for you, for the baby.
After the scare from last night, Joel had held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his face buried in your hair. He whispered softly; words meant to soothe you but also to keep his own panic at bay. "It's okay, darlin'. I'm here. Just breathe. Stay with me…"
The hours had dragged on, and every flicker of discomfort on your face sent a fresh wave of panic through him. He hadn't let himself sleep, afraid that if he closed his eyes, he might wake up to another nightmare.
Now, in the pale morning light, Joel watched you. Your eyes were closed, but your breathing was calm and even, a welcome change from the strained, pained gasps that had filled the room only hours before. He stroked a thumb gently along your arm, his touch feather-light, afraid of disturbing you but needing the contact to ground himself.
Ellie, who had kept a worried vigil nearby, finally stirred awake. She glanced over and saw Joel watching you, the lines of tension still etched into his face.
"Is… is she okay?" Ellie whispered, moving closer, her eyes wide with concern.
Joel nodded slowly, his voice barely a murmur. "Yeah, I think… I don’t know.”
Ellie let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "God, Joel, you looked so scared," she admitted, trying to lighten the mood, though her voice was shaky. "I’ve never seen you like that."
Joel’s lips twitched into a faint, weary smile. "Guess I'm getting soft, huh?"
Ellie leaned against the wall, watching him carefully. "That isn’t bad thing," she muttered, her eyes flicking over to you. “She needs you.”
Joel’s gaze softened, his eyes returning to you, still sleeping peacefully. Then, his gaze went to Ellie’s again.
“Ellie, can you take care of her for a moment?”
Ellie nodded, confused as Joel stood up, walking towards the door without saying a word to her.
Joel's steps were heavy, each one echoing softly in the quiet room. He reached the door and paused for a moment, his hand resting on the rough wood. His shoulders were tense, his head slightly bowed as if wrestling with some invisible weight.
Ellie watched him, frowning. "Joel?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Where are you going?"
He didn't turn around, didn't meet her gaze. "Just… need a minute," he replied, his tone low and strained. "I'll be back soon."
Ellie’s eyes flicked back to you, still resting, and then back to Joel. “She’s gonna wake up and ask for you,” she said, her voice gentle, but firm. "You sure you’re, okay?"
Joel nodded, though his movements were stiff, almost mechanical. "Yeah," he muttered, though he didn’t sound convinced. “I just need some air."
With that, he slipped out the door, the cold morning air rushing in as he opened it. He took a deep breath, feeling the sharp chill hit his lungs, grounding him momentarily. He stepped outside, letting the door close quietly behind him.
He stood there, just outside, his breath visible in the cold air, his mind racing. The panic from the night before still clung to him, like a dark shadow that refused to leave. His hands trembled slightly as he ran them through his hair, trying to calm himself down.
He couldn't shake the image of you in pain, the fear in your eyes, the blood on your hands. It felt like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from, a terrifying reminder of all the things he couldn't control, all the people he couldn't protect.
He closed his eyes, leaning against the wall of the house, his breathing coming in short, uneven bursts. He pressed his hands against his chest, trying to steady his heart, but the memories wouldn't let him rest. Memories of Sarah, of the pain of losing her, of the years spent hardening himself against that same pain.
And now, here he was again, facing the possibility of losing someone he cared about more than he wanted to admit.
"Come on, Joel," she muttered under her breath, killing the silence on Joel’s mind.
“Go back inside” he said.
Ellie jumped slightly at his words, her eyes darting to Joel. She could see the tightness in his shoulders, the tension in his jaw. For a moment, she considered arguing, but something in his voice stopped her. There was a rawness there, a plea she hadn’t heard before.
“Joel…” she started, her voice softer now, more careful.
His eyes flicked to hers, the pain clear, almost palpable. “Ellie, just… go back inside,” he repeated, his tone almost breaking. “Please.”
She hesitated, biting her lip, before nodding “You know it’s not your fault.”
Joel's face tightened at Ellie's words, his jaw clenching as if he was holding back a torrent of emotion. He shook his head, looking away for a moment, his gaze hard and distant, lost in anger and regret.
“I dragged her here,” he muttered, his voice rough and strained. “Knowing her state, knowing what could happen… I should’ve left her behind. Should’ve kept her safe.”
Ellie took a step closer, her own face a mix of frustration and empathy. “But you didn’t,” she argued softly. “Because you knew she’d never forgive you if you did. She wanted to be with you, Joel.”
He looked back at her, his eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing her words. “It doesn’t matter,” he replied, his voice a little louder now, a little more forceful. “I still made the call. I still put her in danger.”
Ellie shook her head. “You’re doing everything you can to protect her. You think she doesn’t know that?” She took another step closer, her tone firmer. “She trusts you, Joel. She believes in you. And… so do I.”
For a moment, Joel’s expression softened, the harsh lines of his face easing slightly. But then he closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath, as if trying to steady himself. “I don’t know if that’s enough, kid,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Ellie sighed, glancing back at the door. “It has to be,” she said. “Because she needs you now more than ever. And you’re the one who’s gonna keep her safe.”
Joel let out a long, shaky breath, his shoulders slumping as if a weight had settled on them. He looked at Ellie, his expression caught between determination and fear. "Yeah… I hope you're right," he murmured, almost to himself.
Ellie reached out, touching his arm gently, a rare moment of softness between them. “Just… don’t beat yourself up too much, alright?” she said, her voice low. “She’s gonna need you to be strong for her. And so am I.”
Joel and Ellie stepped quietly back inside the house, the dim light from the early morning casting long shadows across the walls. Joel's eyes immediately moved to you, lying on the couch, your face still and peaceful in sleep. For a brief moment, he felt a strange calm settle over him, just seeing you safe, resting.
But as if sensing their presence, you began to stir. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, adjusting to the dim light. The ache in your body was still there, a dull throb in your stomach, but the sharp pain had subsided, leaving only a sense of heaviness. You blinked a few times, your gaze settling on Joel and Ellie as they stood by the door, both looking back at you with relief.
“Hey…” you murmured; your voice raspy with sleep. You tried to push yourself up, but Joel was by your side in an instant, his hands gently helping you to sit up. His touch was careful, as if he was afraid you might break.
“Take it easy,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing.
You nodded, wincing slightly as you adjusted yourself. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… I just…” Your voice trailed off, and you swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “I’m okay, really.”
Ellie stepped closer, her eyes wide with concern, but there was a hint of a teasing smile on her lips. “You better be, ‘cause I don’t think I can handle Joel being that freaked out again,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.
You chuckled softly, a weak smile spreading across your face. “Guess I gave you both a bit of a scare, huh?”
Joel’s expression softened, his thumb gently brushing against the back of your hand. “Yeah, you could say that,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
He didn’t meet you gaze, and you know damn well what that meant. You noticed the way his eyes seemed to avoid yours, his gaze fixed on some invisible point in the room. His thumb kept moving over the back of your hand, but there was a tightness in his jaw, a hesitation in his posture that made your heart ache.
“Ellie,” you said softly, turning your head toward her. She paused, halfway through rummaging in the supply bag, her eyes darting between you and Joel. “Could you… give us a minute?”
Ellie hesitated, her gaze lingering on Joel for a moment, and then on you. She seemed to understand that something more needed to be said between the two of you. She nodded slowly, trying to mask her concern with a casual shrug. "Yeah, sure," she muttered, trying to play it cool, even as her curiosity buzzed beneath the surface. “I’ll, uh, go check on the weather or something.”
She grabbed her jacket, slinging it over her shoulders and headed toward the door. “But if I hear any yelling, I’m coming back in,” she added with a small grin, trying to lighten the mood before she slipped out the door, leaving the two of you alone.
The room was suddenly much quieter without Ellie’s presence. The only sounds were the crackling of the dying fire and the distant, muted wind outside. You turned back to Joel, your eyes searching his face. He still wasn’t looking at you, his thumb still moving in that steady rhythm against your hand.
“Joel,” you whispered, trying to draw his gaze back to yours. "Look at me."
He hesitated, his shoulders tense, but finally, he lifted his eyes to meet yours. You could see the conflict there, the worry, the guilt. “What is it?” you asked gently. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
He took a deep breath, his jaw clenching for a moment before he spoke. "I… I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “For all of it. For dragging you out here, for… putting you in danger."
You shook your head, squeezing his hand. “Joel, I made that choice. I knew what I was getting into.”
He shook his head, his eyes dropping again, filled with that familiar guilt. “No… you didn’t. Not really,” he muttered.
You reached up, cupping his cheek with your free hand, forcing him to look at you again. “Joel, stop,” you said firmly, your voice steady. “Nothing is going to happen to us. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”
He closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath. “I’m just… I’m so damn scared,” he confessed, his voice breaking slightly. "Of losing you. Of losing another…"
You felt a lump form in your throat, understanding the weight of his words, the depth of his fear. You leaned closer, pressing your forehead against his, your voice soft.
“Joel, the baby is okay,” you reassured him softly, hoping your words would ease some of the fear you saw in his eyes. "I can feel it."
He shook his head slightly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “How do you know?” he asked, his voice low and rough. There was a tremor in it, a crack that revealed the depth of his concern. “How do you know when we’re out here, and everything’s…” He trailed off, his breath hitching.
You swallowed, trying to find the right words, to offer him some kind of comfort. “I just do,” you whispered, moving closer to him. “I can feel it. Maybe it’s just… a mother’s instinct. But I believe it, Joel. I feel like… this baby is strong.”
Joel's eyes softened at your words, but the fear still lingered there, heavy and ever-present. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to steady himself. His hand moved to rest on your stomach, his palm pressing gently against the swell. He closed his eyes, as if trying to feel what you felt, to believe in what you were saying.
“Strong,” he repeated softly, almost like he was testing the word, trying it out to see if it fit. "I hope so… I really do."
You placed your hand over his, squeezing it lightly. “I know so,” you assured him, your voice unwavering. “I know it’s a little tiny thing but..I feel it.”
He exhaled slowly; his breath warm against your cheek. “I want to believe you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I do."
“Then believe me,” you urged, your thumb brushing against his cheek in a soothing motion. “We’ve made it this far, right? We’re almost there, Joel… we just need to hold on a little longer.”
He nodded, a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah,”
For a moment, the room was silent except for the crackling of the fire and the faint sound of the wind outside. Joel finally met your gaze again, a mix of hope and fear in his eyes. "I’ve lost so much,” he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t… I can’t lose you, too.”
Your heart ached at his words, understanding the depth of his pain. You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, trying to pour all the reassurance you could into that touch. "You won't," you whispered against his mouth. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."
He kissed your back, a little more desperately this time, as if he were afraid you might disappear. You held him close, feeling his body tremble slightly against yours, his breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts.
Ellie pushed the door open, her footsteps echoing in the quiet room. She froze mid-step, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of you and Joel, wrapped in each other's arms, lips just parting from the kiss. Her face scrunched up in mock disgust, and she rolled her eyes dramatically.
“Ugh, seriously?” she groaned, putting her hands on her hips. “If you two wanted to get all mushy, you could’ve at least sent me away or something. Or, I don’t know, given me a warning!”
Joel pulled back, a faint blush creeping up his neck. He coughed, trying to mask the embarrassment with a stern look. “Ellie,” he started, his voice gruff, but she just waved him off.
“No, no, it’s fine," she said with a playful grin, "I mean, I get it… the world’s falling apart, and you’re all about the dramatic declarations of love. But can you keep it PG for the kid in the room?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension of the moment breaking as you met Ellie’s teasing gaze. “Sorry, Ellie,” you chuckled.
She rolled her eyes again but smiled, moving to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. "Yeah, yeah. Just… don't make me an unwilling participant in your cheesy romance, okay?" She paused, glancing between the two of you, her expression softening just a bit. "But… I’m glad you’re both okay.”
Joel shook his head, a small, reluctant smile forming on his lips. "We’re okay, kiddo," he replied softly, his voice still carrying a hint of emotion. "We’re all okay."
Ellie grinned, nudging Joel lightly with her shoulder. “Good,” she muttered, “'Cause I need both of you.”
You and Joel exchanged amused glances, and for a moment, the heaviness in the room seemed to lift, replaced by a sense of warmth and comfort in knowing you were all still together, facing whatever came next.
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Four months had passed since that tense night, and winter had settled in with a cold grip. The once vibrant landscape had transformed into a stark, snowy expanse. You, now seven months pregnant, felt the weight of your journey more than ever, but the quiet strength of Joel and Ellie beside you made the harsh conditions more bearable.
Now seven months pregnant, you felt the weight of it all pressing down on you, not just the baby growing inside, but the miles you had trudged through the wilderness. Your feet ached, your back was sore, and your hands were red and raw from the cold. Yet, the quiet strength of Joel and Ellie beside you made the harsh conditions somehow more bearable. Joel, ever watchful, kept close, his eyes always scanning the horizon for any sign of danger, his presence a constant comfort. Ellie, with her relentless spirit, kept the mood light with her jokes and sarcastic comments, doing her best to distract you from the relentless chill.
The trio of you had walked through miles of frost-covered terrain, the snow crunching beneath your boots. Each step was a reminder of how far you had come and how much further you still had to go. Wyoming was just ahead, a small but significant milestone in your quest for safety and a future.
Joel trudged ahead, his face set in determined lines, but every now and then he would glance back at you, making sure you were okay. He had taken to carrying a small pack with supplies, his concern for you palpable. Ellie, now a bit more grown and experienced, walked close by, occasionally breaking the silence with a joke or a comment, trying to keep your spirits up.
You looked at Joel’s profile, his face partially hid the fear on his bones and despite his gruff exterior, he had become your rock through this tumultuous journey. You had come to rely on his strength and his soft, rare moments of tenderness.
December 1st
“Winter has arrived with a vengeance. The cold is biting, and our progress has slowed. We’re staying in an old barn for the night, huddled together to keep warm. Joel’s been making sure the fire stays lit, while Ellie tries to make the best of our situation.
I can feel the baby kicking more strongly now. It’s a constant reminder of why we’re enduring all of this. Joel’s been more attentive, though still guarded. He’s trying so hard to protect us, and I wish he could see that his presence alone is enough.
The snow makes everything look different. Almost beautiful, in a way that feels wrong given the world we’re living in. We made camp in a small cabin tonight. Joel found some firewood, and Ellie kept herself busy by trying to make soup out of what little we had. She’s worried about me, even though she pretends not to be. I can see it in the way she watches me, like she’s waiting for something to happen. Joel, too, keeps his eyes on me, never letting me stray too far. I think he’s afraid, maybe more than he’ll ever admit.
The baby’s been kicking more. It’s a strange feeling, like little taps from the inside, reminding me that there’s something good in this world. Something worth fighting for.”
The cold wind whipped around you, making it difficult to see very far ahead. Joel motioned for a short break, and you gratefully lowered yourself onto a nearby snow-covered log. Ellie quickly dug out some snacks and hot drinks from her pack, her hands red and numb from the cold.
“Here,” she said, handing you a steaming cup. “This should help warm you up.”
You took the cup gratefully, savoring the warmth as it seeped into your fingers and then your body. “Thanks, Ellie,” you said, smiling. “I don’t know how we’d have made it without you.”
Ellie shrugged; her cheeks flushed from the cold. “Just doing my part,” she said with a wink. “And keeping you guys from going completely crazy.”
Joel joined you, taking a seat beside you and offering you a small piece of dried fruit. “We’re almost there,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Just a bit further, and we’ll be in Wyoming.”
You nodded, taking comfort in his words. “I know,” you replied. “It’s just... sometimes it feels like it’s never going to end.”
Joel’s hand reached out, gently resting on your knee for a few minutes to provide the comfort he knew you needed.
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As you made your way through the snow-covered terrain, the excitement of nearing Wyoming provided a much-needed boost. Joel’s usual calm demeanor had been unwavering through most of the journey, but today, there was an underlying tension in his movements that you and Ellie didn’t immediately notice.
Joel’s breaths were more rapid and shallow, though he tried to mask it behind a determined facade. He kept a firm grip on his pack and occasionally glanced around with a slightly strained look. His face, though mostly hidden by his scarf, betrayed signs of an inner struggle that he wasn’t quite ready to share.
Ellie’s voice broke the silence, sharp and unfiltered as always.
"Are you dying?" she asked, half-joking but with an edge of genuine concern. She was walking beside you, her eyes narrowed at Joel, who hadn’t slowed his pace despite the obvious tension in his movements.
Joel grunted, his response delayed as he adjusted the pack on his shoulder. "No," he said curtly, his breath coming out in visible puffs in the cold air. "I’m fine."
"You don’t look fine," Ellie pressed, glancing at you as if seeking backup. "You’re all... sweaty and weird."
You frowned, watching Joel carefully now. Ellie wasn’t wrong—there was something off about him today. The way his shoulders hunched, his steps just a bit too heavy, like he was pushing through something. He had been quiet, more so than usual, and you could sense the strain behind his eyes whenever he glanced back at you.
"Joel?" you asked, your voice softer than Ellie’s but carrying the same concern. "What’s going on?"
He slowed his steps, finally stopping to catch his breath. His hand went to his side, rubbing it briefly before he straightened up, avoiding eye contact. "It’s nothin’," he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual strength. "Just... pushin' too hard today. We’re close, is all. No time to slow down."
Ellie crossed her arms, her eyes flicking between you and Joel with a skeptical look. "Right," she said, not convinced. "You’re not dying, but you’re also... not dying?"
Joel shot her a look that could’ve silenced most people, but not Ellie. "I said I’m fine."
You stepped closer to him, concern outweighing your hesitation. "Joel, you need to tell us if something’s wrong. You can’t carry this all by yourself."
He exhaled through his nose, the stubbornness etched in his expression softening for just a moment. "I’ll be alright," he said, though now his voice was quieter, less defensive. "Just... need a minute. We’ll keep movin’ after that."
Ellie threw her hands up. "Well, that’s reassuring," she muttered, but you could tell the worry hadn’t left her eyes.
You stayed close to Joel, watching him as he tried to steady his breathing, his hands resting on his knees for support. The tension that had been building inside you all day finally surfaced, the reality of how much you were relying on him pressing down on you. But even now, as he struggled, he was still trying to protect you both.
Joel glanced up at you, catching your gaze, and for a brief second, his walls dropped. There it was—the vulnerability he was so good at hiding, but not today. Not from you.
“I want to rest for a bit” you said, placing your hand over your swollen belly. You needed the rest, but you also wanted to force Joel to slow down a bit.
Joel’s eyes flicked down to your hand resting on your belly, then back up to meet your gaze. His expression softened, the usual stubborn resistance he wore melting away for a moment. He sighed, clearly torn between pushing forward and giving in to the obvious need for a break. You could see the struggle in him—the need to keep going, to get you all to safety—but he couldn’t deny the toll it was taking on both of you.
"Yeah, alright," he muttered, standing upright and scanning the area. "We’ll rest."
Ellie, who had been quietly watching the exchange, gave a slight huff of relief. "Finally," she said, throwing her pack down onto the snow and plopping down next to it. She stretched her legs out in front of her, rubbing her hands together for warmth. "You both needed this."
You nodded, grateful for the pause, though your focus remained on Joel. He had been pushing himself too hard, and the weight of that knowledge gnawed at you. It wasn’t just about the miles or the cold—it was the responsibility, the fear of what would happen if he couldn’t protect you both. You were carrying a life inside of you, and while you knew Joel would never admit it, that added an extra layer of pressure on him.
Joel knelt down beside you, his eyes still scanning the landscape as though danger could appear at any moment. "We won’t stay long," he said, his voice low. "Just enough time to catch our breath."
But it wasn’t true.
As night wore in, Joel had begun gathering wood for a fire, his movements stiff from the weight he carried, not just the physical strain but the burden of keeping you all safe. You watched him silently, your breath visible in the cold night air, as he crouched near a small clearing, arranging the branches and kindling with expert precision. The flicker of the firelight cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw.
Ellie sat nearby, uncharacteristically quiet, watching Joel with a mixture of curiosity and concern. She hugged her knees to her chest, her usual stream of sarcastic comments absent for now. The cold seemed to have silenced her usual banter, or maybe she was just tired, like the rest of you.
Joel caught your gaze from across the fire, his eyes locking onto yours for just a moment longer than usual. He was tired—so tired. But he wouldn’t say it. He wouldn’t admit that he needed to rest just as much as the rest of you, if not more. His protectiveness ran so deep, it was like a force of nature, driving him even when his body begged for relief.
"You should sleep," he muttered, breaking the silence, his voice rough but soft. "I’ll keep watch."
"You need to rest too, Joel," you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper over the crackling fire. "You can’t keep pushing yourself like this."
He didn’t respond right away, his eyes flickering to the flames as if avoiding the truth of what you were saying. Ellie, sensing the tension, chimed in from her spot by the fire.
"Yeah, seriously, man. You’ve been on ‘protector mode’ for hours now. You’re not a machine, you know."
Joel grunted, his usual response when he didn’t want to argue but also didn’t want to agree. He poked at the fire with a stick, the sparks floating up into the dark sky. "I’m fine," he said again, the same phrase he’d been using all day, but it sounded weaker now. Less convincing.
You leaned back against the cave wall, watching him through the flickering light. He was still trying to protect you, still carrying the weight of all your lives on his shoulders. But you could see it wearing on him, the exhaustion, the fear he wouldn’t admit to, the responsibility that felt crushing.
"Joel," you said quietly, "we’re not going to make it if you don’t take care of yourself too.
His eyes snapped to yours again, something unreadable passing through them. For a moment, you thought he might argue, might tell you once again that he was fine. But then he sighed, the sound heavy with everything he wasn’t saying.
"I’ll rest when you two are safe," he said, his voice rough and tired, like he was trying to hold back the weight of the world. "I promise."
Ellie threw a stick into the fire, watching it crackle with an unimpressed look. "Great. So, we’re just supposed to wait until you collapse?"
Joel shot her a look, but it lacked its usual sharpness. You could see that even he was starting to acknowledge the truth.
And just when he was about to say something, you moved uncomfortable. 
Before Joel could respond to Ellie’s sharp comment, you shifted in your spot, a small grimace passing over your face as the baby kicked again. This time, it was stronger, more insistent, and the discomfort rippled through you unexpectedly. You instinctively placed a hand over your belly, your breath catching as the sensation overwhelmed you.
Both Joel and Ellie immediately noticed the change in your posture. Joel's eyes widened, all traces of exhaustion vanishing in an instant as he leaned closer, his expression full of concern.
“What is it?” His voice was tight, his protective instincts kicking in instantly. “Are you alright?”
You nodded, though the tension in your face said otherwise. “I’m fine… it’s just… the baby’s kicking. It’s strong.”
Ellie scooted over, her eyes wide with curiosity and a mix of awe. “Whoa, really?” she asked, her usual snark replaced by genuine interest. “Can I feel?”
You smiled, despite the ache, and gestured for Ellie to come closer. She tentatively reached out, her small hand resting on your belly. A few moments passed, and then the baby kicked again, more pronounced this time. Ellie’s face lit up, her eyes going wide with amazement.
“That’s wild,” she breathed. “It’s like… a real person in there, huh?”
Joel remained still, his expression a mixture of hesitation and uncertainty. His eyes flickered from your face to your belly, where Ellie’s hand still rested, her excitement palpable. But Joel… his gaze was distant, conflicted, as though something heavy was weighing on his mind.
You watched him for a moment, noticing the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched like he was fighting something deep within. He had been so protective of you and the baby, yet now, there was this hesitation that hadn’t been there before. Like the reality of it all was finally sinking in, and it scared him in a way he hadn’t expected.
Your heart softened at the sight of him—this man who had carried so much weight on his shoulders, trying to keep all of you safe. And now, with the baby growing inside you, it seemed like the responsibility was becoming even more overwhelming for him.
Without saying a word, you reached for Joel’s hand, gently pulling it toward your belly. He resisted at first, his eyes meeting yours with an uncertain look. But you smiled, reassuring him, and after a beat, he let you guide his hand to rest over where the baby had just kicked.
For a moment, the world seemed to stop. His hand, warm and rough, pressed against your belly, and then the baby kicked again—strong and insistent, like it was reminding him of its presence. Joel’s breath hitched, and his eyes widened in surprise. You could see the emotions flashing across his face—fear, wonder, maybe even hope—but he didn’t pull away.
He swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. “That’s… that’s the baby,” he said, his tone filled with awe, like he couldn’t quite believe it was real.
You nodded, your hand still resting on top of his, offering comfort. “Yeah, Joel. That’s our baby.”
For a moment, Joel just stared at your belly, his hand still pressed against you. Then, slowly, his walls started to crumble. His shoulders slumped, and he let out a shaky breath, the tension that had been building inside him for days finally releasing.
As you watched Ellie marvel at the sensation of the baby kicking, you couldn’t help but notice Joel’s face. His eyes, though focused on your belly, were distant, clouded with thoughts you knew all too well. His silence spoke louder than any words could, and you could see the weight of it pressing down on him, the same doubts and fears he always tried to hide. But this time, there was no hiding.
Without thinking, you gently placed your hand over Ellie’s, signaling for her to stop. "Hey, El… let’s give the baby a little break," you said, your voice soft but firm.
Ellie looked up at you, confused for a second, before pulling her hand back and sitting up straight. She shrugged nonchalantly, though her eyes lingered on your belly, clearly still amazed. “Yeah, sure. That was pretty cool though,” she muttered, leaning back and poking the fire with another stick.
But your attention wasn’t on Ellie anymore. It was on Joel. His hand was still resting on your belly, and he hadn’t moved. You could see the tension in his face, the way he was trying to hold it together for both of you. He needed to rest, to let himself break for just a moment, but you knew how hard that was for him. How much he felt like everything was on his shoulders.
"Joel," you said quietly, almost more gently than you intended. His name felt different on your tongue, like it wasn’t really you speaking.
He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still locked on your belly. You took his hand and slowly lifted it away, placing it in his lap. He blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, and finally looked at you. The weariness in his face was undeniable now, and you could see the cracks in the facade he always tried so hard to keep in place.
“You need to rest,” you said, your voice soft but firm, with an edge that wasn’t quite your usual tone. It was more insistent, more like a command than a request. You weren’t just asking him to take a break—you were telling him.
Joel’s brows furrowed, his lips parting slightly as if to protest, but you cut him off before he could speak.
“I mean it,” you added, surprising even yourself with the intensity of your words. “You’re not going to help anyone if you collapse, Joel. We can’t keep going like this.”
His mouth closed, his eyes searching your face as if trying to figure out what to say, how to argue with you without pushing too hard. But he couldn’t. Not this time. Not with the way you were looking at him, with that mix of worry and determination that left no room for debate.
Ellie, sensing the shift in tone, stayed quiet, glancing between the two of you. For once, she didn’t throw in a sarcastic comment. She just waited, watching the fire crackle and listening to the tension settle around you.
Joel let out a long breath, his shoulders sagging as the fight drained out of him. He nodded, though it seemed reluctant, like he still couldn’t fully let go of the idea that he had to be the one holding it all together.
“Alright,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “Just for a bit.”
You exhaled, relieved, but you still held his gaze, making sure he understood. “It’s not just for us, Joel. It’s for you too. You need this.”
He nodded again, and this time, it seemed a little more genuine. “Yeah… I know,” he whispered, his voice raw with exhaustion.
Ellie glanced up, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Finally,” she muttered under her breath, though there was no bite in her words this time.
As Joel shifted to find a more comfortable position, he laid his head against your lap, his face pressing gently against your belly. The closeness of him, the warmth of his body leaning into yours, made something inside you tighten—an emotion you couldn’t quite name but one you understood all too well. His breaths slowed as the exhaustion finally caught up to him, his body surrendering to the rest he so desperately needed.
Your hand moved on its own, fingers threading through his hair, then brushing down to caress the rough stubble on his face. The small gesture felt both intimate and protective, like you were guarding him for once, in the only way you could. His face softened in his sleep, the tension that had etched itself into his features over the last few days easing away.
Ellie, watching the scene unfold, stifled a quiet chuckle. "Well, that’s a sight," she whispered, shaking her head with a faint smile. “Didn’t think I’d ever see Joel like this.”
You gave her a soft, knowing smile, your hand never leaving Joel’s face. “Yeah, me neither,” you whispered back. The fire crackled between you, casting soft shadows on the cave walls. For the first time in what felt like forever, it was you and Ellie staying awake, the weight of the night’s silence shared between the two of you instead of Joel.
Ellie stretched out her legs, staring into the flames. “So... how’s it feel?” she asked, her voice low as if she didn’t want to disturb Joel. “Y’know, the baby. It’s kinda crazy to think that in the middle of all this... you’re growing a person.”
You let out a quiet laugh, glancing down at Joel’s sleeping form, then at your belly. “Yeah... it’s crazy,” you admitted, your voice soft but filled with a quiet wonder. “But it feels... right, somehow. Like maybe this is the one good thing left in the world.”
Ellie nodded thoughtfully; her gaze still locked on the fire. “Guess we all need something good to fight for.”
Silence settled over you both, the crackling of the fire the only sound as the night stretched on. The cave was cold, but there was a warmth in this moment, a quiet bond growing between you and Ellie as Joel slept soundly against you.
For the first time in a long time, it felt like you had a moment to breathe and be still. And in that stillness, with Joel safe and Ellie by your side, you allowed yourself to hope, just for a little while, that maybe everything would be okay.
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December 10th
We made it to Jackson today. It’s hard to believe after everything, but we’re finally here. We’re safe… but something doesn’t feel right.
Tommy was so happy to see us. To see Joel. I saw it in his eyes, the relief of having his brother back. And when he looked at my belly, he was surprised, of course, but happy. Even Maria, his wife is pregnant too. She seemed genuinely excited for us, for what this means. But Joel... Joel didn’t react the way I thought he would.
I’ve seen him handle danger, grief, and loss; nothing seemed to break him. But today, when Tommy told the news when Maria shared her news, I could see something change in Joel. He didn’t smile, didn’t share in the moment like I hoped he would. Instead, he shut down. And it hurts. It hurts to think that maybe he’s not ready for this, for us. Maybe he’s scared, maybe it’s just too much. I don’t know, but it’s like I’m carrying this alone.
I’m scared too. But I want this baby. I want us to be a family. And I thought… I thought Joel did too.
He’s with Tommy now, catching up after a long time or at least pretending to. I can feel something shifted, the distance between us growing, even though we’re finally somewhere safe. What if Jackson doesn’t fix this? What if the problem isn’t out there, but here between us?
You set the pen down and closed the journal, feeling the weight of the words settling into your heart. You glanced over at the new clothes Maria had left for you in the bed.
As you dressed in the clean, comfortable clothes Maria had left, the familiar weight of worry crept back in. The thoughts of the QZ and everything you’d been through tugged at the edges of your mind, but you pushed them aside, determined to move forward and focus on this new chapter in Jackson. This was supposed to be a fresh start. You were determined to make it feel that way.
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The cold air outside hit you as you stepped out of the house, but it was fresh, invigorating. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself and began walking through the quiet streets of Jackson, hoping that a bit of solitude would clear your head. But as you passed by one of the larger buildings in the town, you heard voices, low but familiar.
Joel and Tommy were inside.
You hesitated by the window, not meaning to eavesdrop, but you couldn’t help yourself. The tension in Joel had been building all day, and Tommy’s words floated out into the cold air.
“I thought you’d be happy for me, Joel,” Tommy said, his voice carrying a mix of frustration and concern. “I’m going to be a father. Can you believe that? I thought—hell, I thought you’d understand more than anyone.”
There was a long pause before Joel responded, and you could practically feel the weight of what was about to come.
“I don’t know if I want to be a father again,” Joel said, his voice low, almost too quiet to hear. It wasn’t a confession so much as an admission, like it was something he hadn’t even allowed himself to think about until now. “Tommy… it’s different this time.”
“You’ve got someone, Joel. She’s—she’s carrying your kid. That’s not something you just walk away from,” Tommy replied, clearly trying to keep his patience. “You don’t get to be scared and check out now. That’s not you. At least, that’s not the brother I know.”
“I know that,” Joel said, but there was a tremor in his voice that betrayed him. “But I’ve been through this before. And it didn’t end well. What if I can’t do it again? What if I can’t protect them?”
Tommy’s voice softened. “You’re not the same man you were back then. And you’ve got people now. You’re not alone in this, Joel. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”
Another silence followed, and you found yourself holding your breath, waiting for Joel to say something—anything—that would give you an idea of what he was feeling. But when he spoke again, his voice was strained, full of conflict.
“I want to be there for them. I do. But I don’t know how to be a father anymore. After Sarah... it feels like too much.”
Hearing him say her name, his late daughter, hit you like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t heard Joel talk about Sarah much, but you knew how deeply her loss had affected him. The silence that followed was thick with emotion, as if Tommy was waiting for his brother to find the words he was searching for.
“Then learn, Joel,” Tommy finally said, his tone soft but firm. “You can still be a father. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be you trying.”
You could hear the clink of glasses as Tommy poured them both a drink. Joel didn’t respond right away, and you took that as your cue to move away from the window, giving them the space they needed.
As you walked away from the window, your thoughts swirling with everything you’d just overheard, you almost didn’t notice Maria approaching from down the street. Her footsteps were quiet on the dirt path, and by the time you spotted her, she was already close enough to call your name.
“Hey,” Maria greeted softly, her eyes warm but cautious. She seemed to sense the heaviness on your shoulders. “I was just coming by to check on you. How’re you settling in?”
You managed a small smile, though the weight of what you’d overheard lingered in your chest. “It’s... good. It’s a lot to take in, but it’s good here.”
Maria studied your face for a moment, as if she could see the mix of emotions brewing beneath the surface. She gave a small nod, choosing not to press. Instead, she shifted the conversation to something else. “I wanted to let you know, we’ve got an ultrasound machine here in town. It’s old, but it works. If you want, we could take a look at the baby, make sure everything’s okay.”
Her offer took you by surprise, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. The thought of seeing the baby—of actually hearing its heartbeat, seeing it move—was both exciting and terrifying. You hadn’t had the chance for anything like this since leaving the QZ, and the opportunity stirred a mixture of emotions you hadn’t quite prepared for.
“I… I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down at your belly.
Maria smiled gently, her understanding clear. “I get it. It can be overwhelming, especially with everything you’ve been through. But maybe it’ll help. You were out there for so long, it wouldn’t be bad give it a check.
You hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Yeah, maybe. I think I’d like that.”
“Good,” Maria said, her smile growing. “Okay, let’s go”
“What now?” you asked, surprised and afraid, there was a strange feeling on your heart at the thought of seeing your baby for the first time.
Maria chuckled softly, sensing your hesitation. “No time like the present,” she said, her voice calm and reassuring. “I know it’s a lot, but you’ve been through worse. This is something good, something for you. And for the baby.”
You felt a flutter of nerves as the reality of it hit you—the idea of seeing the baby, confirming its presence in a way that was more than just kicks and feelings. It was a lot to take in, and your heart raced at the thought.
“But... what if something’s wrong?” you blurted out, your voice quieter than you intended. It was a fear you hadn’t allowed yourself to voice until now, but it was there, gnawing at the back of your mind.
Maria’s expression softened even more. “That’s exactly why we check. If something’s wrong, we’ll know, and we’ll take care of it. But listen, you’ve come this far. You’re strong, and so is your baby.” She placed a gentle hand on your arm, grounding you. “You’re not alone anymore, okay?”
Her words gave you a sense of comfort you hadn’t realized you needed. You took a deep breath and nodded, more firmly this time. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
Maria smiled again, “Do you want to find Joel first?” she asked
But you thought about his words, and said no.
You shook your head, the memory of Joel's hesitant confession weighing on your mind. "No," you said quietly, but with conviction. "Not right now."
Maria studied your face for a moment, her expression thoughtful but understanding. She didn’t push, simply nodded. "Alright," she said gently. "This is your moment, then. Just you and the baby."
You appreciated her respect for your choice. As much as you wanted Joel to be there, to share this experience with you, part of you knew he wasn’t ready. He needed time to sort through his own fears, and you needed this moment to yourself, to connect with the life growing inside you without the burden of anyone else's emotions.
“Let’s go,” you said, your voice firmer now, a strange mix of nerves and excitement bubbling up inside you.
Maria led the way back toward the clinic, with Ellie joining you both, the air cool and crisp as you walked through the quiet streets of Jackson. Inside, the warmth of the room wrapped around you, soothing some of your tension. As you lay back on the table, ready to see your baby for the first time, you felt a flicker of hope, a hope that despite everything, you and this little life inside you could make it.
The door creaked open, and the doctor stepped in. He was tall, with tousled brown hair and kind eyes that immediately locked onto yours. There was a brief pause as he stood in the doorway, his expression shifting from professionalism to something softer, almost as if he were momentarily caught off guard.
"Hi, I’m Dr. Paul..." he trailed off, his gaze lingering on you just a second too long before he quickly composed himself, stepping further into the room. "Paul Mesner," he added, clearing his throat, his tone now more formal, though there was a warmth in it that you couldn’t quite place.
You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, unsure of the sudden tension that filled the small room. It wasn’t overwhelming, but you could feel something shift in the air, as though Paul had felt something the moment he laid eyes on you.
Maria, standing by your side, glanced between the two of you, raising an eyebrow but choosing not to comment.
As you lay back on the examination table, the soft hum of the ultrasound machine filled the room. Maria stood nearby, and Ellie sat on a chair in the corner, her legs bouncing restlessly. Paul prepared the equipment, his movements efficient but gentle.
Ellie glanced around nervously, trying to act cool, but you could see the curiosity and excitement in her eyes. “So… this is where we get to see the little peanut?” she asked, her voice trying to mask her eagerness.
You smiled at her, feeling a sense of comfort that she was here. “Yeah, Ellie. This is where we’ll see the baby.”
When Paul applied the gel to your belly, Ellie’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t say anything, her attention fully focused on the screen. As the image flickered to life, the small form of the baby appeared, its heartbeat strong and steady. The room seemed to hold its breath.
He guided you through the process, explaining each step, though his voice was gentle, almost reverent. As the cold gel touched your skin and the machine came to life, Paul’s eyes never strayed far from yours. When he finally looked at the screen, the image of your baby appeared, and so it’s heart beating that filled the silence of the room.
“There it is,” Paul said softly, the awe clear in his voice. He glanced at you with that same warmth, but your focus was entirely on the screen. But when he looked at you again, there was something undeniably personal in his eyes, like you were the only person in the room.
Ellie leaned forward; her face lit up with wonder. “Holy shit… that’s… that’s the baby?”
You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away from the tiny form. “Yeah, that’s the baby.”
Ellie’s gaze flickered from the screen to you, then back again. “That’s… insane. It’s real,” she whispered, her usual bravado melting away in the face of something she couldn’t joke about.
Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at the tiny image on the screen, tears welling in your eyes.
As you stared at the tiny, flickering heartbeat on the screen, a rush of emotions overwhelmed you. Tears blurred your vision, but you couldn’t look away from the image. It was real—your baby, alive and growing inside of you. The room was quiet, except for the steady thrum of the baby’s heartbeat echoing in the air, a soft, rhythmic reminder that you were carrying a new life.
“Ellie,” you whispered, looking at her, “you’re going to be part of this too. You’re family.”
Ellie blinked, clearly moved by your words, though she quickly masked it with a grin. “Thank you” she said, smiling down at you.
Paul’s gentle voice brought you back, and when you glanced up at him, he was still looking at you, his eyes filled with something more than just professional care. It was warmth, empathy... maybe something else.
"You’re doing really well," he said again, his voice barely above a whisper, as though he didn’t want to break the delicate atmosphere of the moment.
You smiled weakly, feeling the tears spill over, but you quickly wiped them away. "I wasn’t sure what to expect," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "But hearing the heartbeat... it’s incredible."
Paul nodded, his gaze still steady on you, his expression soft. "It’s a moment that changes everything," he said, his voice full of sincerity. "You’ll remember this for the rest of your life."
His words settled over you like a blanket of reassurance, and for the first time since you had arrived in Jackson, you felt a small sense of peace. There was still so much uncertainty ahead, but in this moment, everything felt possible.
Maria, who had been standing quietly off to the side, finally broke the silence. "It’s beautiful, isn’t it?" she said, her voice filled with genuine warmth. She walked over to you and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You’ve been through so much, but you’re going to be okay here."
You nodded, grateful for the support. But your thoughts drifted back to Joel, to the conversation you had overheard between him and Tommy. You couldn’t help but wonder how he would react when he saw this—when he heard the heartbeat and realized what was truly at stake.
But for now, you allowed yourself to just be in the moment, surrounded by the quiet reassurance of Maria’s words and Paul’s steady presence.
"Thank you," you whispered, meeting Paul’s eyes again.
He smiled, the corners of his mouth tugging upward just slightly. "Anytime," he said softly, and for a moment, it felt like he wasn’t just talking about the ultrasound.
As you, Ellie and Maria gathered your things and prepared to leave the small room, you felt Paul’s eyes lingering on you, even as you reached for the door. His gaze was soft, but intense, as if he couldn’t tear himself away. It left a strange flutter in your chest, a mix of emotions you weren’t ready to unpack.
“Thanks, Paul” you said, honestly, smiling at him.
Maria, standing by your side, must have noticed too. When you touched the door handle, ready to step out, she placed a gentle hand on your arm. “Wait for me outside,” she said, her voice calm but firm.
You hesitated, glancing between her and Paul, but then nodded, stepping out into the cool air of the hallway. As the door clicked shut behind you, a strange tension filled the room you had just left.
Inside, Maria turned to Paul, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. His gaze had been a little too fixated on you, and Maria’s protective instincts kicked in immediately.
"Paul," she began, her voice quiet but filled with a clear warning. "Don’t ever think about it."
Paul blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Maria took a step closer, her expression hardening. "I saw the way you were looking at her. But you need to understand something—she’s not here alone. The baby’s father is here in Jackson."
Paul’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, though he quickly tried to mask it. "I wasn’t—" he started, but Maria cut him off.
"Tommy’s brother," she said, her voice low and steady. "That’s the father. And trust me, you don’t want to get involved in that kind of situation."
Paul looked taken aback, the realization sinking in. He glanced down, his expression shifting as the weight of her words hit him. "I didn’t mean any disrespect, Maria," he said quietly, his tone more subdued now. "I just—"
"I know you didn’t," she replied, softening just a bit. "But I’m telling you now, for your own sake. Stay professional. Keep it that way."
Paul nodded, the intensity in his gaze dimming, replaced by something more resigned. "Understood," he muttered, his voice low.
Maria gave him a long, measured look before turning to leave. As she opened the door, she glanced back one last time, as if to reinforce her message. Then, without another word, she stepped outside to join you.
You and Ellie were waiting just outside, leaning against the wall, lost in thought. When Maria emerged, she gave you a small, reassuring smile.
"Ready to head back?" she asked, her tone light, as if the conversation inside had never happened.
You nodded, pushing yourself off the wall.
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The makeshift theater was packed with people from the community, the flickering light from the old projector casting shadows on the walls. It felt surreal, sitting there with everyone, watching a movie like things were normal. For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to sink into that illusion—into the laughter, the shared smiles, the warmth of the crowd around you.
But then you saw Joel, after missing him for the whole day.
He was sitting a few rows ahead, his posture tense, eyes focused on the screen but not really watching. You’d been keeping an eye on him ever since you got there, sensing the turmoil still brewing beneath the surface. As the movie played on, Joel stood quietly and slipped out of the room, unnoticed by most. Except for you.
Something stirred in your chest, a familiar pull that you couldn’t ignore. You glanced around, checking if anyone else noticed, but everyone was still absorbed in the film. Quietly, you stood and followed him out, slipping through the door into the cold night air.
The streets of Jackson were quiet, the sound of the movie muffled behind you as you walked. You could see Joel ahead, his figure silhouetted against the dim streetlights. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his steps slow, like he wasn’t sure where he was going, just that he needed to get away.
“Joel,” you called softly, your voice breaking the silence.
He stopped but didn’t turn around immediately. You quickened your pace, coming up beside him. When you reached him, he finally looked at you, his expression a mix of exhaustion and something deeper—something you couldn’t quite place.
"You okay?" you asked gently, though you already knew the answer.
Joel let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping as if the weight he’d been carrying all night had become too much. "Just needed some air," he muttered, his voice rough, but not unkind.
You fell into step beside him, walking in silence for a while, letting the quiet between you settle. You knew Joel wasn’t one to open up easily, and you didn’t want to push him. But you couldn’t just leave him to his thoughts, not when you knew he was struggling.
"Talk to me, Joel," you said softly. "What’s going on?"
He was silent for a moment, his jaw tightening as he tried to find the right words. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know if I can do this."
Your heart tightened at his words. "Do what?"
"All of it," he said, his voice strained. "Being here... with you, the baby. It feels like I’m tryin’ to fit into somethin’ I don’t deserve. I don’t know how to be this person anymore."
You stopped walking, turning to face him, the moonlight casting shadows across his face. "Joel, you don’t have to have it all figured out. None of us do."
He shook his head, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I want to be there for you, for the baby, but I don’t know if I can protect you. I’m scared I’ll fail again."
The mention of his past failures cut deep, and you could see the ghosts of his memories haunting him. Sarah. The QZ. Every person he couldn’t save.
"You won’t fail," you said firmly, stepping closer, placing a hand on his arm. “I saw the baby today” you said with a tiny smile appearing.
His eyes flickered up to meet yours, a hint of surprise breaking through the heaviness that surrounded him. "What do you mean, you saw the baby?" he asked, the tension in his voice softening just a fraction.
You took a breath, feeling warmth spread through you at the memory. "Maria took me for an ultrasound. It was… incredible. I felt the heartbeat, Joel. It’s real. There’s a little life in there."
A mixture of emotions crossed his face, curiosity, wonder, and a flicker of fear. "And? What was it like?"
You smiled wider now, unable to contain the joy bubbling within you. "It was amazing. The little form on the screen, just... there. It made everything feel more possible, like maybe we really could do this."
For a moment, Joel’s expression softened, and you could see the flicker of hope behind his eyes. "That’s… good," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, almost as if he was afraid to believe it.
"It is," you reassured him, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between you. "And you’re going to be a part of that, Joel. You’re not just the protector; you’ll be a father. And I know it’s scary, but it’s also something to live for."
He looked down, his brow furrowing as he processed your words. "You really think so?"
"I know so," you said, reaching up to cup his face again, letting your thumb brush gently across his cheek. "You’re already so protective of us, and that matters more than you realize. You’ll figure it out as we go along."
As you stood there, the world around you faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in that intimate moment. Something in Joel shifted, the walls he had built around his heart starting to crumble. You could see the conflict within him, fear battling against a yearning to embrace this new reality.
With a gentle tug on his shirt, you pulled him closer, your heart racing in anticipation. "Trust me," you whispered, your eyes locking onto his.
And then, without overthinking it, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his. The kiss was tentative at first, a mingling of uncertainty and hope. But as he responded, deepening the kiss, you felt a wave of warmth wash over you, as if the two of you were forging a new bond amidst the chaos.
His hands found your waist, holding you close, and for those brief moments, it felt like everything else faded away, your fears, the weight of the past, the uncertain future. It was just you and him, sharing something genuine and profound.
When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you breathing heavily, the world outside momentarily forgotten. The flicker of fear in his eyes had shifted to something softer, more determined.
"You really mean it," he said, his voice rough but filled with newfound conviction.
"I do," you replied, smiling up at him. "We’re in this together, Joel. No matter what."
He nodded, a faint smile breaking through the weight he had been carrying.
As the warmth of the moment lingered, Joel’s hands moved gently to your belly, resting there as if he were trying to connect with the little life growing inside you. His expression softened, and a protective instinct shone in his eyes.
“Get some rest,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “You’ve been through a lot today. We both have.”
You nodded, appreciating the concern in his tone. “I will. But I want you to come back soon, okay?”
A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I will. Just need a minute to clear my head.”
With a lingering touch, he pulled his hands away, and you felt a strange mix of warmth and longing as he stepped back. “I’ll see you in a bit,” he promised, his gaze still fixed on you, as if he were memorizing every detail.
You turned, feeling lighter, ready to head back inside and allow yourself the rest you needed. As you walked away, you glanced over your shoulder one last time, catching his eye. The connection between you remained palpable, and you knew that this was just the beginning of something profound.
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As you stepped back into the house, the warmth hit you immediately, chasing away the cool night air. Ellie was sprawled on the couch, flipping through a book she'd found earlier, her legs crossed as she absentmindedly skimmed the pages.
She looked up as you entered, her face softening into a lopsided grin. "You okay?" she asked, her tone casual, but you could hear the concern behind it.
You nodded, sitting down beside her. "Yeah. Just needed to talk with Joel for a bit."
Ellie studied your face, her eyes sharp. "And? Everything good?"
You smiled gently, trying to reassure her. "It will be. We’re figuring things out, one step at a time." You hesitated for a moment before continuing, "You know, we could be a family here. You, me, Joel… and the baby."
Ellie blinked, her usual tough exterior cracking just a bit. She let out a breath, leaning back against the couch. "A family, huh?" she muttered, her voice almost too soft for her usual snark. "Never really had one of those."
"You do now," you said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It’s not perfect. None of this is. But we’re all in this together."
Ellie let the words sink in, her eyes drifting toward the window as if trying to imagine what a life here could be. "Guess I could stick around," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Teach the kid how to shoot and stuff."
You chuckled softly.
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Meanwhile, on the other side of the community, Joel sat at the bar with Tommy, the weight of his emotions too much to bear any longer. He stared down at the whiskey in his hand, his knuckles white from gripping the glass too hard.
"Tommy…" Joel’s voice was low, broken, as if the words were being pulled from some deep, hidden place. "I need you to do something for me."
Tommy frowned, concern flickering across his face. "What is it?"
Joel swallowed hard; his throat tight. His eyes were red, the strain of the day finally catching up with him. "I need you to take Ellie to the Fireflies."
Tommy blinked; his confusion clear. "What? Joel, -“
"She’s immune” Joel cut him off, his voice cracking as tears welled up in his eyes. "But I can’t do it I can’t take her.  I don’t have the heart to leave my woman behind.”
Tommy’s gaze softened, understanding dawning on him. "You mean…"
"She’s pregnant, Tommy. I can’t take her with us. I can’t risk her life or the baby’s. And I can’t just leave them behind, not after everything." Joel’s voice wavered, his hands shaking as he finally let the tears fall, his tough exterior crumbling. "I thought I could do it… thought I could keep everyone safe, but I’m just not strong enough.”
Tommy leaned forward, his expression torn between concern and disbelief. "Joel, you don’t have to do this alone. You’ve got people here. You’ve got me."
Joel shook his head, wiping at his eyes. "Ellie needs to get to the Fireflies, for the cure. It’s what she’s meant for. But I can’t go, not with the baby coming. I need you to do this for me, Tommy. Please."
Tommy was silent for a long time, his heart breaking for his brother. "Joel… are you sure?"
Joel’s shoulders slumped as he nodded, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. "I don’t want to lose her, but I can’t lose them either. I can’t make this choice."
Tommy sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. "Alright," he finally said, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ll take Ellie. But, Joel...”
Joel took a shaky breath, his hands trembling as he gripped the edge of the bar. “It’s not just Ellie, Tommy. It’s me too.” His voice cracked, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself be vulnerable. “I’ve been having these panic attacks. Can’t breathe, can’t think straight. I… I haven’t felt this way since… since Sarah.”
Tommy's eyes widened, a mixture of shock and concern flooding his expression. "Joel…"
“I try to hold it together, but I’m falling apart, man. And I don’t know how to stop it,” Joel confessed, his voice breaking. “I’ll be out there, trying to protect her, trying to protect all of us, and suddenly it hits me — like a damn freight train. My chest tightens, my heart races, and I feel like… like I’m losing control.”
Tommy was silent for a moment, letting the weight of Joel’s words sink in. He'd seen his brother take on the world, survive impossible situations, but this was different. This was something Joel couldn’t fight with his fists or a gun.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Joel whispered, running a hand through his hair. "I'm scared all the time, Tommy. Scared that I’ll mess it up. That I’ll lose Ellie. That I’ll lose..." He faltered, swallowing hard. “That I’ll lose them both.”
Tommy stepped closer; his voice gentle but firm. “You don’t have to carry this alone, Joel. You never did. It’s okay to feel this way, man. No one expects you to be invincible.”
Joel let out a bitter laugh, though there was no humor in it. “But that’s what I’ve always had to be, ain’t it? The strong one. The protector. I don’t know how to be anything else.”
“You’ve been protecting people your whole damn life,” Tommy said, his tone filled with empathy. “But now… now it’s time to let people protect you too.”
Joel’s eyes were red, his jaw tight as he fought the urge to break down. “I don’t know if I can do this without her. Without them.”
“You don’t have to,” Tommy said quietly. “But I’ll take Ellie to the Fireflies. I promise I’ll keep her safe. You take care of yourself, Joel. Take care of the family you’re building here. You’ve earned that.”
Joel nodded; his heart heavy but grateful for Tommy’s understanding. He still felt the crushing weight of his fears, but for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel completely alone. Tommy was there. Ellie was there. You were there. And soon, there would be a baby who needed him too.
But still, his tears silently fell as he tried to hold himself together. This was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, and it tore him apart inside. But he knew it was the only way to protect the people he loved. Even if it meant letting go.
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You sat on the couch with Ellie, the warmth of the fire crackling in the fireplace nearby, casting a soft glow across the room. Ellie was watching the flames, her mind elsewhere, while you found yourself glancing down at your belly again, thinking about everything that was changing, everything that was coming.
“Ellie,” you began softly, breaking the comfortable silence between you. She turned her head slightly, her expression expectant. “I’ve been thinking… Would you wait until after the baby is born to go to the Fireflies? Just a little longer?”
Ellie’s brow furrowed slightly, as if the idea weighed heavily on her. She didn’t answer right away, and you could see the internal struggle flicker in her eyes.
“I know you want to help,” you continued, your voice gentle. “I know you want to be the cure, to make a difference. But… it’s dangerous out there. And I don’t want to lose you.”
Ellie shifted uncomfortably, pulling her knees up to her chest as she stared down at the floor. “It’s not about me, though,” she said, her voice low but steady. “I get it, you want me to stay, but the cure... it could give the baby a better future. It could give everyone a better future. And I can’t just sit here while I have the chance to do that.”
Her words struck you deep, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for wanting her to stay, to keep her close, to keep her safe. But Ellie had always been selfless, always thinking of others, always wanting to make things better.
You sighed, resting a hand on your belly as the weight of her words sank in. “I just want you to be safe, Ellie. You mean a lot to all of us. And I don’t want to see you hurt.”
Ellie smiled faintly, though her expression was filled with understanding. “I know. But… if I can do something to stop all of this, the infection, the danger, then the baby… they won’t have to grow up like this. They could have a real life, without the constant fear of what’s out there.”
The thought of that future, one where the baby didn’t have to face the same horrors that you and Ellie had, made your heart ache. She was right, and that was what made it so hard.
Ellie noticed the worry lines forming on your forehead and reached over, giving your arm a gentle nudge. “Hey,” she said, her voice softening, “don’t stress yourself out. You’ve got enough to think about. Go and rest. You need to take care of yourself, and the peanut.”
You offered her a tired smile, appreciating the concern in her tone. “You sound like Joel.”
Ellie smirked. “Guess he’s rubbing off on me.”
You laughed softly, but the weight of the conversation still hung in the air. “Just… promise me you’ll think about it, Ellie. Please.”
Ellie met your gaze, her eyes serious. “I’ll think about it,” she said, and though you knew her mind was made up, her words gave you a small sense of comfort.
With that, you slowly stood, feeling the fatigue settle into your bones. Ellie watched you with a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Go rest, Mom-to-be,” she teased. “I’ll be here.”
You chuckled softly, grateful for the lightness she brought to the moment. “Alright, alright. I’m going. Good night, Ellie.”
“Good night” she replied, smiling as you entered the bedroom.
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Joel stood outside for what felt like an eternity, staring into the darkness, weighed down by the decision he had made. He knew it was the right thing to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. The thought of sending Ellie away with Tommy gnawed at him, the fear of losing her or failing her again tightening around his chest like a vice.
Finally, with a heavy sigh, he walked back into the house, his footsteps slow and hesitant. The place was quiet, a stillness that only made the ache in his heart more pronounced. He stopped by the door to your bedroom, hearing the soft rhythm of your breathing. You were resting, just like you needed to be.
But there was another conversation he couldn’t avoid.
Joel walked down the hall to Ellie’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and he could see her sitting on the edge of her bed, lost in her own thoughts. She turned her head when she noticed him, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“What’s up?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual, but there was an edge to her voice that Joel couldn’t ignore.
Joel hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. He couldn’t meet her gaze right away. “Ellie, we need to talk,” he said, his voice low and thick with the weight of his words.
She sat up straighter, sensing that something was wrong. “What is it? What happened?”
Joel rubbed a hand over his face, trying to find the right words, but all that came out was, “Tommy’s taking you to the Fireflies.”
The room fell into a tense silence, Ellie’s eyes widening in shock before narrowing in anger. “What? No,” she said, her voice rising. “You’re supposed to take me. That was the plan!”
“I can’t,” Joel replied, his voice breaking just slightly as he tried to keep his composure. “I can’t leave them behind. Not with the baby coming.”
“Are you kidding me?” Ellie snapped, standing up now, her fists clenched at her sides. “You’re just gonna pass me off to Tommy like I’m some burden? What the hell, Joel?”
“It’s not like that,” Joel said, shaking his head, but the guilt was already eating at him. “I’m trying to protect you.”
Ellie scoffed, her frustration boiling over. “Protect me? you’re just okay with sending me away? Why can’t you take me?”
Joel took a deep breath, the panic rising inside him. “Ellie, I’ve been having these panic attacks,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “I can’t—I’m not strong enough anymore. I can’t do it. I can’t protect you the way I need to, not with all of this happening. I don’t want to fail you.”
Ellie’s anger wavered for a moment, her eyes searching his face. “Joel…,” she said, her voice softer now. “You’re not gonna fail me. You never have.”
“I already have,” Joel whispered, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Too many times. I couldn’t save Sarah. I couldn’t stop Tess from getting hurt. I won’t let you get hurt too, Ellie. And I can’t leave them—her, the baby—behind. I just can’t.”
Ellie’s face softened, but the frustration was still there. “Joel, I don’t want Tommy to take me. I want you. We’ve been through all of this together. It’s you and me. You don’t get to just hand me off when it gets hard.”
Joel’s eyes were wet now, the emotions too much to hold back. “I’m trying to keep you safe, Ellie. That’s all I want.”
Joel stood outside for what felt like an eternity, staring into the darkness, weighed down by the decision he had made. He knew it was the right thing to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. The thought of sending Ellie away with Tommy gnawed at him, the fear of losing her or failing her again tightening around his chest like a vice.
Finally, with a heavy sigh, he walked back into the house, his footsteps slow and hesitant. The place was quiet, a stillness that only made the ache in his heart more pronounced. He stopped by the door to your bedroom, hearing the soft rhythm of your breathing. You were resting, just like you needed to be.
But there was another conversation he couldn’t avoid.
Joel walked down the hall to Ellie’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and he could see her sitting on the edge of her bed, lost in her own thoughts. She turned her head when she noticed him, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“What’s up?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual, but there was an edge to her voice that Joel couldn’t ignore.
Joel hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. He couldn’t meet her gaze right away. “Ellie, we need to talk,” he said, his voice low and thick with the weight of his words.
She sat up straighter, sensing that something was wrong. “What is it? What happened?”
Joel rubbed a hand over his face, trying to find the right words, but all that came out was, “Tommy’s taking you to the Fireflies.”
The room fell into a tense silence, Ellie’s eyes widening in shock before narrowing in anger. “What? No,” she said, her voice rising. “You’re supposed to take me. That was the plan!”
“I can’t,” Joel replied, his voice breaking just slightly as he tried to keep his composure. “I can’t leave them behind. Not with the baby coming.”
“Are you kidding me?” Ellie snapped, standing up now, her fists clenched at her sides. “You’re just gonna pass me off to Tommy like I’m some burden? What the hell, Joel?”
“It’s not like that,” Joel said, shaking his head, but the guilt was already eating at him. “I’m trying to protect you.”
Ellie scoffed, her frustration boiling over. “Protect me? I thought you didn’t want me to go at all, and now you’re just okay with sending me away? Why can’t you take me?”
Joel took a deep breath, the panic rising inside him. “Ellie, I’ve been having these panic attacks,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “I can’t—I’m not strong enough anymore. I can’t do it. I can’t protect you the way I need to, not with all of this happening. I don’t want to fail you.”
Ellie’s anger wavered for a moment, her eyes searching his face. “Joel…,” she said, her voice softer now. “You’re not gonna fail me. You never have.”
“I already have,” Joel whispered, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Too many times. I couldn’t save Sarah. I couldn’t stop Tess from getting hurt. I won’t let you get hurt too, Ellie. And I can’t leave them—her, the baby—behind. I just can’t.”
Ellie’s face softened, but the frustration was still there. “Joel, I don’t want Tommy to take me. I want you. We’ve been through all of this together. It’s you and me. You don’t get to just hand me off when it gets hard.”
Joel’s eyes were wet now, the emotions too much to hold back. “I’m trying to keep you safe, Ellie. That’s all I want.”
“I know,” she said, her voice wavering. “But you’re all I’ve got. You can’t just let me go like that.”
They stood there in the quiet room, both of them battling their own fears and emotions. Joel wiped at his eyes, trying to collect himself.
“I’m not abandoning you,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t make this choice. I can’t risk losing all of you. Tommy… he’s strong. He’ll get you there.”
Ellie shook her head, frustration flashing across her face. “You’re not listening. I don’t want Tommy to take me—I want you.”
Joel looked at her, his heart twisting. He hated this, hated that he was letting her down. “Ellie... I’m not your father,” he said, his voice cracking with the weight of the admission. He had never said it out loud like this, and it hit him as hard as it hit her.
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Ellie looked like she’d been slapped. Her face hardened, jaw clenched. “Well,” she started, her voice sharp and bitter, “your girlfriend told me we could be a family.” She glared at him, daring him to contradict her.
Joel winced. The truth of it stung, the possibility of a family he didn’t feel worthy of. “I know,” he murmured, struggling to find the right thing to say. “But Ellie, that doesn’t mean I can risk everything—risk you—for a chance at something that might never come.”
Ellie shook her head, her eyes filling with tears she refused to let fall. “You don’t get it, do you?” she whispered. “I don’t want a family that leaves me behind when things get tough. I don’t want Tommy, or anyone else. I just want you.”
Joel’s heart shattered at her words. He saw the hurt, the fear of abandonment in her eyes, and it crushed him. He stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off.
“Ellie, please...” Joel started, but she cut him off, her voice trembling with emotion.
“No, Joel. You don’t get to decide what’s best for me without even asking me what I want. We’ve been through too much for that. And now, just when we could finally be something—be a family—you’re pushing me away.”
“I’m trying to keep you safe,” Joel repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“And what if I don’t want safe?” Ellie shot back, her voice shaking with frustration. “What if I want you?”
Joel swallowed hard, unable to find the words to answer her. He had spent so long keeping her at arm’s length, convincing himself that it was for her own good. But now, standing here, watching her fight to stay close to him, he realized how much he needed her too. How much she had become a part of his life, of him.
Joel’s jaw clenched, the weight of everything pressing down on him. He didn’t want to hurt Ellie, didn’t want to push her away, but he felt trapped. Torn between protecting her and staying with the new life that was growing inside you. He took a deep breath, his voice low and firm, but his heart breaking as he spoke.
“That’s final, Ellie,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’ll go with Tommy.”
The words seemed to echo in the room, heavy and irreversible. Ellie’s face crumpled in disbelief, anger flashing through her eyes, but before she could respond, Joel turned and walked out, the ache in his chest almost unbearable.
He moved through the quiet house, his footsteps heavy, his heart even heavier. His mind raced with guilt, fear, and uncertainty. He didn’t want to lose Ellie, but he also couldn’t leave you behind, not with the baby on the way. He just couldn’t.
As he reached the bedroom where you were sleeping, he paused in the doorway. The soft sound of your steady breathing filled the room, offering a strange kind of peace amidst the chaos swirling inside him. Joel leaned against the doorframe, his eyes fixed on your sleeping form, wondering how everything had become so complicated.
He stepped inside, moving quietly so as not to wake you. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he ran a hand through his hair, staring down at his hands as if the answers to his problems might appear there. The weight of his decision pressed down on him, and for the first time in a long while, Joel felt truly lost.
You stirred in your sleep, sensing his presence. Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light in the room. Seeing Joel sitting there, shoulders slumped, staring down at his hands, you felt a surge of concern wash over you.
“What’s wrong?” you asked softly, your voice groggy from sleep but laced with worry.
Joel flinched slightly, as if he hadn’t expected you to wake up. He shook his head, his eyes not meeting yours. “Nothin’,” he muttered, his voice quiet and strained. “Go back to sleep.”
But you knew better. You could see the tension in his body, the heaviness in his expression. You reached out, gently touching his arm, urging him to lie down beside you. “Joel… talk to me.”
He hesitated for a moment, the weight of the world still pressing down on him. But instead of saying anything, he let out a long breath and slid under the covers next to you. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if every action carried the burden he was trying to hide.
You shifted closer to him, resting your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, steady but faster than usual. His arm wrapped around you almost instinctively, holding you close, but you could feel the tension in his muscles, the internal battle he was fighting.
“You don’t have to carry it all on your own,” you whispered, your hand gently tracing patterns on his chest.
Joel’s arm tightened around you, but he didn’t respond right away. After a long silence, he finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “I’m tryin’ to keep everything together… for you, for the baby… for Ellie.”
You looked up at him, your heart aching at the sight of the pain etched into his face. “And who’s keeping you together, Joel?”
He didn’t answer. He just held you tighter, as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded in that moment. The silence stretched between you, heavy but comforting in its own way.
Joel exhaled slowly, the tension in his body softening just a little as he held you close. He could feel your warmth against him, the steady rhythm of your breath, and it made something inside him loosen—a little piece of that ever-present weight.
He ran a hand through your hair, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know,” he started, his rough tone softening, “I used to think I was too broken for this… for love, for family, for you.”
You lifted your head slightly, looking at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Joel…”
But he continued, his words flowing quietly into the night. “But you—you’ve been so good to me. You, with your stubbornness and your heart… you gave me somethin’ I thought I’d never have again. You make me want to be better. For you, for the baby.”
His hand traced slow, gentle circles on your back, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly, the heaviness in the air easing just a little. “You’re a sap, Joel,” you teased, though your heart was fluttering at his words.
Joel chuckled, the sound low and raspy, but it carried a warmth you hadn’t heard from him in a while. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” he said with a small smirk, his eyes softening as he looked at you.
You settled back against his chest, your cheek pressed to the steady rise and fall of his breath. His hand continued to stroke your back, grounding both of you in that moment. But even as the quiet warmth between you spread, you could feel there was something deeper weighing on him still.
After a few moments, Joel spoke again, this time more serious. “There’s somethin’ I gotta do. And you’re not gonna like it.”
You shifted slightly, lifting your head to look at him again, your brows furrowing with concern. “Joel, what do you mean?”
His eyes flickered with something—guilt, regret—but he swallowed it down, forcing a gentle smile for you. “You’re gonna hate me for a little while, darlin’. But I need to do what’s right. For you. For Ellie. For this family.”
You opened your mouth to protest, worry creeping into your chest, but Joel stopped you with a soft kiss on your forehead. “Just trust me,” he whispered. “I’ll make it right.”
You searched his eyes, seeing the weight of the decision he had made. Part of you wanted to push, to ask him what he meant, but the other part knew better. Joel had always carried the burden of protecting those he loved, even when it hurt him.
Eventually, the quiet comfort of his presence and the exhaustion of the day began to take over. You rested your head back on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath you.
“I trust you, Joel,” you whispered, though your mind still whirled with questions.
He held you close, his arm tightening around you, and for a moment, he felt like he could breathe again. But he knew, deep down, that the decision he had made would change things. For better or worse, he would protect the people he loved, even if it meant you’d be angry with him for a time.
As your breathing began to slow, sleep tugging at you, Joel leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I love you,” he whispered into the quiet, his voice raw with emotion. “No matter what happens. I love you.”
You didn’t respond, already drifting off to sleep on his chest, but the warmth of his words followed you into your dreams.
Joel he couldn’t stop feeling his heart breaking at the sight of you sleeping on his chest right now. He had made you believe that safety was a place wherever he was, he made you believe that you were going to have a place to sleep next to him to keep the demons away.
Joel, still wide awake, stared at the ceiling, the weight of his decision settling heavily over him. But for now, with you sleeping peacefully beside him, he could pretend that everything would be okay, just for a little while longer.
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You slowly woke to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, stretching and blinking against the brightness. As your mind cleared, you reached for Joel, but the spot next to you was empty. A sense of unease settled in your stomach.
Sitting up, you glanced around the room, noticing the stillness. That’s when your eyes caught sight of a folded piece of paper on the nightstand, the sight of it sending a rush of anxiety through you. You could see your name written in Joel's familiar handwriting, and your heart sank.
You reached for the letter, your fingers trembling slightly as you unfolded it. The words blurred for a moment, but you forced yourself to focus, the reality of the situation washing over you as you read:
Darlin’,
I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I have to do this. I’m leaving you here while I take Ellie to the Fireflies. I thought long and hard about it, and I believe it’s what’s best for all of us.
I can’t risk losing you or the baby. I don’t want to drag you into danger. This is something Ellie needs to do, and I can’t leave her behind. I hope you can understand.
You’re stronger than you know, and I trust you to take care of yourself. I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise. Just… please take care of yourself and the baby.
I love you.
—Joel
Your heart raced as you reread the letter, each line cutting deeper than the last. Confusion, anger, and heartbreak swirled within you, each emotion colliding as you tried to process his decision. He was leaving. Leaving you behind to take Ellie away, and you had no way to stop him.
You stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor as you rushed to the door, but there was only silence on the other side. You felt a surge of frustration and fear; how could he think this was for the best?
After a moment, you took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself. You could be angry later, but right now, you needed to find him. You grabbed your jacket and hurried out of the bedroom, determination pushing you forward.
“Joel!” you called out, your voice echoing through the empty house. There was no response, only the quiet that surrounded you. You raced down the hall, hoping to find him somewhere inside, but he was nowhere to be found.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you stepped outside, the cool air hitting your skin. You squinted against the light, scanning the area for any sign of him.
The sight of him made your heart drop. Tommy’s face said everything. He looked worn, the weight of the situation clear in his eyes, and that only fueled your rising panic. You rushed toward him, emotions spilling over as tears began to blur your vision.
“Tommy!” you cried, your voice breaking. “Have you seen Joel? He… he’s leaving me here!”
Tommy stepped forward, his arms opening instinctively as you reached him. You collapsed into his embrace, the warmth of his support contrasting sharply with the cold fear wrapping around you. As he held you close, your tears flowed freely, each sob echoing the pain and confusion swirling inside.
“It’s okay,” Tommy murmured, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “I’m here. You’re not alone.”
You buried your face in his shoulder, the reality of the situation crashing over you like a tidal wave. “He thinks he’s doing what’s best, but he’s not! I can’t believe he would leave me.”
Tommy held you tighter, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I know. I know it hurts. But Joel cares about you—about both of you—more than anything. He’s just scared.”
“But I need him here!” you exclaimed, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes, the pain reflected back at you. “I don’t want to be left behind. We’re supposed to be a family!”
“I’m your family,” Tommy whispered, his voice steady and sincere.
You felt a flicker of comfort in his words, but it didn’t erase the emptiness Joel’s absence left behind.
………
“Tommy,” Joel had said, his voice low and urgent as he leaned closer, eyes dark with concern. “I need you to promise me something.”
“Anything,” Tommy replied, sensing the gravity of the moment.
“Take care of my baby,” Joel had insisted, his expression fierce. “Promise me they’ll be okay.”
Tommy had nodded, ready to reassure him. “Of course, Joel. I’ll do everything I can to keep the baby safe.”
But then Joel’s gaze sharpened, a hint of desperation in his voice. “No, I mean my baby,” he clarified, referring not just to the life growing inside you but to you as well. “Promise me both will be okay.”
Tommy had felt the weight of that request, the unspoken fears underlying Joel’s words. “You have my word, brother. I’ll protect them both.”
……
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Blood and Affection ~ LMH
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☪WORD COUNT: 1.6K
☪GENRE: established relationships, minho worried about his girlfriend, cute, fluffy, worried minho, mafia au,
☪PAIRING: Mafia!Minhox Fem!Reader
☪Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - September 2024
☪MASTERLIST
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You are in a relationship with Minho, one of the most powerful and feared mafia leaders in Seoul, someone everyone knew never to mess with or lie to which was why you hadn't been surprised when your nurse who was treated you told him where you were.
"Traitor." You whispered to her as you saw his car pulling up in the parking lot. She smirked over at you and shook her head. She, along with everyone else who worked for Minho, had known you a long time.
Your history with Minho ran deep—you were once his top operative, known for your flawless execution of missions and unmatched skill in the field. You'd trained every single day alongside some of the best of the best in the business and you were incredible. Not to toot your own horn anything but you were.
There wasn’t a single task you couldn’t handle, earning you a reputation that made even the most hardened criminals wary of crossing paths with you.
"You knew he was going to find out anyway. I did you a favour." The nurse teased as you rolled your eyes at her playfully. It wasn't anything major. In fact, you felt stupid for it to have even happened in the first place.
You'd been caught completely off guard and left exposed to something that shouldn't have even happened. 
"It's stupid, I wasn't even paying attention." You grumbled more at yourself than the nurse who was with you. But you hated it. How could you have missed something like this? Minho trusted you to be alone without a guard and now you knew that was never going to happen again.
You'd been out in town all morning, taking a rare moment to unwind in town, deciding to treat yourself at the spa and then at the local stores to some new clothes or some books if you'd seen any. But you'd only just left the spar when out of nowhere, you were ambushed by an assailant with a clear intent to kill. 
Though you fought - and incredibly might you add - and managed to eliminate your attacker, you weren’t unscathed. A deep stab wound in your side left you bleeding profusely. The pain had been nearly overwhelming as you'd struggled to stay conscious on the way to the hospital, it was wishful thinking that you could hide it from Minho. The man saw you naked every single night, if you'd somehow managed to hide it from him while your scar healed you'd have a hell of a lot of explaining to do for the new scar when you eventually got naked in front of him again. 
"Everyone has an off day," The nurse reminded you as she applied some cream to your stitches, eventually covering it with a bandage as you sighed a little. All you wanted was to go home and pretend the day hadn't even happened.
"But not everyone's off day is going to lead to them needing an armed guard at all times," You smiled at her and she bit her lip softly and nodded in understanding. As you lay back on the bed, trying to process everything that happened, the door burst open with a loud bang and you watched it vibrate off the wall. Minho, your stoic and usually composed former boss and now current boyfriend, storms in with a frantic look on his face. His eyes, usually so cold and calculating, are now wide with panic.
“Are you okay?! I heard what happened...” His voice cracks slightly as he hurries to your bedside, his usual air of control slipping away. Normally he was well put together and didn't show any kind of emotion since they were usually held against him but with you, he always let them out. 
"Minho, don't make this a big thing." You laugh weakly but he shakes his head at you. You knew asking him not to make a big deal with a lost cause but you'd figured you'd try anyway. Within a second he was on his knees next to you, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for yours, his gaze scanning your bandaged wound with a mixture of fear and fury. The thought of losing you had him on edge, his usual cold demeanour shattered by the raw emotion he feels for you.
Minho glances up at the nurse, his voice laced with tension. The whole way over he'd been panicking about what he was supposed to do now, he'd already called his guys to arrange protection for you.
“What’s her condition? How long until she’s fully recovered? Are you sure she’s getting the best care?” He peppers the nurse with questions, his usual calm replaced with a sense of urgency. Your nurse opened her mouth to speak but was quickly cut off as he pointed to the IV that was inserted into your arm,
“And those painkillers—are they strong enough? I don’t want her in any more pain. Is she going to need to stay overnight?” You stroked his hand gently, the small act calming him down within seconds but you could still see just how on edge he was with this whole thing and you nodded at your nurse.
“She’s stable now, sir. The wound was deep, but she was strong. With rest and proper care, she’ll be okay, she should be able to go home as soon as this round of painkillers is done with.” Minho’s gaze flickers back to you, his expression softening as he takes your hand and squeezes it softly. 
“You hear that? You’re going to be okay,” he says, more to himself than to you, as if he needs the reassurance just as much. He placed his lips on top of your hand and kissed softly before shaking his head at you,
"Minho-" You tried to warn but you were quickly cut off,
“But this… this can’t happen again.” He pointed at your wound before leaning in closer, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand and smiling weakly. There was no way he was going to ever let anything happen to you for as long as he lived. 
“From now on, you’re getting extra protection every time you step out. I don’t care if it’s just for a walk or to grab a coffee—you’ll have backup, no exceptions.” His tone leaves no room for argument, the fear of losing you still evident in his eyes. It was going to be pointless arguing with a man who was set in his ways as much as Minho was when it came to your safety,
“I can’t risk anything happening to you again. Not when you mean this much to me.” He whispered, the nurse excused herself once his men began to gather in the room. All of them watched Minho with a smile on their faces. You were the only one that had ever been able to pull any kind of emotions out of their scary boss,
"Is the hospital floor secure?"
"You did not kick anyone out, right?!" You screech at your boyfriend who looks at you with a nervous smile tugging on the corners of his lips.
"If I say no, it won't be a lie...technically
"Minho-" You hiss at him but he shakes his head at you, it wasn't as if he'd thrown them out of the hospital. He'd merely paid everyone to be moved quickly.
"I moved them to different floors," he shrugged at you before you scoffed and nudged his shoulder. You'd have been perfectly fine without him moving anybody.
"I don't need protection from a bunch of old people."
"I don't care," He mumbles, looking at you and then kissing your cheek softly as you playfully scolded him for being so damn overprotective.
"I can't lose you, Yn...I just can't." He finally whispered as you pulled him to sit on the bed with you, your head resting on his shoulder. His men quickly filtered out of the room leaving you alone again.
He’s quiet for a moment, just resting his chin on top of your head, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your arm as he tries to think of something to say to you. 
Finally, he breaks the silence, his voice low and heavy with emotion. It had been hard for him when he'd heard the news of the attack, he'd gone into overprotective mode within seconds,
“I can’t lose you. I just… I can’t,” he whispers, the words almost a confession. 
“When I heard what happened, it felt like the ground was ripped out from under me. I’ve always been in control, always knew how to handle things… but when it comes to you…” He trails off, his grip on you tightening slightly as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away from him. You can feel the tremor in his voice, the raw vulnerability he rarely shows. 
“I’ve lost people before, but you… losing you would destroy me. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.” You lift your head slightly, your eyes meeting his. The depth of his fear is written all over his face, the tough exterior he usually wears stripped away in this moment. You reach up, cupping his cheek in your hand, your thumb brushing away a tear he didn’t even realize had fallen.
“You won’t lose me, Minho,” you say softly, your voice filled with sincerity. 
“I’m not going anywhere. I promise you, you’ll never lose me.”
His eyes search yours as if he’s trying to believe it, trying to let your words sink in. Finally, he exhales a shaky breath and presses his forehead against yours. 
“I’m holding you to that,” he murmurs, his voice a little steadier now, but still tinged with the lingering fear of what could have been. 
“Because I can’t… I won’t let you go.” He promised you as you nodded at him, cuddling into him softly.
"I'm not going anywhere," You whispered to him, closing your eyes as you laid your head on his chest.
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2tarbell · 16 hours
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hiii starrr happy (belated) birthday🥳!!! may i please req a raspberry sorbet for premature ejac with bsf rafe? tysmm<333
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BSF!RAFE + PREMATURE EJAC ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚
participate in my bday celebration!!!
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the moment felt perfect: high as fuck at a party and finally getting your hands on your best friend in somebody’s bathroom.
‘don’t let the high go to waste’ he whispered against your mouth — that was how he got you into the bathroom.
his skin was warm and smooth under your palms, firm ridges of his muscles leaving your stomach tingling in anticipation. dumbass backwards hat on and his shirt abandoned on the floor. wet patch on your panties only growing.
rafe was just as bad. all half lidded eyes and breathless grumbles of how pretty you were, how much he liked you. groping hands unforgiving. his bulge was demanding attention from where it was pressing into your stomach.
you both were desperate.
“y’so big. fuck..”
the whispered compliment fell from your mouth involuntarily, simply a reaction to the roll of his hips into yours. the tension was building as he chuckled against your swollen lips, thumbing at the underside of your bra.
“y’think so, sweetheart?” he mumbled, nudging his nose down your jaw.
your neck craned to the side to give him more room to litter open mouthed kisses to the skin. the sensation of his teeth dragging across your pulse point made your body arch forward, further into him.
you could hardly recognize your voice, so breathy and wanton, accompanied by an eager nod, “need it…”
those words made rafe smirk. you felt the pull of his lips against your neck, just imagining that shit-eating look on his handsome face made your knees feel weak. if he wasn’t holding you up before, he was now.
“yeah? you need daddy’s cock?”
the shiver you let out at the title wasn’t unnoticed by him. never has he seen you so needy. so desperate for his attention… and also apparently his dick.
this wasn’t how he saw his night going — after imagining this scenario so many times with his fist wrapped around himself, rafe definitely wasn’t complaining. not with the way you were looking at him and grinding against his thigh.
your shaky hands yank at his belt, frantically pushing and pulling the buckle until it gives. in seconds your fingers are wrapping around him and his pants are halfway pushed down his thighs. rafe chokes out a moan when your thumb brushes over the sensitive, leaking tip.
the sound of his pre cum squelching around his length fills the silence, punctuated by heavy breaths and groans of your name.
you think he looked beautiful like this — eyes squeezed shut and mouth agape. his hips start meeting your strokes until he abruptly stops. his eyes are shooting open and he’s shuddering against you. large muscles almost molding you into the wall. his voice is frantic as he begs but still thrusts forward—
“wait, wait— no, baby, i’m— shiiiit—“
pearly white ropes shoot out and land on your hand, rafe gasping and his eyes rolling back. his face surges into your neck, riding out his orgasm with a heavy moan.
the silence is back, but this time you can hear the bumping bass of the party. it pulls you out of the high slightly — your nose burning a bit. rafe presses closer and sighs softly. almost like he was… embarrassed?
“that— that wasn’t s’posed to happen. doesn’t happen. i jus’… jus’ the coke and— and i wanted that for a while so it jus’—“
oh!
suddenly you’re giggling and you feel higher than ever. he pulls his head back and lifts an eyebrow at you quizzically.
you bite your lip to try and stifle the joyous little sounds escaping your throat. rafe narrows his eyes and fixes his jaw, but you see a hint of a smile on the side of his mouth. just itching to break through.
“don’t be a brat, kid. c’mon…” he chides.
once the fit of laughter subsides, you’re lifting your cum covered hand to your mouth. tongue darting out to clean up the evidence of the last ten minutes. he watches you with a heaving chest — hanging on the way you lap up his cum like it was a delicacy.
“s’okay, daddy… we’ll just do it again, hm?”
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catyo90 · 1 day
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I already lost you once...
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Warning: Logan x F!Reader (Smut) Minors DNI)
In your universe, your Logan was taken from you, not his life, but his memories. He was made to forget who you were by Stryker, one bullet was all it look for him to forget everything about you. And you were tortured every night and day by it. The moment you tried to fix it, to get the life you had with him back for good. The TVA erased you. Took your home, friends, family and lover away with no way of getting out.
That was years ago. You wondered through the void all alone, sometimes running into variants. In that time you never stopped trying to get back to him, that was until you found out your Logan was long since dead, when you met Laura, she was from the same universe as you. She told you everything and offered you to join her and a small band of others to survive in this cruel world.
What choice did you have, little did you know that one day. You would get your chance to see him again.
-
You woke up grabbing your long black cloak with a matched pair of dark green tube top and army pants, you looked at yourself in the broken mirror, the cold dogs tags you held onto for a moment before leaving. You walked out over hearing Gambit speaking to someone about drinking his whiskey. You sighed as you stood in the doorway, you froze in place as you saw a Deadpool variant looking over to you with curiosity.
"Whoa, and who is this fem fetal who looks like a early 2000s spice girl, which one are you? Oh oh let me guess, Foxy Spice, no wait that doesn't work, oh.." His voice faded as you looked past him, after so long you almost couldn't believe it.
"Logan...?"
His eyes widened a bit as he turned around, and he looked like he had seen a ghost, hell in his world you were, along with everyone else. Everyone was silent, even Deadpool was for once was quiet as he had both hands on his face realizing the look you both shared as you walked up to Logan.
"Y/n..."
You looked into his eyes and saw in them nothing but pain and anguish. The sight of you being alive and well was almost too much for him. And the sound of your name coming off his lips made you shiver. it had been so long since you heard your name said like that.
'I'm a little surprised you know me..." He stepped a little closer as you spoke seeing the same dog tags he wore in his early years. He never would give those away lightly. He knew what you meant to him in your universe. You looked over your shoulder at the others and whispered to Logan.
"We will speak later..." you looked up at him as he nodded in agreement. But before you stepped away you felt him grab your wrist for a moment, you saw his fingers wrap around to touch your pulse. He just needed to know you were actually here and alive and not a damn illusion or hallucination. He let your wrist go as you walked over to Gambit and spoke with him for a moment. Wade snuck in and whispered to Logan.
"If you were waiting for the opportune time to finally get some action in the last 200 years of your life...that was it."
"Will you shut the hell up?!"
"Never. For I am Marvel Jesus and my words are holy."
Logan rolled his eyes as he took another bottle of whiskey as he listened to the made up plan Wade made half assed. As he leaned against the wall chugging down the bottle his eyes couldn't help but wonder to you, and neither could you. Both your glances would met causing you to blush and him to smirk to himself knowing all too well the effect he was having on you.
-
After the plan was formed and the sun was beginning to set, Blade and gambit decided to have a few drinks together as Elektra was sharpening her twin blades as she watched Laura practicing on the dummies with her own blades. You on the other hand were looking around for Logan, you closed your eyes using your seismic sense, you could see the vibrations in everyone movements and could differ who was who from the the difference is each one, not even Wade was able to surprise you as he popped out form behind leaning a arm against the doorway.
"You looking for a certain beast."
"More like I already found him. Wade. Can I ask you a question about him?"
"Yes, he likes the rough play."
"How do you...never mind..."
'Oh come now child, all confessions to the Marvel Jesus shall be heard."
"Why is he with you?"
Wade was silent as he looked around like he could get stabbed any moment. He moved you into the hall and spoke carefully.
"In his world he's the fucking worst, like everyone died, but now he's here trying to fix it with me cause I made an educated wish. He knows how to save people. And we need him."
"An educated wish?"
"yeah yeah I know. but listen... he spoke of you, and how the last thing he saw that made him loss all hope was seeing you dead in his arms. In my world he was the definition of a hero, and now...we are gonna fucking fix everything."
You sighed. You sensed this Logan was different, but to know you had died in his world. You looked up at Wade and smiled.
"In my world, he died long ago, but Laura told me everything that happened, how he lost so much, the pain of losing all those he loved. Rose, Kayla, Jean, Atsuko, But no matter what, he kept fighting. Every time he uses those claws he feels physical pain, but every night he is haunted by nightmares. I'm sure this Logan faced many pains like mine. But his eyes were the same. The same eyes I fell in love with."
"Jeez, you sound like a poet now, well why don't you go find him and give him a ballad he will never forget."
"I think he got enough fun time with you in that car, from what Laura says, there was clearly some fun times going on there."
"I never kiss and tell honey." Wade said as heard a whistle seeing Gambit motioning him over for a drink. You smirked as Blade groaned as Wade walked up to them saying how he was gonna show them a good time. Whatever inuendo he meant by that.
You looked outside and saw at the campfire near the car, both Logan and Laura were speaking to each other, you smiled at the sight as you walked over and saw Laura look at you and smiled as she placed a hand on Logan's shoulder. He looked at her and nodded to her as he looked back at the fire in front of him. You flipped your cloak over the log and sat beside him as he offered you the bottle of whiskey for a sip but you declined.
"Not a hard liquor kind of girl."
He smirked as he remembered, it had been so long since he had spoken to you, to see you again after so long. It was almost unnerving for him, but he still was for once is his miserable long life, glad to see you again.
"You wanted to talk earlier. I'm gonna assume you have questions?" He said as he threw the empty bottle toward the fire.
"I only wanted to ask how you knew me in your world, but Wade seems to have painted a uneasy but clear picture for me."
Logan gave a sharp eyed glance at Wade as he groaned in annoyance. He looked at you and glanced down at the dog tags you wore around your neck.
"I gave those to you, I mean I personally didn't but your version...fuck you know what I talking about right?"
"it's alright Logan, from what I can tell you and me were both together in both universes, but fate decided, we didn't belong."
"Fate has nothing to do with it."
"You don't believe in it?"
"No I don't, my version of you died and your version of me died. We got the short end of the stick but look at both of us now. No one gets the chance to see their loved ones again...this is all because of that asshole." He smirked pointing over his shoulder to Wade.
"Better not let him hear you, he'll never stop talking about it then."
You both chuckled at the horrifying thought, it had been a long time since you laughed, hell since you felt any joy at all. After all this time you were finally given the chance to see him again, to hear his voice. You looked at him and brought a hand up to his.
"Can I hold your hand?"
He said nothing as he held out his hand as you took off the gloves he was wearing and held your hand in his. The everlasting scars on his hands from his claws slightly showed, even with a healing factor as great as his you come see them. His hand warm to the touch and slightly rough, no doubt from all the fighting and hard labor he did in the past. You closed your eyes as your seismic sense could feel the metal underneath, it was there you could see all the wounds he took, his adamantium skeleton though healed to others, you saw micro fractures everywhere. Every break and every cut he suffered. Clear as day.
You had your hand roam up his muscular arm causing you to blush a little as you saw a familiar break in his bone. It matched exactly to how your Logan got it.
"This was from Sabertooth. Your brother. He came after you one night and had me by the throat trying to hold leverage over you. You fought him and in-between all the cuts and gashes, he managed to break your arm....and that when I used my powers on him. And in so doing...I hurt you as well.
You remembered how your seismic sense caused the metal bones in his body to vibrate and caused pain for him as each bone hit the other. You were still trying to control your powers at this point, but you remembered feeling awful after Sabertooth fled.
Logan looked at you and saw the matching scar along your neck. The same one his version had.
"I remember that night...but if I recall, or at least with my version of you. The night had a lot of exercise and no sleep."
You looked at him and laughed to yourself. He wasn't wrong
"Yeah it was...sorry this is just so...surreal." you said letting go of his hand but he still left the gloves off. You smirked at him as you took off your cloak, the heat from the fire was making you warm. Or at least you thought in that moment. You looked over at the others and saw they were retiring for the night. Wade of course gave you a wink as he blew a kiss to Logan as he helped a very drunk Gambit into the base. Both sights causing you to laugh to yourself. Logan looked at you with small smile.
You smirked as you looked at him once more this time give him a curious look.
"So...I have to ask. Am I...anything like your version. I'm sure we had some differences but I am curious."
He said nothing as he looked at you bring a hand to move a loose stand away from your face as he spoke.
"No matter what universe...your perfect."
You blushed hard as watched him move his hand away for a moment. He fingers flexed with want, he knew it had been...well forever since he felt any affection. But this ...this was different.
"I suppose we should get some rest, after all, it will be a long fight." You said standing up for a moment before looking at him.
But Logan didn't move, something you sensed in him was causing him to stay put as he looked at the fire and then turned to you. You saw him look away from you for a moment, you sat back down and leaned your head closer to him.
"Are you alri-" your words were cut off when you felt his hand grab a hold of your chin and his lips met yours. A thousand sparks seem to go on at once, your eyes closed as you wrapped your arms around his neck instinctively. It had been so long...so long since you had been kissed by him. You felt his other hand grip the back of your head becoming lost in your hair. You felt a small twinge of pain on yours lips as you knew they would be sore if it continued. He stopped himself catching his breath as he opened his eyes to look at you with a small bit of regret in his eyes.
"Logan..."
"I can't. It feels wrong. Like we are cheating...on each other."
You looked away for a moment. He wasn't entirely wrong. But you when you looked up at him you knew that what you were feeling was only for him. You sighed as you brought both hands to either side of his face making his breathing heighten as well as his want that you could in-between both of you.
"Logan, I love you. No matter what universe, no matter what version of us. I know across the entire multiverse. I only love you. No other." You gave a kind smile as you kissed his cheeks and then brought the kids to his lips as you brought your arms around his neck.
The defense in his body shattered in that instance. His arms wrapped around you tightly as he kissed you back harder and rougher. Even a small growl escaped his throat. Every kiss he gave felt divine as he paused for a moment looking around. You were about to inquire but before you could he grabbed you hand and led you away from fire, leading you into the woods. He stopped when he couldn't hear or smell the others and turned to look at you.
"Did we have to go so far?"
"I'm not letting that walking pain in the ass interrupt us." He said as he pulled you against his body. But still giving you a chance to turn him down.
You smirked as you grabbed a hold of his x men uniform with both hands, pulling him in close to you and kissed him. For a few moments, Logan didn't react. He felt himself quickly start to feel faint. This wasn't what he had expected you to do, but it certainly wasn't unwelcome.
His thoughts wondered to how long he had wanted this. It felt like eons since he felt this way for anyone. After everything that happened to him, he barely dared to hope. But now, with the feeling of your soft lips on his... they were so soft. His mind couldn't help too imagine how that luscious mouth of yours would feel elsewhere. He would give anything to know. Every moment your lips met his, you sensed his whole body tensing up. You expected him to quickly push you away and perhaps admonish the both of you for going too far. You then felt him move. You broke the kiss and started to let go of his suit, when to your surprise, you felt him wrap his arms around you and pull you in tightly, bringing your mouth back up to his for more.
He kissed you deeply, his lips quickly parted yours, giving you one passionate kiss after another. Despite the roughness of his skin, the ever so slight growth of facial hair brushing against your own, his lips were surprisingly soft even given his outer appearance and gruff personality.
Though the two of you should have been quiet, you soon found yourselves moaning softly into each other's mouths. Feeling a bit faint, you wrapped your arms around his neck for support as you felt you were starting to lose strength in your legs. He in turn held you closer to him, though it wasn't enough for him. The woods started to become filled with the sounds of deep breaths and lips parting and meeting again.
Before you knew it, you felt a nearby tree hit your back. With his mouth still on yours, he pushed himself up against you. He reached down, took your left leg and placed it around his waist. Causing you to moan in loud volume but you couldn't care.
With your arms still around his neck, he soon had you pinned to the tree looking down at you with lust filled eyes. The both of you should have been listening for any rogue variants or maybe any other unknown dangers but the only sounds that filled your ears were the erotic sounds that the two of you were making together
With you hanging onto him for dear life, his hands were free to do as he saw fit. One was busy holding your leg up, the other was braced against the tree.. His thoughts wandered to the string cords on your clothes. They wandered further, imagining what garments might be underneath.
He brought his hand down against your back kissing you even harder and rougher
You wouldn't have noticed if you had not suddenly felt the sweet sensation of his leather gloved hand starting to caress your tender neck.
"Fuck..." He said. You whimpered lightly as you felt him glide his fingers along your skin. All the times you had imagined him caressing you came to the forefront, making you forget everything else.
While keeping one arm around his neck, you took his hand in yours. He started to wonderif it was too much. That concern soon vanished the moment he felt you place his hand on your breast.
“Keep going.”
Logan let his hand wander up and down. Your own free hand wandered over his chest, over the hero suit and even the thin clothes that he wore underneath. Reaching further down to his waist, your fingers found his belt, which you attempted to do with one hand, but no luck.
Still your want to please him grew as you brought your hand back down to his waist. You couldn't get the belt loose, but you definitely could manage to get your hand inside his trousers. He moaned louder than ever before as he felt your hand venture down his navel and towards his very hard cock. The closer you got, the more his breath shortened. He was beyond eager to feel you take him in your hand.
The moment he felt you grasp him, he broke the kiss, gasping deeply as he felt your soft hand move up and down the length of him. It had been so long since someone had pleasured him like this, he almost came undone right there and then.
He buried his face in your neck, kissing you up, down and across, becoming more and more aroused hearing you moan just for him. His breathed deepened as he felt you continue to work his length in such a pleasurable way.
Logan was doing his best to center his thoughts, but with you pinned between him and the tree, it was all but impossible. He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer. As you looked up at him you realized how his gaze was focused on your face. He eyes filled with what looked to be lust and sorrow. He kissed you deeply, slipping his tongue into your mouth as his thumb stroked your cheek. He pulled away after a moment and looked at you with eyes full of adoration. “I missed you, Y/N.” he whispered before pulling you into another kiss.
You knew what he meant, you both had missed this feeling after so long. It was the one good thing you both felt in many years. In this moment being different versions didn't matter.
You reached your hands to his belt and undid it quickly looking him deep in the eyes. as you wrapped your palm around his now hard member. You squeezed and jerked on him while kissing him with tongue.
Logan growled into the kiss as you started to jerk him off. Every few seconds he would purr before returning to kiss your lips. He missed you so much that just a bit of your touch made him rock hard.
You gently pushed him down onto the ground, trying to be careful to not hurt him. The soft grass giving you both some comfort and the cool air making both of you feel a rush of excitement. You tugged his pants down and pumped his shaft few times before taking him in your mouth.
Logan gasped and looked down on you. “Fuck, Y/N.” He moaned quietly before moving his hand into your hair to gain some of the control over your movement. He bucked his hips to push himself deeper into your throat, he was desperate for any feeling.
You pulled him out of your mouth to lick the vein along the side. You sucked the tip before sucking it back into you mouth and bobbing head quickly back and forth making a popping noise as you catch your breath. Your free hand gripped at his other hand causing you to intertwine each other hands as you deep-throated him.
“Fuck.” He gasped and rolled his head back into the lush grass. You felt him grab your hair and your head down closer, pushing his cock as deep as possible. He emptied himself into your throat and sighed loudly. “I forgot how much I missed the feel of your mouth around me.” He teased you.
“Logan” you said as you slipped out of your pants and panties and straddled his bearded face. “If you’ll be a good boy, you’ll get the grand prize,” you informed.
Logan growled lowly as he removed the rest of his suit. You smiled as he wrapped his arms around your hips, pulling you down to place gently kisses on your clit and lips. First, he played with you by sucking your lips gently before pushing just the tip of his tongue past your lips. Soon he started to eat you at like a hungry beast.
“Oh...fuck. Logan ahhhh.,” your head rolled back as the pleasure was already unbearable. You'd wanted this after so long. You craved him and his touch, he was spinning your head round. You bucked your hips quickly trying to get more friction while you reached your hand back to jerk over his yet hard again member.
Just when you thought the pleasure was at its peak you suddenly felt him pressing his face to your heat, pushing his tongue deeper into you. One of his hand moved from your hip to your entrance. You saw as he looked up at you before he started pushing two fingers into you. Now he was eating you out while fingering you.
“Fuck oh my god,” you grunted feeling your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you continued to try your best jerking harder at his cock. Soon, you got felt a wave of euphoria as you came on his face. He adjusted so he could lean upward as he brought you down to kiss his lips, you tasted your wetness on them. He wrapped his arms around you causing you to straddle his lap as he guided his cock right to your entrance, he looked at you once more before the pleasurable pain you felt causing you both to moan as his cock entered, he growled.
"Fucking hell, you pussy is sucking me in so hard."
He smiled and gladly kissed you as he started to buck his hips into you while gripping hard onto one of your breasts. You knew in the morning there would be marks, he started kissing and biting your neck as his fingers played with your hardened nipple as he slammed into even harder.
Your entrance convulsed when his cock twitched against it. It was needy for anything, gaping and closing on repeat. He chuckled as he felt it.
“Just like that Logan...fuck...ah...make me cum...around your sweet cock,” you moaned into his ear as your nails dug into his shoulders causing red marks to appear making him growl in both pain and pleasure as he moved his lips away before biting at your lips and kissing you even harder than before. You bucked your hips for him as well, his cock was spreading your inner walls more and more with every thrust.
Logan purred as his hand traveled to your clit to rub gently circles there. His thrusts became deeper and faster. You cried out when you engulfed all of him and his face snuggled into the crook of your neck to bring you comfort. An embarrassing, dragged out whine slipped past your lips as you took more of his thick girth.
"God, yes, yes, yes!,” You suddenly felt your back hit the ground as his well toned muscled body towered over you as you threw your head back in an outburst of pleasure that overwhelmed your body. Cold shivers ran down your spine. He took both your leg and placed them above his hips, his hand traveled to your clit to continue his fun while he fucked into you even harder and rougher than before.
You watched the way your hole eagerly swallowed his cock from below. It was fast and passionate as he finally fucked you onto his cock, groaning lowly into your ear.
It was easy for him to lift you due to his strength, he would undeniably be able to snap you in half if he really wanted to. A few more pumps, then he muttered.
"Sorry if you wanted to keep it this way." He followed you as he pulled you up onto all fours, his muscled arm wrapped tightly around your waist. Using his forearm for support, a tortuous pull out occurred once again before he snapped your hips together.
You choked out a moan as you pulled your hips back in response. He inhaled sharply and continued rocking his hips with yours. His girth blissfully stretched you out, his cock rubbing against that one spot. His torso emitted heat and as much as it left you in a blissful daze, his reckless hips provided a merciless pounding, the studs gliding against your walls only added more pressure and need to arch your back.
"Y/n...fuck your so tight."
Despite the heat, the overwhelming pleasure, the man behind you, it all just wasn't enough. You wanted to rake your fingers through his thick hair and tug, watch his beautifully flushed face and blazed eyes, run your hands all over his chiseled body.
So, you whimpered and grabbed the arm securing you. "I wanna see you—" A harsh thrust had you biting back a moan and interrupting a thought-out yet simple phrase, that took so much time to piece together when all you had was Logan's name and dick carved into your mind.
A grunt was let out into your ear, a moment later, his hips melded with yours and his thrusting halted. He loosened his grip on you and you rolled over to face him, your hands latching onto his hair in an instant as you brought him closer. A humiliating cry fucked out of your throat. You threw your hands to his back as a reflex.
The veins along his chest and neck stand out, head lifting slightly off the ground as his fingers grip tighter at your chest, his cheeks flush red and his lips part again as he growls deep, guttural sounds. Then, you feel his dick inside you pulse, his strong hips lock into yours as he spasms and spills, his cum hot and thick as you continue to move. He throws his head back again then, jaw dropped as he moans, his eyes squeezed shut and body trembling in time with the spurts of his seed within you. 
Oh, my sweet—" You almost purr, trailing your hands along his forearms, still rocking your hips slightly as you come into his space, lips trailing along the curve of his jaw. He leaned his head down to you placing his forehead against yours taking deep breathes
"You're gorgeous." 
You blush profusely as he chuckles, his hands sliding down to your ass, you press kisses against the underside of his chin until he finally tilts his head down and allows your mouth to cover his. You kiss him languidly, dipping your tongue between his lips, breathing each other's air, feeling his fingers squeeze at your pillowy flesh as he eventually lifts his legs and uses the bit of leverage to thrust his still hard cock slowly in and out. Your whole body shutters beneath him, feeling his cum begin to overflow, sliding wet down the backs of your thighs, and you shiver. 
"You haven't come." He mumbles against your lips.
You smooth your hands up over his cheeks, forehead and all the way up to his hair, lifting from your lover's lips to smile slyly up at him.
"Would you hate me if I asked you to keep going?" 
Logan groans, his hands shifting down to your hips. his length shifting inside you and you gasp as you're pressed harder into the grass, your legs winding around his hips.
"After 200 years...you may be the death of me." 
"Death by fucking too much? There are worse ways to go." You hum happily as the he takes your hands in his and stretches your arms above your head to pin them down against the ground, his weight crushing you, forcing his cock deeper inside. You whimper and your eyes roll, toes curling at how entirely full you feel.
"A—ah, fuck—?"
His grip tightens around your hands and he pulls his hips back until he's almost the entire way out before he slams his sensitive cock back into your pussy. You feel his cum pushing out of you, pushing deeper inside you, each movement causing his entire body to shudder and tremble as he fights through his overstimulation to please you. You reward him with unabashed sounds of satisfaction, your heels digging into the backs of his thighs to urge him on, your hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. Knowing all too well the want to not get caught left your minds from the start.
Logan lowers himself, his entire body encompassing yours with its size as he rocks his hips into you, his dick twitching within your clenching walls, loud, almost pained sounds of unbelievable pleasure muffled against your neck as he feels you unravel around him. You reach your peak, it hits you hard, you turn your face into the crook of his neck as mouth opens in a soundless scream of euphoria. 
You don't know when it happens, but all at once somewhere in the middle of your moaning, Logan makes a wounded noise and you're flooded once again with seed, delirious and writhing beneath him as you take it. You hear the sound of his claws unsheathed as his hips trust more and more until he's empty and your completely full.
He finally releases your hands and slumps on top of you, careful not to completely crush you underneath him, but curling into you and holding tight. You throw your arms around him, breathing erratic as you pulse through your climax, threading your fingers through his hair and clutching him to your body as you feel his smile against your collarbone. 
No words are said as the scent of sex and sweat permeates around the two of you. Both of you holding each other for some time, enjoying the post orgasmic bliss. Lips meet meld into lazy kisses, noses pressed against each other. Both of you share breath as you kiss, too exhausted to pull apart.
HIs muscular arms envelope your body, cradling you protectively. Together relishing in the feeling of the rise and fall of the the others chest, both familiar and new.
You feel your eyes flutter closed, easing into Logan's warm embrace.
-
The next time your eyes open, the sun almost over the horizon. You look around to see Logan is no where in sight. You wondering where he could have gotten to, you sat up looking over toward the sound of the others at the base.
The sound of the others reaches the small woods, conversation just barely too far off to be made out. You see Logan walking into the clearing with a large bucket of warm water and a wash rag with him.
"Logan...are you-"
Before you can speak he takes one of your hands and begins to press the warm damp fabric against your skin. His motion is slow and purposeful. You couldn't help but sigh. Your Logan was always surpassing your expectations of a lover. Here he was, it may not be your Logan caring for you, but in a way you couldn’t have dreamt of asking this from him.
He looks at you seeing a hint of tenderness in your eyes. Soon your guided to twist to face away from him, his strong arms pressing the warm cloth against your sore muscles and long healed scars.
You moaned sighs at the sensation, he takes care to clean every surface of your body. His eyes are focused, consumed wholly in this act of love. You watch him. Adoration and love builds up in your chest at the ways his eyebrows crease and his eyes focus.
You turn your body back to face him, both of you shareing a longing look. He sees into your very person, and you into his. His eyes drift between your legs, and worry enters his mind.
“I - lost myself in the moment. I shouldn't have done that.”
You placed an affectionate hand over your lower belly with a subtle smile.
“Don't worry Logan, I'm not upset. It felt good in the moment." He moves in closer as you lie back down against the grass, spreading her legs for him. You feel the warm rag against you, the touch isn’t sexual, But rather filled with the same love and care it had pressed into her skin just a moment before.
"I don’t regret it at all.” You say as you pull him to lay beside you.
"Do you?" You asked as you felt your heart beat quicken. With a sigh and a smile he combs out your hair with his fingers, moving the loose strands of hair away from your face.
"Never."
You relaxed as you felt him melting in your arms, content beyond all measure, whispering words of love and devotion in your ear.
"We should probably head back soon, otherwise Wade may find us."
"If he does he can fuck off." Logan said pulling you in closer as you chuckled to yourself. You smiled up at him as you brought your head against his chest, a few more hours would be alright, at least for now.
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avcdgrdn · 1 day
Text
── .✦ [ FIC ]: can i really stay here? [ part two ]
[ a continuation of part one ]
mullet stanley pines x innkeeper reader
tags: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, sfw
word count: 1875
˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆。˚
in any other circumstances, you wouldn’t even dare to imagine holding a man you had just met the same day.
but stan … was different.
when your eyes first locked with his from across the counter, you could tell that he was hurting, and badly. he was trying so hard to cover it up, and it worked for the most part — after all, up until now, nobody had cared about him enough to see through his facade.
but you saw straight through him. and not only that, you actually did something about it. you offered to care for his needs, at your own expense.
his father only ever saw him as an expense.
so, there you were, sitting at the bar, holding onto the maroon fabric of his jacket as he trembled like a leaf.
the scent of cigarette smoke and pine needles was strong in your nose as he buried his face into your shoulder. you could feel his stubble scratching against your skin.
there was a part of you that wanted to speak up and comfort him, but ultimately you decided against it. you didn’t quite know enough about him to be able to speak to his situation.
after a few minutes, stan seemed to be calming down. his breathing became even, although he was still clinging onto you tightly.
“i …”
his voice was cracked and raspy.
“i … screwed up. i don’t … know how i’m gonna fix it.”
your brow furrowed as you listened to him.
“y’know, stan … i don’t know what you’re going through. but can you do me one favor?”
“... yeah?”
“look at me.”
slowly, the brunet lifted his head, pulling himself back just enough to be able to look at you. his eyes were red and puffy, but his gaze was sincere.
you looked back at him, determined. “i’m gonna help you out.”
stan didn’t know how to react. he swallowed a lump in his throat, scanning your face as if to check whether you were lying to him or not.
“... you don’t … hafta do that. i brought it on myself—”
“i don’t care.”
his eyes widened.
“if i can keep somebody from a worse fate, then i’ll do it. let me give you a place to stay, even if it’s just for a little while.” you smiled warmly, squeezing his arm for emphasis. “you shouldn’t have to feel like your life means nothing.”
“… you’re an angel.”
those words made you blush. “i–i wouldn’t say that—”
uh-oh, he’s smirking now. chuckling lowly, he let go of you so that he could cross his arms over his chest.
“what, are you tryna tell me you’re not sent from heaven? think about it. you’re saving my biscuits here, toots.” there was serious gratitude in his tone, despite his teasing. at least he seemed to be in a better mood. “i think i’ll hafta call you that more often, yeah? angel.”
you laughed nervously, trying desperately to distract yourself from your red hot face. “really? h–how interesting …”
stan snickered again, gazing at you for a moment longer with fondness dancing in his brown eyes. then, glancing at the wall clock, he realized the time. “damn, it’s midnight. i should probably stop bothering you ‘nd get to bed, huh?”
“huh, it is late … i should sleep, too.”
“then it’s decided. i’ll see ya tomorrow.” he hummed, standing from his seat and stretching out his arms before cracking a soft smile and turning around to walk towards his room.
you were left to watch him leave, your eyes following his footsteps as he made his way back up the staircase.
approximately eight hours later, you awoke to the sunlight gently filtering through your bedside window, causing your eyelids to flutter open.
the events of last night came flooding back into your mind.
i guess i’ll be seeing a whole lot more of him …
sitting up in bed, you yawned, rubbing your face sleepily.
“mm … what time is it …”
the alarm clock on your nightstand read 8:02 am.
shoot, i overslept—oh, wait. it’s my day off.
that little fact was enough to put you in a good mood for the morning. humming happily to yourself, you began to get ready for the day, picking out a comfortable outfit and a few accessories.
descending two flights of stairs, you wandered into the lobby of your inn, greeting a few different patrons and employees with a cheerful wave. it was breakfast rush hour for the kitchen, and you could catch glimpses of your executive chef running to and fro behind the bar.
he seems pretty busy today. maybe i’ll grab a bite to eat somewhere? hmm, but the question is where …
just then, your train of thought was interrupted by the sound of someone calling out your name.
you whipped around to locate the voice’s source, and there was stan, walking towards you at a leisurely pace. a radiant grin broke out on your face.
“stan! hey, good morning! how’d you sleep?”
raising a brow, he chuckled at your energy. “well, good morning, sunshine. i slept like a baby, thanks t’ you.”
“ah, don’t mention it.” you smiled, placing your hands on your hips. “i’m just glad you could sleep.”
the two of you looked at each other for a second.
why did his stare make you feel butterflies in your chest?
probably unimportant ………… right? yeah.
clearing your throat, you averted your gaze before you started to blush again. “so, um … have you had anything to eat yet?”
“nah. i was just about to, though.” to be frank, he had totally forgotten that he had access to breakfast until you just mentioned it.
“sounds goo–”
you paused mid-sentence, remembering something.
“actually … i was planning on eating out for breakfast today. would you wanna join me? since the kitchen is bustling and all …”
oh, wow. did you really just ask him out to breakfast? it didn’t hit you until after you had said it out loud that it could be considered that way. oops. was that weird? were you weird? augh.
stan had half a mind to tease you senseless for how cute that was, but after thinking about it, he decided against it. he wouldn’t wanna ruin his chances at having breakfast with you.
“you kiddin’? i’d love that.” he nodded his head, flattered and amused. “not many people can say they’ve had breakfast with an angel, ya know.”
your ears turned red.
i walked right into that one. darn you and your smooth talking …
“oh, let’s just go already.” embarrassed, you grabbed his wrist, pulling him along towards the front door. stan laughed heartily, allowing himself to be led.
it wasn’t long before you arrived at one of your favorite diners in town, known for their homey atmosphere and good breakfast. walking into the building, you were met with the smell of eggs, bacon, and coffee. the two of you breathed it in simultaneously, sighing.
“reminds me of breakfast as a kid.” stanley mused, thinking of the days when he and ford would poke at each other’s food and giggle. you smiled, watching his expression.
“c’mon, this way.” you beckoned him over towards the table you usually sat at, and a familiar waitress walked over to you as you settled in.
“good morning, loyal patron~ i see you’ve brought a plus one today, yes?”
“uh—yes. don’t go jumping to conclusions, though …”
the waitress grinned innocently. “of course. now, what can i get for you two?”
stan wound up ordering pancakes with bacon and eggs, while you settled on some waffles and a mug of coffee. you could have sworn you saw that waitress giggling to her coworker about something as she went on her way, but you shook your head to yourself in an attempt to ignore it. instead, you directed your attention towards the man sitting across from you.
“so, i’m guessin’ you’re a regular here?” he tilted his head, leaning back against his seat. there was a smirk plastered onto his face that you couldn’t quite decipher.
“you would guess correctly.” you hummed, picking up the salt shaker on the table and fidgeting with it absentmindedly. “have you ever been?”
a rumbling sigh escaped his lips.
“nah … i’m not exactly from around here.”
your gaze was trained on him. so far, he’s kept a laid-back demeanor, not to mention that little smirk that drives you insane—but you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was way more depth to his character than he let on.
“yeah? where’re you from?”
“...”
there was a brief silence. his chocolate brown eyes, warmly lit by the sun, stared into your soul.
“i’m from new jersey.”
your eyebrows shot up. “from jersey? wow … you’re far from home, then.”
“it’s not home anymore.”
you opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again. stan was staring out the window, a frown creasing his face.
“i … sorry. sensitive topic?”
he turned back to you, a faint blush appearing on his face. “uh … well, yeah, i guess … it’s okay.”
“come again?”
“... it’s, uh—i–i’m okay, if it’s you.”
he was a darker shade of red now, scratching awkwardly at his stubble. he felt so … vulnerable. but somehow, he was okay with it.
at that moment, the waitress came back with plates of food. “order up!”
you watched as you were served, salivating as you saw golden waffles covered in butter and syrup smiling up at you. it didn’t take long for the both of you to start digging in.
“... wow.” after the first few bites, stan had stars in his eyes. “it tastes just like ma’s.”
“was your mom a good cook?”
he snorted. “well, she wasn’t exactly a michelin star chef, but she could make some damn good flapjacks. at least, i sure thought so.” putting another forkful of pancake into his mouth, he chewed thoughtfully. you simply propped your head on one hand, watching.
“i always told her she could sell ‘em for a fortune.”
his tone was soft with nostalgia.
“she just laughed. prob’ly cause i was five when i told her that.”
“they must’ve been really something, huh?”
“they were. all my life, i dreamt of selling somethin’ as good as that. i haven’t stopped trying, either.”
he scoffed.
“most of ‘em have been a bust.”
you hummed softly in understanding.
“you’re still trying, though. that’s worth more than any failed effort.”
he looked up from his plate. “... you think so?”
“sure i do.” lifting your mug, you took a sip of coffee. “perseverance is worth a lot.”
stan could barely handle your uplifting words. his heart was squeezing in his chest. covering his flustered face with one hand, he leaned against the table, grumbling.
“... an angel … God sent an angel.”
“what?”
“what? nothing.”
a few hours later, you were walking side by side back to the inn. stan couldn’t help but admire the way the fall breeze tousled your hair, and the gentle smile on his face was speaking his thoughts out loud.
he’d never known that somebody this beautiful could even exist.
maybe ...
maybe he hasn’t hit rock bottom quite yet.
end
author's note:
thank you for all the love on this fic !!! :D
part three ....????? any part three hopefuls out there?
i gotta keep cooking.
if you have any fic or headcanon requests, hit up my askbox! <3
tag list: @icouldntthinkofanythingclever @seahorrorz @blustalker @hay-needle @phanmai1002
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whimsyfinny · 3 days
Text
He's a Winchester
Chapter 2
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.
Slow burn (ish), mom!reader
Warnings: language, mention of toxic parenting/custody battle, angst, alcohol,
Chapter Word Count: 3471
MDNI 18+
A/N: here it is! I’m not gonna lie, this is going to be very slow burn at first, but don’t worry, you know me and you know how much juicy content I write so it’s definitely coming hahaha. I’m also trying to figure out a schedule for posting this, so hopefully I can upload two chapters a week.
A/N2: GUYS IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING but PLEEEEASE provide your age if you want to be added to the taglist and it isn’t in your blog. This story is tame now but it’s gonna get spicy, and my blog is strictly 18+. So pleeeeease save be a very long job and help a gal out. 
Photos from Pinterest
Previous Chapter: Chapter 1
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Chapter 2
I reached for the bottle of wine for the third time in the last hour and a half. I was sitting with Kat, pyjamas adorned, in the living room of mine and Levi's modest two bedroom house. For financial (and personal) reasons, our little house didn't follow current trends and looked more like something out of a popular 90s sitcom. The couch was comfy, the blankets were fuzzy, and a fresh pot of coffee was always brewing. Pictures embellished the walls of every milestone Levi had achieved; every birthday party, every new dirt bike, every new hairstyle. There were a few of Kat and I from over the years, going way back to when we first met back in ‘99 and both decided to rock platform heels on at the turn of the millennium - having tiny babies at the time didn't seem to stop us. Every single moment on these walls was a happy memory - something that I would treasure forever, yet there was something missing. There were no photos - or perhaps a scarce few - of my own parents, or of them with Levi, or of any extended family for that matter. The price I paid when I decided to have my son out of wedlock, at barely twenty years old, with a man who my family saw as a total stranger, is a price I'd pay every time in a heartbeat. Kat and Toby were our family now, and that was more than I could ever ask for. That was why the sheer possibility of Levi getting to meet his dad for the first time in, well, ever… it had my mind spinning. It was a scenario I'd dreamt of, late at night when I couldn't sleep and the burdens of life weighed me down. I conjured false memories in my minds eye of the pair of them fixing his bike on the drive or driving to school in the impala. I pictured us having breakfast together as a family and taking trips to the movies. Being together. Because no matter how many dates I went on, or how many frogs I’d kissed over the years, none of them were Levi's father.
None of them were Dean Winchester.
“Girl you have to reach out to him,” Kat walked in from the adjacent kitchen before slumping on the couch next to me, wine glass elevated to reduce spillage.
“Kat I could barely look at him today without feeling like I was going to have a heart attack - how the fuck am I supposed to talk to him?” I glanced at her with wide eyes, every nerve in my body on edge despite the wine and scented candles. Kat sighed. 
“You might never get this opportunity again, and we both know that if you don’t give Levi the opportunity to meet his father then you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.” I held my breath, urging the raging storm in my mind to quiet down before letting the air gush from my lungs.
“Yeah I know. I just…I just never thought that this would actually happen, you know? I never thought that Dean would show up here. I figured Levi would eventually track him down when he was old enough to make that decision on his own. I have no idea how to even approach this.”
“Sure you do!” Kat beamed, a wicked glint in her eye, “you sit him down and say, ‘Hey Dean! Remember when we had sex in the back of that amazing car of yours nine years ago? Well, actions have consequences, and yours in eight years old and sitting in his science class right now.’”
I couldn't stop the grin from spreading across my face and I cackled when the bit of popcorn I threw landed in her wine glass.
“Bitch.”
I blew her a kiss in response to her insult. It didn’t take long though for the distraction to run its course and for my mind to return to its state of panic.
“But seriously, what am I going to say to him? What if I tell him, and he rejects us too, like my family did?”
Her smile softened.
“From everything that you’ve told me about that man, I highly doubt he’s going to reject you. Sure, he might not stick around permanently, but he sounds like the kind of guy that would stay in touch,” her softened smile turned to a stern stare, “but he’s only going to do that if he knows. He deserves to know he has a son.”
I took a long gulp of my wine. 
“Yeah, I’m going to tell him…” I paused, gnawing my bottom lip as I drew my knees to my chest, “it’s Saturday tomorrow so I’m not at work and Levi has two hours at the track. I can try to do it tomorrow, but I’m not sure if I’ll even be able to track Dean down in that time - I have no idea where he could be.”
“Hey, I’ll pick up Levi from Motocross - it’s been a few days since him and Toby have spent any proper time together anyway, just them two. Tobes’ has been dying to show him those brand new boots of his.”
We shared a smile. That’s the thing about Kat; she always had my back, no matter the situation.
“Thanks babes, I owe you one.”
She shook her head.
“No way - this is me returning the favour from when Toby’s dad decided to show an interest in his own child. I’m pretty sure my kid thought you were adopting him at one point from how much he stayed here,” I laughed, remembering the camp bed I bought especially for Toby, along with all the extra duvet sets and boxes of cereal I’d had to purchase for the best part of half a year.
“He’s a good kid, and honestly he and Levi entertained themselves for most of it.”
There was another pause in the conversation as I recounted how difficult it had been for Kat when David had shown up, insisting on being a part of Tobys life despite zero contact since his son was born. They’d argued over custody, over which school he went to, the clubs he attended. Even his hobbies were on the line, with David wanting him to play football despite Toby already being involved down at the track with the bikes. The stress caused Kat to lose weight and sleep, and she nearly lost her job over it all when she kept falling asleep at her desk. I’d lost count of how many times she’d cried in my arms. Cried over a man who thought that practically owning his son was his God given right despite being an absent father, and I think that is what scared me the most. That I would feel the same wretched things that she felt, and the waves of disappointment that crashed over her time and time again when false promises were made. It took her months to settle on an agreement due to David's behaviour, and Toby finally sees his father, albeit only for one weekend a month. It's better than nothing, but certainly not worth the fight that was fought with blood, sweat and tears. 
I hope from the bottom of my heart that Dean takes the news well, and doesn't leave us in the dust like he does in my worst nightmares.
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It had taken me around thirty minutes to track down Dean. Well, to at least find the impala. It's common knowledge that if you find that car, Dean isn't far away. I’d parked my truck two spaces down, and luckily we were within walking distance of my favourite café, Jolenes’. It was my safe space. The place that I would finally tell him about Levi.
I pulled the sleeves of my soft cardigan down over my hands to stop myself from chewing nervously on my nails. Leaving the safety of my truck, I paced over to the black Chevy and stood by it, determined to speak to Dean as soon as possible. I knew that if I had stayed sitting behind my own wheel, there was a huge chance that I'd chicken out and just drive away. As I waited I checked over the car in front of me, admiring how he still kept it spotless after all these years. Unable to stop myself, I let my gaze drift over to the backseat, the events that unfurled on the soft leather racing to mind. I pulled my lip between my teeth, unable to resist the replay of memories.
“You have good taste in cars.”
I practically launched out my skin as the voice came from behind me. I could hear the amusement in his voice from a few feet away. I spun on my heel and our eyes locked, the charming grin slipping slightly from Deans’ lips when he realised it was me. The playfulness in his features quickly softened, a true, genuine smile now gracing his lips.
“Dean…” I suddenly felt breathless, but despite my nerves I returned his smile in kind.
“It's good to see you (Y/n),” he stepped forward and pulled me into his arms, enveloping me in his entirety. I closed my eyes as I hugged him back, wrapping my arms around his neck and taking a deep breath, my brain tingling at his familiar scent.
“You too, Dean. It's been too long.”
After a moment we released each other and Dean stood up straight, smiling at me again with a soft twinkle in his eye. We both flinched slightly when someone cleared their throat and he took a step back. 
“Oh, uh, (Y/n), this is Sam, my younger brother,” he patted the shoulder of the young man standing beside him, and I instantly recognised him from the dessert parlour. He was tall, taller than Dean even, which was one hell of an accomplishment, and his face held a similar boyish charm to Deans. Yet he looked softer around the edges, like he hadn't been hardened by life too much yet.
“It's a pleasure, I'm (Y/n). I've known you're brother for a while,” I smiled as I shook his hand, taking note of the rough calluses beginning to form on his palms. “He used to talk about you all the time, apparently you're the smart one of the family,” with a grin and a quick glance at Dean, I tested the waters with humour. If he laughed or took the blow like a champ, now was a good time to talk to him. Sam chuckled, squeezing my hand slightly in his before letting it go. 
“Ouch… (Y/n), sweetheart, aren't you supposed to be on my side here? Y’know, with our history and all…?” he feigned hurt with a hand on his chest before his lips twitched up and he shot me a wink.
“I mean… she's not wrong,” Sam laughed, dropping his hands lazily into his pockets.
“Hey, I'm just going on what you told me, Dean. Don't hold that against me,” I grinned at them both, unsure of what to do with my hands so I crossed them across my chest.
A small breath of silence passed between us, Deans’ gaze holding mine with an intensity that made me want to look away. I didn't. Sam cleared his throat again, clapping his hand to Deans’ shoulder before taking a step back.
“I'll, uh, give you guys a few minutes,” and with an appreciative nod from Dean, Sam gave us some space. With his younger brother gone, my heart began to flutter in my chest. The time to break the news was getting closer, and my nerves were on edge. On fire.
“So,” he started, taking a step closer with a deep breath, “how's it going? How long has it been?”
“Nine years,” I was almost too hot on the mark, my words coming out faster than I'd intended and Dean blinked slightly. I sighed, looking down. “There's been a lot going on, and honestly, I've really needed you at times. You're a hard man to find Dean Winchester.” 
“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” his brows pinched apologetically and he reached for my hand, tracing my knuckles with his thumb. I took a deep breath and met his gaze again.
“Do you… do you have some time? I need to talk to you. It's important, and if I don't do it now, I don't know if I'll get another chance.” 
He nodded slowly, giving my hand a squeeze, releasing it hesitantly with a slight wince to his features.
“Uh oh,” he said, “am I in trouble?”
I laughed, the sound light off my chest.
“Oh Dean,” I reached up to touch his face, and his instinctive reaction was to lean into my palm, “you don't know the half of it.” 
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The walk to the café had been pleasant. We chatted about what we'd been up to since we last met - Dean revealing he was still in the same line of work and had travelled around a lot, never really settling down. There was something about that nugget of information that made my stomach twist in knots. He learnt I was still a receptionist, this time at the local garage  instead of the large dealership I had scored before. He asked why I'd changed, to go to something smaller, lesser, and my silence urged him to wait until we were at our destination. He knew I was anxious, and he did his best to keep conversation light and breezy until the time was right. To an untrained eye he was unphased, yet I could tell from the lip nibbling and flitting gaze that he was nervous too.
Do you think he's already guessed it?
The bell jingled as we walked in, the two baristas looking up and instantly greeting me with a wave and a smile.
“Hey (Y/n)! Your couch is free,” the first barista, a young man around my age with soft blond curls waved to me across the counter, his brilliant grin making me smile with a comforting familiarity. “Your usual?”
“Yes please! Thanks, Jake,” I returned the friendliness, stepping around the tables until we arrived at my favourite spot.
“And for your… date?” He gestured to Dean, who was now shrugging off his leather jacket, “what can I get for you pal?” 
Dean hesitated, before just holding his hands up.
“Uhhh, I don't know, I guess I'll have what she's having.”
With our hot beverages on their way, I sat down in my usual nook in the corner whilst Dean sat down opposite, in that same plush armchair that Kat had sat in yesterday. Where Kat had been swallowed by the chair and its all-consuming cushions, Dean had the opposite effect. He made the chair look small under his broad form, like it was made for a child. There were a few moments of silence, neither of us really knowing where to start. So I bit the bullet.
“Dean… before I tell you anything, just know that I've been trying to get hold of you on and off for years. Your number always seemed to go to voicemail and I never got a call back. So please just… know I tried.” 
I looked up and he was totally engaged, already hanging off every word I said as he leant forward, his elbows on his knees. Our attention pulled away from each other briefly as our coffees arrived, hand delivered by the second barista - a woman a few years older than myself with a jet black pixie cut.
“Thanks Emily, you're an angel,” I grasped the mug before she even had a chance to put it on the table and clutched it in my lap, letting the warmth seep through my palms to help soothe my nerves. 
“No worries babes, you two have fun,” she looked between Dean and me with a playful smirk, throwing me a wink before she turned around. 
Great, the gossip starts now.
I turned back to Dean who was now sitting on the edge of his seat. I took a deep breath.
Do it now.
“Dean, I have a son.”
I watched his face twitch slightly, almost like it dropped in disappointment, however it was so fleeting across his features that it was hard to tell. He pulled a strained smile onto his lips.
“(Y/n) that's great, I'm happy for you,” he looked down at his boots briefly, choosing his next words, “I guess this is you telling me to stay away, huh? Now that you have a family and all. It's ok, I get it.”
I shook my head, placing my cup on the table so I could pull myself to sit on the edge of the couch, almost mirroring Dean.
“No, no Dean, that's not- look, what I'm saying is…” another deep breath, “you, have a son.”
I watched his eyes go wide, unsure if he heard me correctly.
“What?” His voice was breathy.
I looked down into my mug for a second, choosing my words. 
“I have a little boy; he's eight, his name is Levi…and he's yours, Dean. He's your son.”
I dared to look up at him, watching his eyes go wider and his mind empty of thoughts. Either that, or his mind is racing so fast that it's left his body on standby. I gave him a few minutes to process the news. Or at least process it the best he could as it would likely be days or weeks before this fully sunk in. Nervousness prickled at my own skin, my worst fears of rejection bubbling to the surface again at his silence. I sighed.
“It’s ok, Dean, I’m not expecting you to-”
He stood abruptly, stepped over the coffee table and pulled me to my feet, wrapping his strong arms around me in a crushing grip. His arms were so tight that it almost winded me, yet I returned his embrace. The feeling of his lips on the top of my head surprised me as he kissed my hair, the sensation warm and comforting. He placed one, two more kisses before he cupped my face in his large hands, his rough palms gentle against my cheeks as I locked eyes with him. The sight was beautiful. The annoyance and exasperation that I expected to be met with was nowhere to be seen, and I saw no shadow of negativity within those evergreen eyes. All I saw was love. Pride. Joy. Excitement. The relief washing over me felt the same as climbing into your nice, warm comfy bed when on the brink of exhaustion. 
“I’m a dad?” his voice cracked slightly whilst his eyes shimmered.
I nodded as a grin erupted across his face, followed by an airy, almost unbelieving chuckle.
“Holy fuck, (Y/n)-”
“You’re not mad?” my voice was quiet.
“What?” Dean looked at me as though I’d grown a second head, “of course not. Why would I be mad?”
“Because it’s been nine years since we last saw each other, and suddenly this woman who you’ve not spoken to in nearly a decade drops the biggest truth bomb on you. A truth bomb  that I know you definitely weren’t expecting,” I try to step back but he pulls me in for another hug, squeezing the air out of me a second time.
“(Y/n), sweetheart, this is the best bit of news I’ve had in a long, long time.”
I smiled into his chest, freeing my arms to wrap them around his neck and pull him down into a hug of my own. We stood for a moment in our embrace as the coffee shop busied around us. I knew this shop and I knew this town and people would soon start to talk, start to try and figure out Dean: like who is he? How does he know (Y/n)? Why are they acting so familiar? Is he trouble? But that was all unimportant rubbish that I would deal with later. Right now, Levis father was here, and he knew. For the first time in my adult life I felt like I wasn’t keeping some devastating secret from an incredible man, and it was like I could breathe again. 
Pulling away from Deans’ bear hug, I tucked the wisps of hair away that had come loose from my claw grip and grinned up at him, reaching for his hand. I held it in mine as I swayed slightly on the spot, like an excited schoolgirl who’d just been asked on her first date. Dean smiled down at me, the sort of smile that shone on top of the world.
“So…” I started, biting my lip slightly.
“Do you want to meet your son?”
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hannyoontify · 1 day
Text
casual - yoon jeonghan [teaser]
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member | childhood best friend!jeonghan x fem!oc
genre | fluff, angst and angst and lots of angst, childhood best friends to ????
teaser word count | 1k (full fic est. 12k)
synopsis | throughout her childhood, jeonghan was the one constant in jeong-ah's life. he was her rock and she was his, but there was always an unspoken tension between the two, something that made jeong-ah's stomach flutter and her pulse race. was it casual, like jeonghan said? or was there a possibility of being something more?
warnings | none (in teaser)
notes | inspired from this post i made a while back! bc this was inspired by events that happened irl, i had to make it an oc so that things made sense (like their names)
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“You should ask me why we’re in here instead of sleeping like everyone else.”
I let out a sigh that ended in a laugh. “Okay, Jeonghan. Why are we in here instead of sleeping like everyone else?”
Jeonghan immediately straightened his back and turned his body to face me, and I mirrored his movements. The way he looked at me with shining, excited eyes reminded me of the same 5-year old who enjoyed pulling on my pigtails and playing hide-and-seek.
Despite growing a lot in the past decade together, there were still some parts of Yoon Jeonghan that never seemed to change. For example, that mischievous look on his face whenever he was about to do something he wasn’t supposed to. 
“Wait here.” Jeonghan disappeared outside and I couldn’t help but smile at his excited, almost child-like demeanor. Resting my head against the wall, I looked up and saw the sloped ceiling decorated with glow-in-the-dark stars.
The door soon opened again and Jeonghan reappeared with a single cupcake, a match, a candle, and two mini party hats. “I know we all got in trouble with our parents today so we can’t celebrate New Year’s, but I still wanted to do something for you. I know how much you love New Year’s celebrations.”
It was true. When all six of us had gotten in trouble earlier that evening because Jeonghan convinced all of us to try and help him set up a booby trap in his grumpy neighbor's backyard involving popping firecrackers, I was greatly disheartened when our parents decided that our punishment would be a bedtime of 9:30 and no New Year’s celebration.
I was particularly more upset than others because my parents had promised me a year ago that this New Year’s celebration would be the year where I finally got to try champagne.
“Jeonghan, I-” I faltered. I couldn’t find the words to describe how grateful I was to have him at that moment. 
Jeonghan scrambled to sit in the empty spot next to me. “You can thank me and be impressed later, just put this hat on. We only have a minute left.” He snapped on his own party hat before sliding its identical piece over my own head.
With a shaky hand, Jeonghan struck the match and lit the candle that was stuck atop the cupcake. We had made these cupcakes earlier today, with the help of our siblings. It had always been a tradition of ours.
My family would go over to the Yoon family’s house for the New Year’s and we would spend the night. Jeonghan, his older brother, and I were the older ones so we usually resorted to playing video games, board games, and baking while our younger siblings played with toys or watched TV. Our time together was always fun and a big highlight of my winter break every year.
But two years ago, when Jeonghan and I kissed in the summer, something changed. Our conversations became more stiff and awkward and he seemed to avoid me and my text messages more often.
When I consulted my mother about this situation (minus the kissing part), she had laughed and told me, “It’s because both of you are going through puberty now. It’s okay, it’s natural! Your relationship is going to return to normal in no time.”
Albeit it did take two years and a global pandemic for the two of us to be back on speaking terms again, but I was thankful to have my best friend back.
Jeonghan looked at me with a bright smile as he softly began to count down, his phone propped up against the wall so we could keep an eye on the clock. The single flame of the candle seemed to reflect the hundreds and thousands of stars that Jeonghan held within his eyes. His long lashes fluttered against his pale cheek bone and that tear-shaped mole on his right cheek that I had always been fond of. 
“Five… four…” I joined him in the count down, our hands holding the small cupcake together. 
I’d grown to accept the fact that Jeonghan wanted to pretend that kiss never happened. I did a lot of thinking and reflecting to realize that it was our silly pre-pubescent emotions that had gotten the best of us in that moment. It never meant anything.
“Two… one! Happy new year!” Jeonghan cheered. “One, two, three!”
11 years of friendship helped me to immediately recognize Jeonghan’s intent when he began counting again.
When he reached 3, the two of us blew at the single candle and the flame flickered for a moment before it disappeared, leaving a small trail of white smoke in its wake. Jeonghan pulled the candle out of the cupcake and I dipped my finger into the frosting and smeared it across my best friend’s cheek.
Jeonghan smiled with a mischievous glint in his eyes before dipping this thumb into the white frosting and spreading it across my forehead. “Simbaaaaa.”
We both erupted into a fit of childish giggles as I tried to smear another glob of dense, sweet frosting onto his face, but he dodged my hand successfully. But because Jeonghan was blessed by the genetic gods and had much longer arms than I did, he was able to reach over and smudge another spot of white frosting onto the top of my nose.
“Ewww!” I cried loudly.
Jeonghan tried to shush me but it was too late. We heard a door upstairs opening, and a pair of footsteps moving down the stairs. Jeonghan and I held onto each other with bated breaths and when we heard the footsteps slowly fade away, we let out a quiet sigh of relief.
“Maybe they’re just grabbing water or some-” As Jeonghan whispered into my ear, the doorknob of the small door rattled and opened, revealing Mrs. Yoon, half disheveled with a face mask.
I clamped a hand over my mouth to suppress the giggle that was threatening to erupt as Jeonghan fumbled to find the right words. “H-hi, mom. We were just-”
“Out. Both of you. Now.”
Uh oh.
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PLEASEEE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK
and as always, reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^
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amirasainz · 3 days
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Hi! I love your work and have a request that I hope you could do whenever your free. Would you be able to write one where charles has a little sister and it's the monaco grand prix and the photographers won't leave her alone and starts getting anxious but charles and alex are there to help her get through it. I honestly like to read your work whenever I have free time to. Thank you if you are able to write this. ❤️❤️
Stop. This is so adorable. Thank you so much for your request, and I hope you like it!
Enjoy reading and send me some requests!!
-xoxo
Under the Spotlight
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The Monaco Grand Prix was always a monumental event, not just for Charles but for the entire Leclerc family. Racing in his home city, surrounded by the streets he grew up on, filled him with a sense of pride. But this year, things were a little different for his younger sister, Y/N.
At just 17 years old, Y/N was still trying to navigate her own life, balancing school, friends, and living in the shadow of her older brother’s fame. Charles had always been protective of her, knowing how overwhelming the spotlight could be. But with exams and school commitments, she hadn't spent much time in the F1 world lately. Today, however, she was determined to make it to the Monaco paddock right after school, even though she knew the chaos waiting for her.
---
It was the Thursday of the Grand Prix weekend, and Y/N had rushed out of school the moment the bell rang. She hurried through the streets of Monte Carlo, still dressed in her school uniform, and headed straight for the paddock. Charles had offered to send a car to pick her up, but Y/N insisted on walking—feeling a sense of independence. She wanted to surprise him.
As she arrived at the paddock entrance, her bag slung over one shoulder, she could already feel eyes on her. The photographers, always on the lookout for family members of the drivers, instantly recognized her. They crowded around her, snapping photos and shouting questions.
“Y/N! Over here, just a smile!”
“Y/N, are you here to support your brother today?”
"How does it feel being Charles' little sister at his home Grand Prix?"
The cameras were relentless, flashes going off in every direction, and the sea of voices became overwhelming. Her breath hitched, her palms sweaty as her heart raced faster than one of Charles’ qualifying laps. She tried to navigate through them, but there were too many, and she could barely see where she was going.
“Excuse me, please,” Y/N mumbled quietly, her voice drowned out by the clamor. She hugged her bag closer to her chest, feeling more and more trapped. The walls of people pressed in, the loud noises blurring together into one giant roar in her ears.
Suddenly, her chest tightened, and she felt the familiar pang of panic setting in. Her breathing grew shallow, each breath shorter than the last.
Just then, from the corner of her eye, she spotted a familiar figure.
---
Charles was inside the Ferrari garage, chatting with his engineers when his girlfriend, Alexandra, nudged him, her eyes narrowing in concern.
“Charles, isn’t that Y/N?” she asked, pointing towards the entrance.
Charles turned, his heart sinking the moment he saw his little sister surrounded by the mob of photographers. She looked small, vulnerable, and worst of all, he could see the telltale signs of her anxiety setting in.
“Shit,” Charles muttered under his breath before springing into action. “Come on, let’s go,” he said to Alexandra, his protective instincts kicking in.
Together, they made their way quickly through the paddock, pushing past people who were trying to get their attention. The moment Y/N saw Charles and Alexandra approaching, relief washed over her, but the anxiety still clung to her like a heavy weight.
---
“Hey, hey, Y/N!” Charles called out as he reached her, immediately placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. His voice was gentle, but firm. “You’re alright, I’m here.”
Alexandra quickly moved to Y/N’s other side, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Breathe, Y/N. Just breathe. We’ve got you.”
Y/N nodded, trying to steady her breath, but the flashes continued, and the crowd wasn’t giving up.
“Alright, enough!” Charles raised his voice, turning to the photographers with a scowl. “Give her some space. Back off, now!”
Some of them hesitated, but a few persistent ones kept snapping photos until Alexandra stepped in.
“She’s seventeen, and she just came from school. Show some respect,” Alexandra’s voice was sharp, but calm. There was an authority in her tone that even Charles admired. Slowly, the crowd began to disperse, realizing they weren’t going to get more photos out of this situation.
With the worst of the photographers gone, Charles quickly led Y/N away from the commotion, guiding her towards a quiet corner of the Ferrari hospitality area.
---
Once they were away from the noise, Charles crouched down in front of Y/N, who had slumped into a chair, still trying to catch her breath.
“Chérie, look at me,” Charles said softly, tilting her chin up so their eyes met. “Deep breaths, okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth. Just like we practiced, remember?”
Y/N nodded shakily, following his lead as he demonstrated a few slow, deep breaths.
“In... and out,” he coached gently.
Beside them, Alexandra crouched down too, rubbing Y/N’s back in slow circles. “You’re doing great, jolie fille. Just focus on your breathing. Everything else can wait.”
After a few minutes, Y/N’s breathing began to slow, and the tightness in her chest started to ease. She looked up at Charles and Alexandra, her eyes filled with gratitude.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I just... I didn’t expect it to be so much. I thought I could handle it.”
Charles smiled gently, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Hey, it’s alright. You don’t have to handle everything on your own. That’s what I’m here for.”
“You did great coming straight after school,” Alexandra added, her tone soft. “But next time, let us know when you’re on your way. We’ll meet you at the entrance so you don’t have to go through that again.”
Y/N nodded, feeling more grounded with them by her side. “I just wanted to surprise you,” she admitted, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
Charles chuckled, sitting down next to her. “Well, you definitely surprised me. But no more surprises when it comes to dealing with that crowd, alright? They can be... intense.”
“You’re telling me,” Y/N said with a nervous laugh, though the tension had finally started to ease.
Alexandra smiled, squeezing Y/N’s hand. “You know, you can always text me, too. I’ll come running.”
Y/N grinned, her eyes softening. “Thanks, Alex. You guys are the best.”
“Of course,” Charles said, his protective tone still lingering. He leaned closer, his voice dropping slightly. “And if anyone bothers you again, you let me know. I’ll deal with them.”
Alexandra playfully nudged Charles. “Alright, Mr. Overprotective, calm down. She’s safe now.”
Y/N laughed for real this time, the anxiety of earlier fading into the background. It was moments like this that reminded her how lucky she was to have both of them—Charles, with his fierce protectiveness, and Alexandra, with her calm, caring presence.
Charles stood up, offering his hand to Y/N. “Come on, how about we go somewhere quieter? Maybe grab something to eat?”
Y/N took his hand, standing up and feeling much lighter. “That sounds perfect.”
Alexandra looped her arm through Y/N’s free one. “Let’s go. No photographers this time, I promise.”
As they walked together through the paddock, Y/N couldn’t help but feel grateful. The world of Formula 1 might be overwhelming, but with Charles and Alexandra by her side, she knew she could face anything—even the photographers.
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poisonlove · 3 days
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Break up | j.o
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Pairing: Jenna Ortega X reader
It was a cold and foggy day in Romania, the gray sky seemingly merging perfectly with the gloomy and surreal atmosphere surrounding the set of Wednesday, Tim Burton's new project. I was walking down the corridor leading to the lounge, nervously clutching my jacket around me. The damp and biting air seemed to penetrate to the bone, but the tension inside me was even more oppressive. It had been three months since I last saw Jenna. Between my commitment to a horror film set in Los Angeles and Jenna’s long days of filming, our lives had intertwined in a chaos of distance and frenzy. That’s why I had decided to surprise my girlfriend.
"Hey." I nervously smiled at Emma, while her blue eyes sparkled with amusement, noticing my agitation.
"Jenna’s in there," she said with a smirk, pointing me toward the direction that would lead me to my girlfriend.
I nodded in understanding and made my way to the door that led to the lounge. The room was large but relatively quiet: a coffee machine in one corner of the room, a table, chairs, and a sofa at the other end. A few staff members were bustling around with cameras and props, my eyes searching for the one I loved and admired so much.
There she was.
Jenna was sitting on the sofa, her usual headphones around her ears, allowing her to isolate herself from the world while flipping through what looked like a script. I approached her, my heart pounding, and positioned myself in front of her. Her brown eyes slowly scanned my figure, so slowly that I could feel my heartbeat increase by the second. When her eyes met mine, I sighed and gave a spontaneous smile.
"Hi," I said with a small smile on my lips.
Jenna took off her headphones and left them around her neck.
She blinked in surprise. "I wasn’t expecting this," she murmured timidly, making me frown in confusion.
She got up from the sofa and gave me a quick hug, but it felt so strange and forced. "Is everything okay?" I asked nervously, a strange feeling creeping into my gut.
Jenna took a step back and looked at me without blinking, a small smile on her lips. "Yes... I’m just tired," she replied, her gaze drifting off into space. "This project is draining me."
I nodded, trying to smile in a way that would ease the tension. "I understand, maybe we can spend some time together afterward... you know, watch a movie or something."
"I don’t know, I have a cello lesson," she said calmly, her tired eyes meeting mine. Huge dark circles underlined the sleepless nights she had been through.
"Dinner, maybe?" I asked hopefully.
Jenna nodded timidly, but there was no enthusiasm on her face, only acknowledgment. I placed my hands on her waist and leaned in to capture her lips with mine. The kiss was mechanical. Her lips, once soft and warm, were now cold and distant.
Something was wrong.
"Jenna, can we talk?" I asked in concern. Something was off, and I needed answers.
She sighed and glanced at the clock on the wall, frowning. "Break’s almost over, I have to get back to the set."
Frustration started to build.
"It won’t take long, I promise," I insisted. I felt my voice tremble, but I couldn’t let this slip away without an explanation.
I took Jenna’s hand and led her toward the exit of the lounge. The biting cold hit my face immediately, making me feel the chill down to my bones. Jenna wrapped her arms around herself, trying to shield herself from the icy wind as her eyes watched me with a mix of anticipation and frustration. She quickly glanced around, almost cautiously, making sure no one was nearby before turning her attention back to me.
"What’s going on, Jenna?" My voice was a whisper, my fear too evident. I couldn’t ignore this distance between us.
She looked at me for a long moment, her expression impassive as if she were trying to find the right words. Finally, she sighed loudly. "Nothing, I’m just tired from work."
"Jenna..." I started, immediately picking up on her lie.
"Really, it’s nothing," she said with a smile.
"It’s not true," I insisted, the anger of being deceived taking over. "I know you, Jenna. Please, tell me what’s going on," I pleaded with a small voice, fear growing in my chest.
A tense silence settled between us, and my nervousness grew with each passing second. Jenna lowered her gaze, then raised it again with a look full of unease, as if a secret torment was consuming her. "I don’t know, okay? I don’t know what I want... We... we’ve been moving too fast," she finally admitted, her voice faltering with hesitation.
The realization hit me.
"What? Are you trying to say that..." I started, tears threatening to spill at any moment. No, it couldn’t be true. All the months spent together, the video calls, the kisses... Everything made sense.
Jenna looked at me with guilt.
"I..." she began, tears welling up in her eyes. Her lower lip trembled, and the awareness of what was about to happen hit me like a punch to the stomach.
"I’m exhausted, y/n," she admitted.
I quickly shook my head, unable to accept her words. "We can make it, Jenna. We can do it together," I suggested nervously, unwilling to give up so easily.
Jenna shook her head, making me feel an intense pain in my chest. "No, y/n. The distance, the work, all of this is hurting me," she confessed.
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"It’s over between us," she murmured.
The world collapsed around me. There was nothing left to do; Jenna had already made her decision. I looked at her in pain, tears running down my cheeks as she gazed at me with sadness, the pain visible on her face.
"I’m sorry..." she added in a broken voice.
I bit my lower lip, trying to stifle a sob, and bowed my head, hiding my emotions. My heart was shattered, and a feeling of emptiness dominated my stomach. It was over. I turned my back and walked away from the set, the awareness that Jenna had left me dominating my thoughts.
Don’t turn back. Don’t turn back. Don’t go to her to try to change her mind. Don’t look into her eyes.
Don’t do anything.
Just move forward, even though the world had fallen apart.
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quack-quack-snacks · 2 days
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Time Will Tell - Chapter 24
My Time Will Tell Masterlist
My Cha Hyun-su Masterlist
My Navigation and Masterlist
The Time Will Tell Glossary
Warnings: The spider monster attack, reader gets injured (we love an injured queen), Hyun-su finally gets to choose his destiny (he pulls a Britney Spears). Word Count: 2,260
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You couldn’t stand watching the scene of Hyun-su just dangling in the air, wrapped up with nowhere to go and unable to do anything about it. 
Instead, you went back to the nursery to find your siblings. When you got there, you only saw Yeong-su playing with his dinosaur next to Jin-ok and you walked over to lean down next to him. “Annyeong Yeong-su, have you seen your sister anywhere?” You asked him.
He looked up at you with a small pout. “No. She said she’d come play dinosaurs with me but she hasn’t come yet.”
“I’ll go find her and then the three of us can play. How about that?” You asked him with a smile and he immediately brightened up, nodding ecstatically.
So, you ventured off to find your sister, using it as a distraction from the rescue mission you weren’t participating in on the floor below you. It took you a while but you finally saw her just wandering the halls with a lost look on her face. It brightened when she saw you and you smiled at her. “Yeodongsaeng, you know you’re not supposed to be going off on your own. You’ll get lost or something could happen!” You lightly scolded and held out your hand for her to grab. She did happily and you started leading her in the direction of the nursery. 
“I didn’t mean to, I was just trying to find Mr. Ha-” She was cut off by an ear-piercing screech that sounded from right behind you. You were already preparing to run even before you saw the eight-legged creature crawl out of a vent on the ceiling. 
You acted purely on instinct when you picked Su-yeong up and started running. She screamed as she saw the monster quickly approaching you from behind and hid her face in your neck. You rounded the corner just in time to avoid the beast crashing into you, sending it flying into the wall with a sickening crack! instead. You let out a breath of relief when you saw Mr. Han aiming his crutch gun at the beast and you pushed your legs even faster. “Han Du-sik, move!” You screamed at him when the monster fell to the floor, incapacitated. You knew it would only stay down for so long and you wanted him to get out of there as soon as possible, especially with him being at a disadvantage. 
You didn’t look back, but you could hear the squeaking of his wheels as he pushed them vigorously and sped away. You were set on getting Su-yeong to Jin-ok with your brother and protecting her before retreating to help the man; your axe was in the nursery anyways. 
When you got there, you could see the room was boarded up, each of the residents completely abandoning the drill exercises you all had practiced so many times. It made you furious but you couldn’t do anything about it at that moment. 
You banged harshly on the door to let them know you were out there before setting Su-yeong down and crouching to be at her level. “Get them to open the door for you and stay with Ms. Cha and Yeong-su, okay? I’m going to go help Mr. Han deal with the monster.”
You gave her a kiss on the forehead and ran away, leaving no room for a discussion as you barrelled to where you last saw Du-sik, completely abandoning your axe that was stored inside. 
Sure enough, you found him, but he was lying on the floor, his wheelchair lying sideways with the wheels spinning aimlessly. “Han Du-sik!” You called out, running towards him and putting your arms under his armpits. You tried pulling him away despite his pleas to run away but you weren’t strong enough. The monster arrived just as you’d barely gotten him six feet away from where you found him and you cursed under your breath.
Just when you collapsed, falling beside the man and preparing yourself for the monster’s attack as it neared, Du-sik slammed his crutch against a lever on the pillar beside you. A string attached itself to one of the monster’s legs and left it dangling in the air. You almost let out a sigh of relief until you felt a searing pain slash against your side and you were sent flying in the air. 
One of the spider monster’s legs had flailed around and gone clean through your shirt and side. It held onto your shirt while Han Du-sik grabbed onto your ankle, trying to pull you back. You were amazed at how your flimsy T-shirt was holding strong while the body it surrounded was being tugged in two different directions. 
Turning as much as you could while in the hold of both the monster and Mr. Han, you banged your fists against any part of the monster you could reach with every ounce of strength you had. Your - still injured from you punching the glass case holding the axe just barely three days ago - hand’s wounds must have reopened because you could see the white bandage that wrapped around it was starting to stain itself with a growing blood patch. 
Then, as quickly as you were raised into the air, you were dropped. You fell onto your back, the wind getting knocked out of you and you gasped uselessly. You could distantly hear Mr. Han screaming for you to run away but you could only bring yourself to move a few meters before you collapsed again, still unable to breathe and gasping for air. You gripped at your shirt and clawed at your neck for air until finally, finally, you felt a breath of air find its way into your lungs. You panted heavily, taking in breath after breath greedily and mentally thanking every single tree that existed. You looked up and saw one of the claws had pierced right through Du-sik’s leg, leaving it a bleeding mess on the floor. His face showed no pain so you assumed he couldn’t feel it but it was still a worrying sight. 
You could truly only watch as he hit the monsterized leg going through his own leg. The lack of air, along with the blood loss you were going through with your side bleeding profusely, made your body weak. 
You thanked your saviors when he was able to dislodge the claw and the beast was sent into the air by the group of girls holding the rope. When you looked over, you were able to see your little sister among the mix of people holding the rope; the only one you didn’t see was Eun-yu-
“You ugly eight-legged bastard freak! Fuck you!” 
Speak of the devil.
Eun-yu came sprinting up behind you with a lit Molotov cocktail and chucked it at the monster. You knew she was most likely aiming at its torso but with the way it was thrashing around she only managed to set one of its legs on fire. Regardless, you thanked her mentally as she helped you up and started to basically drag you away to a safer location. You made a note to thank her verbally whenever you regained the ability to speak. 
You stumbled alongside her until you both swung around when you heard screams as the group fell, losing their grip on the creature and unintentionally setting it free. 
You watched as its sights set on you and Eun-yu.
You watched it regain its footing and start crawling towards you.
You watched the horror dawn itself on Eun-yu’s face.
And so you did it without thinking. 
You used every ounce of strength left in your body to shove Eun-yu out of the way. She looked up as you did and screamed your name. A sad smile spread on your face as you accepted your fate. Your only regret was never saying goodbye to your siblings, forcing them to live as they had with your father’s death. You closed your eyes and waited as the creature approached. The screams of all the residents echoed through the room and the howls of the beast got closer and closer until-
What you expected to be sharp claws were instead replaced by a calloused hand spinning you around so that you were back to back with your savior. 
You knew who it was immediately just from the feel of his hand on your skin. Despite the interaction being so fleeting, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to forget the feeling. It was just so uniquely him.
Ji-su suddenly ran up to you just as Eun-yu reached you and together, they helped drag you over to the wall. They leaned you against it and Eun-yu immediately started putting pressure on the laceration on your side. You cried out at the pain but didn't resist it - partly because you were too weak to but also because you knew it would stop you from bleeding out. 
Hyun-su got stabbed multiple times by the monster and you watched it take him down, falling on top of him with screeching howls. The sight was horrifying and if you were strong enough you would have pushed Eun-yu and Ji-su away to rush over and help him. 
It went on for an excruciatingly long minute before both parties of the fight stopped moving. You held your breath - which hurt your side like crazy but you ignored it - and waited, praying he was okay. 
‘Let him be okay. You can take me away but please, please let him be okay...’ You pleaded in your head. 
He finally moved, pushing the monster off and away from him. The sigh of relief you let out was painful but worth it. Wasting no time, he stood up, putting nearly all of his weight on the spear he held and panting heavily. 
Everyone stared at him; some gazes thankful, some in shock, some in fear.
And then there was yours. Your gaze of such relief and affection and…
No… it couldn’t be… right?
You’d barely even known each other for more than two months, and the first month of that was just brief interactions that lasted probably much longer than they should have. 
But there was no other way you could describe this feeling. No other way to describe how your heart lit up just at the sound of his name. How fiercely protective you got whenever someone talked down on him. How you longed for his presence when he was gone. How you were always drawn back to him no matter how hard they (Eun-hyuk) tried to separate you. How you felt no fear for him no matter what state he was in. 
So that’s what it must be. 
Love. 
His eyes found yours and the small voids that absorbed all light like a black hole slowly retreated back into his pupils. His gaze traveled down from your eyes to where Eun-yu’s hands were still pressed into the wound on your side before he looked away. You could see the flash of guilt that covered his face when he saw the blood leaking from behind your shirt and immediately knew his mind was sent into the realm of self-blame. 
He turned, starting to limp in the direction of the arcade room no doubt. He used his spear as a crutch and you yearned to reach for him and help him, but all you could do was watch helplessly as he walked off.
You tugged on Eun-yu’s sleeve with a pleading look. “Help me.”
She nodded, allowing you to wrap an arm around her neck while keeping her hand on your wound and assisting you as you followed after the boy. 
Everyone else seemed to have the same idea as they got there before you, allowing you to watch as Hyun-su opened the door and stepped one foot through the frame before stopping at the sound of his name falling from Ji-eun’s mouth as she stepped to the front.
“Hyun-su,” she called. He stopped and slowly turned around to face her. “I’m sorry. I know we made… things more difficult for you.”
He just stood there watching her, his feelings of confusion and gratefulness at her apology plainly showing on his face. 
Eun-hyuk stepped up next, saying what you’d been begging him to since the beginning. “This time, we’ll let you choose.”
The two choices he had were evident despite Eun-hyuk’s lack of saying them aloud. 
Continue to spend his time in the arcade room, quarantining himself from everyone else.
Or:
Leave the arcade room and join the rest of the residents in their - as free as can be - free lives. 
He stared at the boy who’d just granted him the choice regarding his freedom before skimming his eyes along everyone else. They stopped on you for a moment longer than needed before he turned back to the door. You nearly let out a sob at what you thought would be him going back into the arcade room regardless of the choice given to him, but you were quickly relieved when he retrieved the foot placed inside the room and closed the door. Once he turned back around, you were barely able to give him a smile and sigh out in relief before you could feel yourself fading. 
“Fuck,” you said to yourself softly. Your arm started to slide from its place around Eun-yu despite her efforts to catch you and you fell to your knees before everything went black.
The last thing you remembered was the embrace of someone with soft, yet calloused, hands. 
~
taglist: @hyeon-yi @haowonbins @mythical-mushrooms13
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sugar-crash · 1 day
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🍬King Candy (Wreck-It Ralph) x (gn) Reader👑
(Beginning Relationship Pt. I Edition!)
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(I thought this song would be fitting considering King Candy’s voice is based on the vocal performance Ed Wynn did for the Mad Hatter… That and its… Nostalgic🔑 [I saw the animation meme culture rise and fall.] lol)
- So, as we all know, the more unpleasant parts of his personality (which could tie him to Turbo) are suppressed, and hidden, though they can still peak out when he’s feeling particularly malicious.
- He’s a slime, a real manipulative rat who’s so sure he can keep everyone in the dark, who takes it slow with you at first to try to maintain his hard work.
- There’s a clear wall between what he displays in front of others and how he is, just the way he likes it, but honestly— If you mean so much to him, you get a weird mix of the two (well, more than usual), a kind of sweet goofiness that’s followed up with a snide remark about being the most skilled in some specific topic.
- Again he’s not the best lover, though from his previous indiscretions he has learned to be more open to others feelings— But only for your sake, mostly cause he can’t stand anyone else besides you…. And Sour Bill sometimes, but he’s mostly the personification of a minimum wage worker.
- Spending time together after hours is a must, though he’s more understanding now than he was before, not demanding every moment of your time but relishing whenever you do.
- I think all that time alone before Sugar Rush got plugged in made him lonely, and less stubborn to admit that he wants that comfort from someone else.
- I don’t think it’s much of a far reach when I say maintaining the King Candy persona is something he is very fluid in, but it’s exhausting at times.
- When he gets that seldom time alone without any of his kingly duties he finds himself yearning for your comforting touch, that stubbornness making way as he makes Sour Bill retrieve you.
- I can see moments between the two of you to be on the tamer side, not as many arguments like Pre-RoadBlasters, little to none really, but there are these tense moments where you ask him something a little too close to home and he becomes stiff in your arms if only for a brief moment.
- As much as he wants to be, not only for himself but maybe even you— He isn’t perfect, he isn’t the person he tries so hard to be, that gleeful and peppy voice going flat the second he isn’t feeling it anymore.
- It becomes apparent the more you know him he’s far more serious than he lets on, puffing his chest up slightly when things don’t go his way and he has to play dirty, which he’s certainly no stranger to...
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- In comparison to himself when the arcade first ever opened, he’s certainly grown from that childish hatred, for better and for worse.
- He’s more affectionate for one, providing you with comfort fitting to how you are feeling at that moment, little compliments, and gestures of affection to quell your anger and anxiety in a matter of seconds.
- Quick to learn every little thing about you to make sure he’s able to relate to you, though his intentions with this information go back and forth.
- He wants everything on a silver platter, not only for himself but also for you, making the other subjects of Sugar Rush bend over backward for you, even when you object to all the attention.
- I think one of the ways he dotes on you in a way is date planning, various areas in Sugar Rush vary which can be very nice date spots… He seems like the picnic blanket and tea liker as King Candy, as stereotypical as that is lol.
- Though if that isn’t your style, he can always do dates at the castle, like baking— chatting the night away, it’s the simple things in life <3
- Even with his character growth he is far from a good person, which we all know and love for the most part. He’s fully aware that the things he does to bar you, Venallope, the Sugar Rush inhabitants, and even the arcade entirely is cruel, spiteful even. But what could he have done? Let himself fade into obscurity and be characterized after one of his biggest mistakes?
- No, no, not when he still has so much to provide— He’s a person, just like everyone else, better yet he was programmed to be better. Why should he stand aside and let the world spin without him? Why should he look at you from afar when he has every right to want you?
- That’s part of the reason why he’s so adamant about keeping his spot as the monarch of Sugar Rush, he’s the rightful ruler after all.
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(Ria ecfcreaqqhaqq jl ria chraphar cq hjrichg rj qsjll nr winr wcee n oachg wijqa nfocrcjh gpjwq uhtap tupaqq tj wiah ia garq icq 4ri sinhsa?)
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brodygold · 3 days
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Another Recruiter
I had just finished another grueling practice with the Golden Army. Sweat was dripping down my face and my legs felt like jelly, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of pride that welled up inside me. I had given everything I had on the field, just like every other day. That’s what it meant to wear the golden jersey—putting in the effort, showing up for the team. Being a part of something bigger than myself
As I was catching my breath, I saw Captain Richard walking toward me, his usual confident stride unmistakable. There was something about the way he carried himself that always demanded respect. He was a leader, through and through. I straightened up, quickly wiping my forehead with my arm.
"Brody," Richard called out as he approached, his voice steady. "You’ve been putting in a lot of work lately."
"Just doing my part, Cap," I replied, trying to downplay it, though my heart was racing. There was something in his tone—something I couldn’t quite place. It made me antsy in a good way.
Richard gave me a look that I’d come to recognize during my time on the team. He wasn’t one for empty praise. When he spoke, he meant it. "You’ve done more than your part. You've shown real commitment, not just on the pitch but off it too. You've got a good head on your shoulders, and that’s exactly the kind of person we need in leadership."
I blinked, trying to process his words. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?
"We’re going to need someone to help Scott with recruiting. It’s no small task, and he could use a good hand," Richard continued. "You’ve earned the chance, Brody. I’m making you assistant recruiter."
I stared at him for a moment, stunned. Assistant recruiter? Working alongside Scott, the British lad who had been our recruiter for a while now? It wasn’t a role I had ever expected to land, but hearing it from Captain Richard… it felt right. Being one of the first recruits, I’d been with the Golden Army long enough to know what we stood for, what we were building. And Scott, well, he could be a bit of a character, but we worked well together.
"Wow, Cap. I—thank you. I won’t let you down," I said, my voice almost shaking.
Richard clapped me on the shoulder, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "I know you won’t. You’ve already proven yourself. Now it’s time to bring that work ethic to the recruitment side. We need new blood, players who have what it takes to be part of this family."
As Richard walked away, I felt a sense of pride swell in my chest. But it was quickly followed by the reality of what this meant. I was now going to be working with Scott—Scott, with his sharp wit and easy-going British charm. He was the kind of guy who could talk to anyone, and he had a way of getting players to open up. I liked him, though we hadn’t worked all that closely before now.
Later that day, I found Scott leaning against the locker room door, arms crossed casually over his chest. He grinned when he saw me.
"Well, well, if it isn’t the new assistant recruiter!" His British accent rolled smoothly, and he gave me a mock salute. "Looks like you and I are going to be spending a lot more time together, bruv."
"Yeah, looks like it," I said with a laugh, still adjusting to the idea.
Scott pushed off the wall and walked over, slapping me on the back. "Don’t worry, Brody. We’ll make a good team. You’ve got the work ethic, I’ve got the charm. We’ll have this place crawling with new talent in no time."
He wasn’t wrong about the charm. Scott had a way of making even the toughest guys feel like they belonged, like they had a place in the Golden Army. And maybe that was part of the reason Richard had paired us up. Together, we could cover all the bases—hard work and heart, talent and drive.
"You up for it?" Scott asked, tilting his head, his playful grin still in place. "It’s not all glamorous, you know. Sometimes, it’s just long hours and trying to convince blokes that this is the best decision they’ll ever make."
"I’m up for it," I said without hesitation.
Scott raised an eyebrow. "That’s the spirit! Welcome to the recruitment squad, mate."
And just like that, my role in the Golden Army had changed. I wasn’t just another player anymore. I had a responsibility, a new way to contribute to the team I’d come to love. And I knew with Scott by my side, we were going to find some incredible talent to wear the golden jersey.
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deunmiu-dessie · 5 months
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"george, i will stand with you between the heavens and the earth. i will tell you where you are. do. you. love. me?"
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chuluoyi · 2 months
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𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓
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- zayne x reader
he is your husband and you are his wife. but of course you know the bitter truth—you will never be able to replace her.
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—angst, hurt/comfort, unrequited love, drunken sex, mentions of injury, blood, hunter!reader (not l&ds mc -> l&ds mc is zayne's late ex-girlfriend here), spoilers! from zayne’s bond story nostalgic sweetness
note: wc. 8k ! i've been having these bits and pieces scenarios for zayne in mind and then i thought what if i combined it all into one angst joyride? :)) tagging per request: @kissxcore @rjreins @i2s2m @tom-pls-fuck-me @yueyoonie @sanriosatoru
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07.15 p.m
Zayne would be getting off work soon. He had just finished an emergency surgery, and it had been exhausting. Now it was quite late.
“Dr. Zayne! Great job today!” Greyson exclaimed, suddenly strolling into his consultation room with a grin. “Want to grab dinner with us?”
Honestly, he was starving too. “Where?”
“Oh, you know, that new place that just opened nearby! They have the tastiest tiramisu, or so I’ve heard. C’mon, we’re inviting the nurses too!”
He knew he needed to head home soon, but fatigue and hunger blurred his thoughts at the mention of dessert.
“Alright.”
. . .
08.25 p.m
Getting together with the hospital staff was always nice. They were rowdy, but it was definitely a great way to unwind after a hard day.
The tiramisu was as great as Greyson said. Speaking of his assistant, he and Yvonne were having a blast. Other doctors were getting drunk. Zayne could only shake his head, and it suddenly dawned on him that he had been here quite a while.
It was only when he turned on his phone and saw the time that he realized, with sinking heart that—
He was supposed to meet you at six.
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If you were asked how you felt about your life now, you’d be hard-pressed to say you were completely content.
You were a stellar fighter in the Hunter Association, more than content with your job, and you had a good husband. To some, you had what they would call the perfect life.
The wife of the Dr. Zayne. True, it was a flattering title, yet unbeknownst to everyone, also a humbling one.
And the notion struck you once again when your husband of almost two years stood you up on your dinner date without so much as a notice.
“Miss... we’re about to close now...” The waitress approached your table for at least the third time, and you nodded sheepishly, finally finishing your meal.
You paid for it and left the restaurant. The chilly night air hit your skin, giving you goosebumps as you walked home. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. Granted, Zayne had a packed schedule, and you figured he might've had an urgent matter to attend to that he forgot to let you know.
Still... it hurts. Knowing you were not a priority in your husband’s eyes wasn’t a fun feeling.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket the moment you arrived at your shared home. Your husband’s name flashed on your screen. The time now was 08.40 p.m.
“Hello, Zayne?”
“Y/N?” Your husband’s voice sounded frantic. “Are you still at the restaurant? I’m going—”
“Ah, no need to. I’m going home.”
“I’ll pick you up then. Stay there—”
“I’ve already arrived.”
An awkward silence settled between you, and you could clearly hear the noise on the other end. Greyson’s laughter was unmistakable.
You forced a laugh, still trying to sound cheerful for him even when realizing that he had completely forgotten about you. “It’s totally fine, Zayne! Are you heading back?”
“Yeah...”
“Take care then. See you at home.”
You ended the call with a sigh, trying to shake off the sting in your heart. As you made your way upstairs to your bedroom, you passed by a large portrait on the wall, and a bittersweet sensation washed over you.
Your wedding photo. Both of you were smiling on what was the most wonderful day of your life. Zayne’s smile was reserved, but yours was radiant.
It is the most wonderful thing that has happened to you... but is it the same for him?
At that time, despite everything, you were convinced a lifetime of happiness awaited you, yet now... it got harder to fool yourself into believing it.
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Your marriage has always been lukewarm.
Zayne wasn’t an overly excited person, and you were his opposite—but try as you might, some things between you just didn’t work out. As a result, both of you tended to keep certain things to yourselves.
Most days, this didn't bother him. He valued his privacy, so the way things were suited him just fine. However, several days later, when Greyson approached him with a worried expression and a news, even Zayne had to draw the line.
“Dr. Zayne? Uh, how do I say this? I think I saw your wife being wheeled in earlier with the injured from the hunt zones raid…”
. . .
“Your husband is a doctor here. Why aren’t you calling him?”
Xavier, your fellow Deepspace Hunter who was partnered with you in this mission, questioned you with a hint of annoyance as he observed your pathetic state on the stretcher and crossed his arms. “Why do you have to bleed out in ER when you can get him?”
You winced, pressing the bloodied cloth against your stinging abdomen as you felt yourself growing faint. “He’s... a surgeon,” you panted. “He’s busy.”
Above all, you didn’t want Zayne to see you like this. You could already imagine his angry face, and that mental image alone made you recoil.
“What sort of husband is busy when his wife is injured?” Xavier raised an eyebrow. “Did you at least notify him?”
You shut your eyes, feeling a migraine coming.
“I will then.”
“No.”
“Y/N, you—”
“Shut up, Xavier—”
The curtain was suddenly pulled back, and you braced yourself for whoever had come to check on you next. To your surprise, the cloth in your hand was snatched away, and you felt your uniform being torn open with urgency.
When you opened your eyes, you barely made out your husband’s figure through your hazy vision. “…Zayne?”
His expression was stern, unforgiving even, as he started to disinfect your wound. Despite the tension, you couldn't deny the relief that washed over you. You knew you were in good hands, even if you had to face his fury later on.
Your consciousness slipped away not long after that.
. . .
The next time you woke up, you found yourself in a private room, with a nagging itch where you had been injured.
You groaned, your limbs stiff and heavy, and the room slowly came into focus—along with your husband's face.
"Zayne?" Your voice came out barely above a whisper. He stood pristine in his white coat and glasses, assessing you with a scrutinizing gaze.
"Your wound is, thankfully, shallow," he said flatly, his tone lacking any real concern. "You'll be discharged tonight. I'll take you home as soon as my shift is over."
"Ah..." You blinked several times to clear your head. "Good then. Sorry for showing up out of nowhere. Xavier and I were on a rescue mission, and I accidentally—"
He walked away before you could finish, the abruptness snapping you fully awake. He was furious, that much was clear.
"Ha ha..." You forced a laugh, fiddling with your fingers, trying to ease the awkward tension between you. "It doesn't hurt much, actually. You're right—I'm fine..."
Zayne shot you a sharp glance. "You passed out due to blood loss."
"This isn't the first time it has happened and nor will it be—"
"And it didn't even occur to you to inform me at all. I found out that my own wife was wounded because Greyson passed by the ER and saw you."
His words left you silent, caught red-handed, but your annoyance was reaching its limit. You had imagined how nice it would be if he panicked about you, showering you with care when he found out. But instead, Zayne chose to rebuke you the moment you woke up.
“I’m not a child,” you reasoned, keeping yourself calm. “I’m a hunter. This is nothing new, and you should understand that.”
“The least you could’ve done is to tell me—“
“Do you know why I didn’t? It’s because I know how you’ll react!”
“—and it would do you better to prioritize your safety and not rush headfirst into danger.”
“Believe me, I do but—!”
Suddenly, Zayne spun around to face you, his eyes blazing with fury as he raised his voice. “I’ve told you so many times already, you have to stay back, or you’ll end up—!”
He stopped abruptly, leaving his sentence hanging in the air, but right at that moment, you knew all too well who he meant, and what the implication was.
His, without a doubt, greatest love. His childhood friend, a hunter like yourself, someone he had vowed to save but succumbed to her illness before he could do so, died on arrival.
The irony was sharp. You had become everything she once was. You knew her well, too. When she passed, the entire Hunter Association mourned her loss. And more than that, on the night she died, you had been with him.
Looking back, you should have seen it coming. Still, it hit you like a splash of cold water. Your husband was still preoccupied with thoughts of his ex-girlfriend, and worse yet, he saw pieces of her in you.
And you suspected he had for a while—perhaps even, from the very beginning.
For a second there, not for the first time, you felt your heart shatter.
“I don’t have Protocore syndrome,” you stated, steeling yourself against the heartbreak. “My heart won't suddenly fail because I get injured. I’m not that weak.”
You turned away as Zayne refused to respond, missing his look of disdain as he stormed out of the room.
That was when your first tear fell.
Right from the start, you knew you had to brace yourself for this. You knew that eventually, this tragedy would overshadow your marriage. Because while Zayne might be your husband by law, deep down, his heart still belonged to someone else.
To her.
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You two are too much alike.
It wasn’t the first time he had noticed it. And it wouldn’t be the last.
On bad mornings, when his eyes were bleary and he hadn't had a good sleep, he would see her instead of you in your shared bed. And with that mistaken sight came a fleeting sense of relief... until his vision cleared and he remembered she was truly gone and it was you.
Zayne knew how wrong this was on so many levels. It was terribly unfair to you.
Still, his concern for you was genuine. Seeing you lying still on the stretcher brought back that very same nightmare, and really, he truly never wanted you to be hurt.
After his outburst and your clipped response, the two of you barely exchanged any words for the rest of the week. To make matters worse, he was sent on a business trip the following week, and all in all, you went two weeks hardly speaking to each other.
And before he knew it, her death anniversary was only a couple of days away.
. . .
"How much is this?"
"Ah, the bow is 50,000 Gold, sir!"
Inside the airport's souvenir shop, Zayne examined the intricate light blue and white bow clip. Made of tweed and adorned with small pearls, it looked nice.
He thought it'd suit you well.
"I'll get this then."
"Right away!"
As the clerk went to wrap the trinket, Zayne reflected on these past two weeks. A nagging feeling twisted in his gut as he thought about how curt he had been with you in text messages and how often you had left him on read.
Husband and wife shouldn't be this way. He wanted the unbearable air between you to end. Determined to resolve things, he planned to talk to you when he returned. He was on his way to the airport taxi when—
"Zayne!" He stopped in his tracks, recognizing the familiar voice, and turned around.
There you were, waiting by his car with a smile.
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It was never in you to stay angry for long. It was a blessing and a curse, really, because while you no longer wished to give your husband silent treatment, a part of you still felt conflicted.
"How was your trip?" you asked as you started the engine, pushing the events of the past two weeks to the back of your mind.
Zayne didn't immediately answer, and you felt his gaze on you as you drove the car. "It was okay."
You hummed in acknowledgement, and he followed up with, "How is your wound? Do you dress it daily?"
"Mm-hm. It's getting better."
"I'll have a look at it later."
"Sure."
Silence. Usually you would ramble to distract him, but now, even you weren’t sure if you should.
Then, he said, "You really didn’t have to pick me up. I could have made my way home on my own."
To that, you pasted on a smile. “You always pick me up whenever I have to go on business trips. It’s only fair I do the same for you, husband.”
Ah. Was it the wrong move? The word had slipped out so easily that you didn’t realize it until after you said it.
But to your surprise, Zayne let out a chuckle and played along. "Well, thank you then, wife. It certainly felt quite off without a certain someone the past week."
So, he actually likes having you around...? The thought made you almost giddy. Despite his usual taciturn and sarcastic demeanor, you knew he was genuine in his own way.
"Bet you missed me," you teased, grinning.
He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Are you sure it's not the other way around?"
"Nope. But I did miss getting new snowmen."
"...why do you like them so much? I've made plenty for you already."
"No particular reason. Snowman just kinda reminds me of you somehow."
The tension between you had melted away, and you felt a sense of relief. Beside you, even Zayne couldn’t hide his smile. For the rest of the drive home, you chatted like you used to.
When you arrived back at your shared home, he suddenly stopped and presented you with a little box. "I got you something."
"Huh?" you paused, bewildered, as he took your hand and placed the box in it.
"Open it."
With curiosity, you lifted the lid, and were surprised at the sight of a pretty bow clip inside. "Whoa, how cute..."
Zayne eyed you expectantly. "Do you like it?"
Your eyes lit up with delight, and a smile spread across your lips.
"Yes!" you beamed at him with zero hesitation, and in that moment, something struck a chord within him. Zayne had always thought you were easy on the eyes—
—but when you smiled like that, you were truly charming.
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"It's healing nicely."
You felt somewhat self-conscious as your husband examined your bare abdomen, where your injury was, as you lied on your bed. His hands, cool and practiced, tenderly removed your stitches.
It wasn't as if Zayne had never touched you. You two had been married for almost two years, and of course you had been intimate several times, but it wasn't as if you were a passionate couple to begin with—so you often found yourself flustered.
"Mm." Despite yourself, you squirmed. Noticing this, he looked up at you, his unfazed eyes meeting yours with a frown.
"Does it still hurt?"
"No, not really... It just feels as if you're tickling me."
He was positively unamused. "I'm not trying to tickle you."
"I know!"
Zayne wrapped your midsection securely with the bandage. When he was done, he let out a sigh and you felt like you had to show him your gratitude somehow.
“Thank you, Zayne…” you mumbled, avoiding eye contact. But in the next second, your heart skipped a beat as his hand rested gently on your head.
"You can thank me by being more careful next time." Your husband looked at you with the smallest of smile. "Your safety comes first, always remember that."
Without either of you realizing it, you both had tried to bury that argument from two weeks ago, yet it was still gnawing at you all the same. The thought that he too was bothered with it made you warm.
"Noted," you cheekily grinned. "If I'm not safe and sound, a certain iceman will get angry at me."
Zayne shot you an unimpressed look. “If you come to me injured again, I’ll start charging you fees.”
You let out a dramatic gasp. "How stingy! I'm your wife, not just some stranger!"
"A very uncooperative wife, you are."
You huffed, and he chuckled. You really thought all was well between you two now, until Zayne suddenly stood up and grabbed the car keys. “Well then, rest. I have to go.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to stop by the florist—”
And it hit you. In two days. The day everything ended three years ago.
Zayne seemed to realize it too, but you quickly masked your falling smile with a faux one. "O-oh, right..."
No matter how, it's still going to be an important day to him. You had nothing against it, really. Your husband's late girlfriend had once been your colleague too, and you mourned her just like everyone else did.
Still, even with that understanding, in your heart of hearts, it remains just as bitter.
You didn't want to, but you needed to find closure. You hoped that by doing this, it would finally put an end to all your insecurities.
"Let's go together, Zayne. I want to pay her a visit too."
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Two days later, you and Zayne, a bouquet of flowers in hand, stood before the grave bearing many colorful flowers and postcards.
You supposed you knew already, but seeing it firsthand, you realized just how deeply she was loved still. The outpouring of respect from the Hunter Association was evident in the tribute left behind.
"It's been a while," Zayne, dressed in his most formal black suit, said solemnly, his gaze fixed on the name etched into the pristine stone.
You watched as he knelt to place his flowers and then brought his hands together in prayer. You followed his lead, placing your own bouquet beside his.
What should you even say to her? Your mind raced with countless thoughts, but none felt right to voice before the woman who had so deeply captured your husband's heart.
In the end, when you sensed that Zayne had finished with his prayer, you decided to remain silent and rose with him.
. . .
“Does it get easier?” you asked out of curiosity afterwards. “Three years has passed already.”
Although Zayne wasn’t one for drinking, even the need won today. He didn’t meet your eyes as he sipped his wine, humming thoughtfully. “Somewhat. As they say, time heals.”
You two stopped by a fine restaurant after visiting the grave. The cemetery had been a two-hour drive from Linkon City, and now it was already evening.
“She loved jasmines,” you remarked, recalling the pot of them you once saw on her desk and the flowers overflowing at the grave earlier.
“She did.” The alcohol seemed to loosen his tongue as he continued, “She loved old popsicles and macarons too.”
“And you like them as well.”
“To be honest, I started liking them back when we were kids…” Zayne had this pained, faraway look in his eyes as he had another sip. “She cried over her melted popsicle and it got me to wonder if it was really that tasty...”
The idea that you had to compete with a dead woman for your husband’s affection left a bitter taste in your mouth. You felt like you had failed thoroughly as a woman.
Despite hating yourself for asking, you needed to know. “Do I help you… in any way at all?”
Zayne was clearly taken aback by the question. His sharp, gray eyes locked onto you, mind whirred as he tried to grasp your meaning.
“Y/N, you...”
It was foolish, you knew. But you waited with bated breath for his response, even when one wrong word could shatter your heart beyond repair. You were ready for any sort of unfavorable answer, but then—
“I... am glad it is you.”
His words made you look up, and you found yourself caught in his gaze. Zayne’s ashen eyes were steady, piercing into you.
“You were there on the hardest days. And ever since, you’ve always stayed by my side.” He held your gaze firmly, voice was thick with emotion you couldn’t quite name. “I’m grateful for that.”
And then, with a sincerity that pierced through every uncertainty, he added, “What I want to say is... I’m glad I married you, Y/N.”
You have loved him for so long. Since the days when you know he isn’t yours to love, until now.
Your heart swelled with so much warmth that tears brimmed in your eyes. His acknowledgment of your presence filled you with a profound sense of belonging you never knew you needed before.
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Was it the alcohol?
You suspected it might be, because in nearly two years of marriage, Zayne had never lost his control like this. As soon as the bedroom door was shut, he pushed you against the wall and devoured your lips hungrily.
“Mmph!” His hands gripped your arms while his lips and tongue pried yours open. The kiss was searing, almost forceful, with the faint bitterness of wine still lingering.
“Zay…ne…” you gasped between his kisses—teary, breathless, your voice trembling.
But your breathy grunts only seemed to spur him on. His dark eyes, clouded with lust, fixed on you as his hands slipped beneath your blouse, deftly unclasping your bra with a flick.
He is hot. Your husband was everything a woman desired in a man. Cool, handsome, blessed with hands that could do wonders—
In no time, he had you naked and wet before him, and with alarming speed, he too discarded his own suit and pants, throwing them away in flurry. And you could hardly believe what you were seeing next.
He spitted on his hand, ran it along his member—stroking himself with a practiced ease, never breaking eye contact with you. The next thing you knew, he yanked you into another burning kiss and made you topple on top of him—
“Ah!” his hands guided your hips with precision, positioning you and entering you. The instant he did, you whimpered at the sudden, sharp sting of pain.
“Does it hurt?” he asked almost in a growl when you clung to his shoulder with uneven breaths.
It was too sudden, and you hoped the discomfort would pass, so you timidly shook your head.
“If you don’t want this, tell me to stop.” Zayne tangled his fingers in your hair, turning your face to his. “Understand?”
There was always a distinct, almost commanding aura about him whenever the two of you were in your marital bed. Perhaps the way his voice sound lower, but it just hit different.
And you are a willing prey... whenever he becomes that beast.
He inched inside you slowly, making you moan with each instance. He was thick, warm, and taking him in was a challenge in itself. And when he finally sheathed himself fully, your nails had made its first scratch on his skin.
You felt full, and the way your womanhood stretched and clenched around him with each breathe you took made you dizzy. Panting, you finally met his gaze. Zayne’s silver eyes were still clouded with desire as he placed his hands firmly on your hips. Unable to resist, you reached out to caress his face.
"Hmm..." he subconsciously leaned into your touch, pressing his eyes shut together. "You smell nice," he huskily muttered.
Right this moment, all negative thoughts eluded you. It felt gratifying that your husband sought your touch like this as you towered over him.
And yet, despite that...
“Do you... finally see me now?” you asked, trailing your other hand down his toned chest and starting to grind against him. Zayne drew in a sharp breath and groaned, his fingers gripping your bum tighter.
Depending on his response, you would either find peace or face another heartbreak. You had placed your happiness on this pedestal more times than you could count, and it was a cross you had to bear.
But you never received your answer.
Your husband merely gazed up at you with a dangerous gleam. And oh, you could've sworn, this sight of Zayne eyeing you as if he were about to ruin you right then and there, would live-free in your mind for many days to come.
He then buried his face in your bosom, sucking on you with such fervor that your hands instinctively reached for his head to massage his scalp. The room was soon filled with your erotic groans and the squelching sounds from where your flesh were joined together— as he thrusted inside you over and over.
Right in this moment, you felt truly desired and wanted.
You are so happy. Incomparably so.
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At the crack of dawn, Zayne woke with a start.
The first thing he noticed was how spent he felt, his limbs stiff and a throbbing headache pulsing at the back of his head.
Then he turned to his side, and the sight that met him twisted his gut in such a way that snapped him fully awake—
You were beside him, barely dressed and still deeply asleep. Your hair was a mess, and love bites were scattered across your skin, some on your chest looking almost like bruises.
It dawned on him that he, too, wasn’t decent. A sudden coldness gripped him, though it wasn’t just the morning air.
Him and you... last night...
Yesterday marked the third year. He meant everything he said to you, but the fact that he did this, with you, on the day of her death...
There was... nothing wrong with what he had done. You were his wife, no one could condone him for what he instigated. Yet, it still made him shiver.
And to make it worse, his thoughts from last night echoed back with vengeance, and—
He suddenly feels so immensely guilty.
. . .
It was the best sleep you’d had all week.
When you woke, sunlight had seeped through the window, and you discovered yourself already in pajamas, tucked snugly under a blanket. Still groggy with a dull ache in your lower belly, you relished the lingering afterglow, sighing in pure contentment, until you noticed Zayne wasn’t beside you.
Where did he go? You wondered amidst your haze. Sluggish, you stumbled out of the bed, flinching when your foot met the cold floor.
You eventually found him downstairs, sipping coffee at the dining table still with messy hair. "Zayne?"
He glanced up at you and nodded. There was something different about him, a subtle shift you couldn’t quite place. As you took a seat across from him, you hesitated, unsure of what to say.
Before you could find the right words though, he spoke first.
"I'm... sorry," he said, his tone laced with regret, causing a sharp pang of unease inside you.
"What?" you stared at him, feeling small and unsettled. "What are you sorry for?" you questioned as you gripped the hem of your shirt.
And then came the killing blow—
"Last night," Zayne muttered, avoiding your gaze. "I wasn’t in the right frame of mind. It was a mistake."
Mistake. The word echoed in your mind, but it was still hard to grasp its full weight.
"How was that—" you faltered, trembling, as the realization hit you like a truck and you gasped in disbelief. "Oh..."
Her. Again, and again, and again! Even when he was married to you, even when you were the one next to him each and everyday— even so!
Your husband considers that a night spent with you—his wife—a mistake!
The last of your patience snapped, as you broke down in sobs before him. "You're the worst!" you screamed at him amidst your mournful tears.
Zayne seemed taken aback at your outburst, his eyes wide. "Y/N, wait, you don't—"
"Screw you!" But you were beyond explanations at this point. You fled back to your bedroom. Zayne followed you suit, but you slammed the door in his face and locked it. As you collapsed onto the floor, the realization hit you with full force.
No matter what you did, you would always come second—or not at all.
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The fracture in your marriage was undeniable.
Things had changed. Your home felt colder, and the tension was so stifling that you sometimes spent the night at the Hunter Association’s dorm just to escape it.
Zayne initially tried to reach out, but you were unwilling to listen, and eventually, he gave up. Before long, nearly a month had passed with this strain in the air.
You threw yourself into more rescue operations, using work as a distraction from the turmoil that lingered in your mind. Despite your best efforts to distract yourself, the unresolved thoughts and feelings clung to you.
"Xavier, am I lacking as a woman?"
Your frequent partner these days cracked open an eye despite his attempt to nap before today’s rescue mission. "What...?"
"No, forget it."
Things couldn't go like this forever. It was obvious by now—as long as he couldn’t let go of his past and you couldn’t accept him as he was, this marriage couldn't be saved.
Just as you headed towards the printer in the room, Xavier responded. "You talk a lot, eat a lot, and always bothering me when I'm about to sleep..."
You shot him an irked glance, disbelief evident on your face. "Hey!"
"But—" his clear voice cut through the air as he turned to you with half-lidded eyes. "You're exceptionally kind. If anyone can't appreciate that, then it's their loss."
At that moment, the ice inside your chest melted. To know that your own co-worker thought that kindly of you gave you a little boost of confidence.
But then Xavier added, "Sometimes you're stupid too. It's funny to watch."
"—?! You're so mean!"
A subtle smile curved on his lips as he turned to his side, ready to resume his nap. "Anyway, what are you printing?"
You feigned a huff as you gathered the papers and brought them to your desk. "Just something I need to submit when necessary."
A part of you wasn’t fully committed to it, of course—it was just that your emotions had no proper outlet even until now. As you pushed the drawer shut, a wave of bitterness washed over you as you reread the title on the blank form:
Petition for Divorce.
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Zayne genuinely wanted to treat you well.
You were a nice girl. Too nice even. From the moment he laid his eyes on you some years ago, as a friend of a friend, he knew you were nothing but kind and cheery.
He still remembered that morning vividly: the hurt on your face, the tears welling up in your eyes, and then you breaking into inconsolable sobs. That sight inflicted something in him—it felt as though his own heart had been split in two.
Believe it or not, he cherished you too.
That night, even though he didn’t show it, he was still mourning her. When alcohol took over his mind and he saw you, you seemed like a perfect escape. He thought that even if he forced himself on you, there would be no consequences.
He hated that he had thought that way. He hated that how, in the end, you had become a means of relief for him.
Now you couldn't even look him in the eye, and Zayne didn't want to risk trying to coax you further. You were angry with him and rightly so, but when you ignored him and went home late more often, he was worried.
It was what drove him to volunteer for the rescue mission. When he saw your name on the hunter list, he felt compelled to make sure you were okay.
. . .
It was strange to see you on duty.
With your hunter uniform and your hair tied up, you were the picture of a very capable hunter. Zayne found himself unexpectedly following your movements as you came and went.
"Dr. Zayne, are you checking your wife out?" the EMT next to him teased with a grin. "Well, when you have a pretty wife such as Y/N, of course..."
He cleared his throat and the EMT giggled as he sauntered away.
So, you were also considered attractive here. Of course you were. Zayne knew it, but he just didn't expect that anyone here would blurt it out so openly.
But that wasn't the most surprising of all—
"Xavier, shush!" you playfully punched the blonde man next to you in the chest, your broad smile lighting up the moment. The two of you whispered closely, and Zayne found himself feeling uncomfortable, like being prickled by several needles.
He has never made you laugh so openly like that. The nagging feeling inside him grew stronger as he watched you—even if it was just in a platonic sense—with another man. It stirred something within him, making him want to pull that blonde aside, give him a word or two, and overthrow him altogether.
Amidst the growing storm inside him, you suddenly turned sideways and caught his eye, and Zayne could've sworn... he felt time stopped at that moment.
It was so candid that it took his breath away. The way your earnest, unclouded eyes met his. How natural you were while loading your gun...
Ah, they were right. His wife was exceptionally pretty.
But before he could fully appreciate it, you broke the eye contact and turned away, pretending as if you hadn’t seen him at all.
Zayne wondered then, why did he feel so hurt all of a sudden?
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Battlefields were always a place of chaos, and Zayne was no stranger to it.
He was on standby at the makeshift hospital as patients surged in, continuously aiding first-aid. Some were hunters on duty, and his heart was in his throat the entire time, anxiously hoping you wouldn’t be among them.
"Doc... it still hurts," a little girl sniffled right after Zayne wrapped her injured arm with the gauze. Despite the anxiety, seeing this tearful girl softened his frown.
"It's just going to take a while, hmm?" he patted the kid in the head. "It's going to be better soon enough."
"My mom is still inside..." she said, her eyes welling up with tears. "Doc, will they get her out?"
Zayne hesitated, his thoughts briefly drifting to you. He managed a reassuring smile. "Don’t worry, they’ll—"
Crash! —all of a sudden, a loud explosion shook the hospital, the sound echoing through the chaos. The little girl clung to his coat in fear.
"Call for retreat!" someone suddenly shouted from outside. "Alert all personnel immediately!"
Retreat. The thought that you might be safe soon brought him a sense of relief. He turned to the girl, trying to keep his composure.
"Look, the hunters are retreating, it means most are already evacuated." Zayne managed a reassuring smile. "Stay here. I'll help you find her later, okay?"
He went to the survivors' camp outside, attending to the wounded and keeping a vigilant eye on each returning hunter. Even until 30 minutes later, he still hadn't seen you. Thinking to contact you, he reached out for his phone.
"Who hasn't gotten out?" Jenna, your team leader, demanded the receiver with a stern voice, standing tall several feet away from the camp, and Zayne overheard the snippets of her conversation.
A frantic voice responded, "Xavier is still inside! Y/N too!"
"Those two! They are always—!"
What?
Zayne almost dropped his phone when he heard your name. Terror gripped him instantly, and then suddenly, again, it was his greatest nightmare realized.
You are still inside. You could be hurt. It was possible you had no means to get out of there.
He didn’t register letting go of his coat or crossing the police line—all that mattered was getting to you. He sprinted away, ignoring the shouts of those trying to stop him.
No. Not again!
Debris flew everywhere, and the roars of Wanderers grew louder as he neared the building wreckage. As a splinter was about to hit him, ice shot through his palms, creating a barrier that shattered it.
"Y/N!" he shouted your name, his voice cracking with panic. "Where are you?!"
All he could think about was the memory of you bleeding out in the ER. Zayne never wanted to see that again. Should anything happen to you now...
He didn't want you to be hurt. He hated seeing you cry. For the past weeks, it had torn him apart to see you so unhappy. He wanted to be the one who made you smile, the one you looked at with love.
The realization washed over him like a tidal wave. Yet it wasn’t an epiphany but a simple truth he had always known but never fully grasped until now.
If he lost you now, it'd destroy him.
He continued screaming your name over and over. And then, after turning several turns, he finally saw you, standing alone in the middle of the wreckage—
You turned to him in surprise when you heard your name in his shout, and were rooted to the spot, in disbelief that your husband was right before you.
Zayne felt a wave of relief wash over him, until a hollow croak from above caught his attention. He squinted—
A glass panel had crumbled and was falling directly towards you.
A sense of dread so great overwhelmed him, a lump formed in his throat, and the smoke made it hard to breathe. He sprinted forward, and with everything he had, he pushed you out the way.
The next thing he knew, everything went pitch black.
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"Zayne? Zayne!"
A memory flashed in his mind's eye. The one memory he wished he didn't have to relive ever again.
Sitting on the deserted hospital bench, his eyes were vacant. Utter hollowness choked him, leaving him motionless. It was over. There was no blood on his hands, yet it felt as if there were.
Your grip on his shoulder was tight, shaking him. "Zayne, snap out of it!" and only then he brought himself to meet your eyes.
"She died." That was the only thing he could mutter, pain woven in each word. "She really died."
Your eyes widened in horror, an inaudible gasp left your lips. "Oh..."
He didn't really know what happened next, but he remembered the warmth from when you pulled him to your arms, when sobs wracked his body as he thought the world was ending.
Since then, you have always been there.
And subconsciously, he may have regarded you as his lifeline.
. . .
Another memory.
"Are you awake...?"
His mind was hazy, but he recognized your voice. He blearily opened his eyes to find you placing a cool compress on his forehead.
"Who would have thought the great Dr. Zayne can get a fever?" you said with a soft laugh, patting his hair. "Don’t worry about me. Go back to sleep."
You came to see him. He remembered telling you not to. But you still did, and the fact thawed the ice in his heart.
Just as you were about to leave, his hand reached out and pulled you closer. "Don’t go."
"Are you trying to make me catch your cold too?" you teased with a soft laugh.
"Hmph. Who told you to come here...?"
"Ah, so you're whiny when you're not feeling well," you observed with a smile. "Okay, I'll stay! But only if you agree to nurse me if I catch your cold!"
You were noisy, but endearingly so.
. . .
"Don't pay her any mind," you fidgeted on your seat, a frown on your face. "My mom always does that."
There was never any talk about the nature your relationship between the two of you, but it was clear to everyone nevertheless. You were always around him, and he seemed to enjoy your company just as much.
And not for the first time, your mother pushed him towards marriage with you.
"People are always getting the wrong idea," you grumbled. "Sorry, Zayne..." you lowered your head, seemingly in regret.
He was puzzled, because to him, it wasn't necessarily false. All things you did together lead to this.
"What if it isn't a wrong idea at all?"
You looked at him with slight surprise. "Huh...?"
Your presence was a gift. That tragedy was devastating, but having you constantly by his side made it bearable. He was fond of you, and the thought that if it's you, then surely...
In this memory, he was more sure than ever. What he said then, it came from the truest place in his heart.
"What if I told you... as of right now, I can't imagine being with anyone but you?"
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The side of his head was throbbing with pain. Everything hurt, the hard asphalt was bruising his face as the headache set in. He could smell the scent of blood and sweat, but more than that—
"Zayne! Ah, hah— Please, please! No!"
Your voice, choked with tears, blared in his ears as you desperately shook him. You sounded so heartbroken, so utterly panicked, and your voice gradually pulled him back to consciousness.
Opening his eyes took tremendous effort. At first, everything was a blur, but then it came into focus—the sight of you disheveled, smeared with soot, with tears streaming down your face. But still you— the woman he had married two years ago.
Yet his heart lurched. You're crying again... why is it that whenever with me, you're always crying?
"Are you... alright?" he rasped, lifting his hand to touch your face.
"Why did you—" You were startled by his question, your gaze fixed on the blood pooling on the side of his face. "Your head is bleeding!"
Ah, so you're fine. The sheer knowledge brought him relief, a faint smile forming at his lips. "I'm glad..."
"I'll help you get back! Hold onto me—" you said after brushing away your tears, lifting him up and draping his arm around your shoulder. "Can you walk?"
"I'm... fine..."
"You're not!" you refuted harshly, voice trembling. "You have to go back!"
You made him lean on you as you made your way back to the makeshift hospital, each step accompanied by your sniffles as you supported his waist.
Zayne glanced at you, feeling a warmth in his chest despite the migraine. "D-Don't cry... I'll be fine."
"You're an idiot!" you choked out, struggling to hold back your tears. "Why did you even come out here?"
"I... have to find you. They said you haven't returned."
"There are still civilians inside! I'll return eventually!"
"I can’t wait for that. I... have to know you're safe."
His response only fueled your frustration. "You don't have to—!"
"You are my wife—" he snapped, turning to you sharply, his eyes flashing with anger. "How can I not worry— for you?"
The forceful tone in his voice went straight to the most tender part of your heart. It really struck you at that moment that he had come out here for you, that his concern for you was that profound.
And that after all these weeks, he still keeps you in his thoughts.
He had pushed you out of the way, even at the cost of himself, barely missing the fallen billboard in that violent crash. If he was in the wrong position, he could've lost his life.
You stared at him, tears glossing your eyes.
"That's enough... Don't cry again." Zayne reached out to wipe your cheeks. His hands, however, were smeared with his own blood, leaving streaks on your face. "Ah... I got blood on you..."
But in that moment, you couldn’t care less. There was this indescribable sting of grief, but also paired with a sense of relief so great in your chest the very second you realize that now, he sees you.
You threw yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly as you sobbed, calling out to him in broken voice. “Z-Zayne...!”
“Why are you crying again...?” he let out a resigned sigh, but still embraced you regardless. “What a crybaby...”
You buried your face deeper into him, shaking uncontrollably. “You... saved me...” you managed to say amidst torrent of tears. “Y-You... got hurt...”
“I’ll be fine,” he retorted in your ear albeit in a hoarse voice, holding you close, even as blood trickled down the side of his face. “And I’d do it again. I refuse to see you hurt.”
You cried harder, and he pulled you tighter, his chest aching at the sight of you so inconsolable. And in that moment, he made the decision right then and there.
He will protect you so long as time will allow him to.
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It was as if the invisible wall between you had crumbled to dust after that incident. You stayed by Zayne's side night and day, monitoring his condition.
And one night, several days later...
"Here, don't move..."
You carefully dressed the wound on Zayne's temple, sitting close beside him. He quietly observed your worried eyes and trembling fingers without a word.
"You even need stitches..." you lamented, biting your lip as you wrapped the bandage around his head. Tears pricked your eyes, overwhelmed by the concern you were pouring into the task.
"I'm telling you, I'm fine," he gruffly insisted in an attempt to erase the sadness from your face. He felt the delicate, almost hesitant touch of your fingers on his face. "It'll heal with time."
Even as he said that, a part of you was still troubled at the sight of the wound on his head and cheekbone. No matter what he said, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was somehow your fault.
"I'm done. Now go rest," you said softly, your voice tinged with bitterness after tying the gauze. You rose to put the kit away, but even after you finished, Zayne remained upright on the bed, so you leveled a frown at him.
"What, why aren't you— Ah!"
Before you knew it, he pulled you by the arm, and you tumbled into his chest in surprise. "What are you doing?!" you yelled at him, clinging to his shoulder and looking up at him with ire. "You could've hit your head!"
He looked down at you with a flat expression, or is that a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes? “Can't a husband cuddle his wife?”
You blinked dumbly, caught off-guard. “Yes, you can, but...”
His arms then enveloped you, fitting you on his chest and he sighed against your hair. “Then there’s nothing wrong with it. Let’s just stay like this for now.”
And so, that was how he decided to sleep throughout the night—with you on top of him, held close. You felt self-conscious as Zayne had never initiated this closeness with you since that night.
"Are you sure you want to sleep this way?" you wriggled a bit in his grasp.
He draped an arm around your waist, pressing his eyes shut. "Mm-hm."
"You..." A part of you recoiled at the vulnerability but decided to ask anyway. "Won't this be… a mistake...?"
That caught his attention, as Zayne's eyes fluttered open. He looked down at you, who avoided his gaze with a pout and a torn expression, making yourself small in his embrace.
It dawned on him then that this persisting issue in your marriage was thoroughly his fault. His past was something he could never—and would never—trade for anything, but right now, you were that sense of peace that grounded him.
At one point, he has to let it go. These feelings inside him… they drive him to.
He softened, his gaze full of understanding as he gently brushed your hair back. "No," he said quietly, his voice tender. "We’ve come too far for it to be one."
Your clear, innocent eyes reluctantly met his, and at that moment something akin to clarity resonated within him.
He once thought nothing could ever mend the hollowness in his heart. And once, he indeed hoped that being with you would provide some form of relief or replace what he had lost.
But right now, feeling how vulnerable you were in his arms like this, he understood that you were not, and could never be, a replacement for anything else. Even before he realized it himself, what he felt for you was something entirely different— something dear that had grown and evolved into a genuine affection different from what he had felt for anyone else before.
Those times spent with you, wanting to protect you... Now that he reflected on it, it was never about filling a void, after all.
“I... want to treasure you better.”
Oh. Your heart thumped loudly as those words left his lips, warmth spreading through your entire being. Overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice, you clung to his chest, feeling a surge of love and a profound sense of being freed from the chains of insecurity that had taken you hostage all these years.
Most precious. Zayne smiled at you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.
“This time for sure... I will.”
And at last... he could say it without any lingering guilt.
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yawnderu · 10 months
Text
Currently thinking about neighbor!Simon with a sweet thing who keeps shamelessly flirting with him.
Ghost, the soldier who has been basing his life in self-control and discipline, knocked down a peg or two by his younger neighbor. He doesn't even respond to the flirting, simply replying with a grunt or a "thanks" so quiet you can barely even hear it before he disappears into his house.
Neighbor!Simon, who initially moved to your quiet neighborhood for some peace and quiet— and he gets just that, with one glaring exception.
Neighbor!Simon, who is forced to listen to your moans and whines as you bounce up and down a dildo, filthy nonsense escaping your lips whenever it hits a sensitive spot.
Neighbor!Simon, who seemed amused about it at first and ignored it, but after a few times started feeling his jeans tighten up.
Neighbor!Simon, who cups his throbbing boner over his jeans, trying his best to stop himself from jerking off, yet your whiny moans are taking away any semblance of self-respect he has.
Neighbor!Simon, who timed his strokes with the sounds of your squelching cunt, imagining it's him going in and out of you.
Neighbor!Simon, who pathetically came all over his stomach when you moaned out his name, filthy and overly loud words leaving your lips because you know he can hear you.
Neighbor!Simon, who since then was less of a Ghost in his own neighborhood, actually trying to reply to your attempts at making conversation with him.
Neighbor!Simon, who told you one of his awful dad jokes just to hear the loudest sigh ever, the corners of his lips threatening to tug up at your reaction.
Neighbor!Simon, who eventually started tagging along for anything you did— Grocery shopping? Paying bills? Going to the park? Shopping? He's coming with you, claiming there's lots of creeps around.
Neighbor!Simon, who accepted your offers for dinner, looking at you moving around the kitchen and helping you, imagining you're his pretty little wife.
Neighbor!Simon, who got enough courage to kiss you after being 100% sure you were interested in him.
Neighbor!Simon, who couldn't keep the surprise from showing on his face when during one of your make out sessions, you took him to your bedroom.
Neighbor!Simon, who was a groaning mess underneath you as you rode him, calloused hands holding onto your hips with a bruising grip.
'' 'S what you wanted all along, love?'' He manages to grunt out between his deep groans and moans, hypnotized by the way your tits bounce while your tight cunt takes all of him.
''Since I first saw you.'' You reply with honesty, leg muscles tired from riding him, but his thick cock feels way too good to even think about stopping.
''Good girl.'' He praises, eyes closing as his hips start to thrust up, meeting you halfway while you bounce on his cock, angling up your ass so he hits a more sensitive spot that has you moaning on top of him, his grip on your hips going to your ass while he moves your smaller body up and down his cock, thrusts getting rougher while you finally collapse on top of him.
''Cum inside.'' His hips falter for a moment as he looks at you with raised eyebrows, your hushed confirmation of being on birth control enough to keep him going even harder, driving himself into your cunt at an unlawful pace, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he thrusted deeply, the room filled with the smell of sex, walls bouncing with the sounds of your combined desperate moans as he shoved himself as deep as he could, filling your womb with his thick, fertile cum. It doesn't matter if you're on birth control, his seed is much stronger.
Husband!Simon, who got to come home from deployment to his missus, stomach swollen with his baby.
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ciaoteamo · 6 months
Text
Milk and Water (Pt. I)
pairings: doppelgänger!Milkman x fem!Reader
summary: One of the newest residents’ very first doppelgänger comes in, trying to sway you into to letting them in. Will you..?
pt.II
Tumblr media
art credit (twt: loafuu_chii)
warning: 18+ content
“…what’s the story behind your um… ears(?)” You ask the doppelgänger before you. It was a clone of one of your favorite neighbors actually, her name was Maria.
A woman around your age that you became really close friends with over the few months of you working here.
“@&! !$?&” The doppelgänger let out a series of sounds.
“right, so give me one second” You press the bright red button next to the window and the steel blinds shut with a blaring alarm sound.
You call D.D.D. and they clean up their mess per usual. You once again, you were just thankful you didn’t have to work on that side of the glass.
You check your wrist watch, and happily sigh at the fact that you only had one more hour left to work.
“ mmm, someone’s eager to go home i see” A familiar voice speaks up.
“oh, Mr. Francis” You give the man a polite grin. He gave you a sly one in return. You knew it wasn’t him off the bat. Francis was usually shy towards you, making you want to tease him into blushing whenever you saw him.
Well, you suppose you could kill two birds with one stone. Flirt with the doppelgänger of your crush, and have some entertainment.
“how are you pretty girl” He asks, sliding an I.D. and sheet through the slot.
You examine the documents and identification and beam a smile up at him.
“the date on the I.D. is a little expired hun” You declare. He lets out a small chuckle and leans a little toward the glass.
“mmm, been busy with the milk business, love. must’ve slipped my mind to renew it” He replied. His eyes were low but he still held his sly grin. You leaned back in your chair, with a bored look on your face.
“you’re not like my Francis” You huff and tilt your head with a disappointed look.
His grin faltered and he stepped closer. His breathing had quickened a bit and he took off his hat. “who knows, i could be better” He suggests.
Now that his confidence had depleted a little, you were growing bored of him. You checked the time again and you had 45 minutes left.
“well i’ve gotta get you moving now. it was nice to see such a handsome face though, so thank you” You beam and reach for the button
“you don’t want to do this, trust me” He states with a warning tone. This wasn’t unusual, getting threats after realizing they’re doppelgängers, but being that this one was this aware… they must be evolving.
“and why would i trust you?” You ask out of curiosity.
“i mean look at me” He smirks, one arm leaned against the top of the window. His irises turned from their chocolate brown and into an empty pure white.
“hm” You nod and press the button.
“(Y/N)!” He roared with what you assume was his fist banging the glass.
You call D.D.D. and wait for them to clean their mess, again.
The steel blind begins to lift and you sit back in your seat, checking your watch again but noticed the new pink lighting that shone in.
You furrow your eyebrows and look up in horror as you see blood streaks on the window in thick, and dripping amounts. You jump out of your chair and put your back against the wall.
About 5 D.D.D. workers were piled up, bloody and battered in the corner of the room, and there the doppelgänger was.
Staring at you.
His eyes were low, his shirt was torn, revealing his pecs and the start of his abdomen. He was panting with his (surprisingly still) neat hair and an almost psychotic expression.
“oh no…” He starts with a laugh, still breathing heavily.
“what did you do..?” You cover your mouth with your hand.
“it’s what you did. you got me all riled up.”
He looks down for a brief moment and you swear you hear a zip. He holds his tie and the end of his tattered shirt in his mouth and looks up at you with knitted eyebrows.
His breath fogging up the window as he asks you. Looking like a poor starving puppy. “will you let me in now…? I need your help…” He slightly groaned.
“…what. the. fuck.”
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