#and then she says 'okay back to your room' and he's just like 'as you wish' as the princess bride reference

[gojoest]

FIRST WORD — girl dad!gojo satoru

girl dad satoru, established relationship (you’re married, it is indicated that you have two other kids besides the little one that appears in this drabble), nanami cameo, suggestive credits at the end (breeding hinted, just to be safe), sry this lowkey sucks + not proofread, i typed it out in 10 mins but i hope you enjoy!

satoru is trying really hard to get his little daughter to say “papa”, but oh well

“come on, my life — say it”

satoru, crouched down before the baby chair where his little daughter is sitting, a picture of his face in one hand while the other alternates between pointing at the photo and then at his face, slowly repeats, over and over, with utmost perseverance and patience, the first word he wishes his little one would utter—

“pa-pa”, he carefully speaks, syllable by syllable. “pa-pa”, and again. “come on, baby — at least you don’t betray me, i know you’re papa’s girl — come on now, say it”, he pleads.

this has been going on for the past few weeks.

your entire house currently looks like the room of a teenager where it’s posters on the walls and little trinkets on the shelves, courtesy of heavy hyperfixations. but instead of posters and trinkets it’s your husband’s face, everywhere. kitchen, living room, hallways, your baby’s room — every-single-where and every-single-surface and wall has the photograph of your husband’s face on it. he even purchased custom-made plushies and toys of himself, some of which are hanging from the musical baby mobile above your daughter’s crib — but instead of music it’s his voice, teaching his toddler through made-up songs how to say ‘papa’.

“satoru, don’t you think this is a little bit, um— “, you once brought up, pausing to clear your throat, trying your best to sound softer while you say this. knowing how sensitive he is about the matter, and how devoted to have this innocuous win — “…too much? hm, love? it’s like you’re… brainwashing the baby…”

lips immediately pursed, satoru pouted under his nose — “easy for you to say, our two other kids said ‘mama’ first — effortlessly, at that. let me have this one at least”

okay, you shrugged and backed off.

and this morning, as you sipped on your coffee, you silently watched your husband in the kitchen — kneeled down before the baby chair, going about his educational routine.

after he was done with the photos, he took your daughter’s hand and pressed her fingers on his lips, while he kept repeating the word ‘papa’. he said that this method allows the baby to see the way your mouth moves as you speak but also hear and feel the sound all at the same time. (he sure has read a lot of things on the internet)

but your little one remained silent, only giggling here and there as she poked around her father’s face, completely refusing to cooperate with him despite his desperate attempts.

it is an endearing sight, really. part of you felt pity for your husband, you cannot lie. he was trying so hard, and for what...

all of a sudden,

the doorbell rings.

“i’ll take it”, you quickly pad over to open the door.

it’s nanami — dropping by with some baked treats for the kids, as he often does. your children love him a lot. during dinner gatherings he always sneaks away to read them bedtime stories. even though he doesn’t look like the type on the surface, he sure has a soft spot for children. and, truth be told, they are all naturally drawn to him as well. maybe it’s his calm demeanor and the sense of safety he brings along with his presence.

“ah, thank you — these look so delicious, i am sure the kids will die for a bite”, you chime, as you guide him into the kitchen.

“oh— nanami, it’s you”, satoru casually points out without even turning his head to greet him, his eyes glued on his little daughter… who seems to be looking elsewhere, past her father…

…at nanami.

a bit bothered by that, satoru shifts a little bit to the side, to block the view — to, once again, be the main focus in his daughter’s eyes. but, alas…

she tilts her head, googly eyes glancing at the blond man behind her father.

she opens her mouth, a giggle first escapes, and then—

“na-na—”, she pauses… “—mi” — a beam of laughter and her hands reaching forward, pointing at nanami.

silence in the kitchen befalls.

you cover your mouth with a hand, trying to prevent yourself from bursting into laughter. it’s tragic but funny at the same time, and you know — in just a few seconds the real baby in this room will not be your daughter.

“nanami”, satoru slowly stands up, shoulders hanging low and voice — monotone and stern. “get out”

p.s.: satoru makes a scene. he is absolutely devastated. you have to drag him away and pick up the pieces and calm him down. and, of course, he thinks — the only way to make things better is to give him another child. a new opportunity…and you need to get down to business, now. while nanami is babysitting downstairs.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

I really loved your career day fic and I was wondering if you could do a Shut up mom fic with the same lineup with nanami tho if you write for him🥺 👉👈

Shut up, Mom!

Tags: teeth rotting fluff, mostly crack, cursing, jjk men as dads / fem!reader

An: I would be delighted to write this anon :) my requests are open, loves. If you want me to write a specific idea, definitely ask and I’ll try to deliver on it! also, if anyone wants to be on a taglist please let me know. So, I gave Sukuna a kid in this one because I didn’t really see Yuji calling you mom or him dad. Yuji calls you two unc and auntie :)

SATORU • SUGURU • TOJI • SUKUNA • NANAMI

SATORU

“Aoi, did you take out the trash?” You ask your nine-year-old son while trying not to giggle. Aoi has recently discovered pranks, and he suggested playing one on Satoru. You couldn’t help but think that was an amazing idea.

Your husband was leisurely sitting on the couch, playing a game on the console he and your son shared. He was able to see you from his peripheral vision while you and Aoi were in the dining room. He didn’t seem to be too intrigued by the conversation, but Satoru is a chronic eavesdropper. He can’t help it with his technique and all.

“No, mom. Why can’t you do it?” Aoi plays his role perfectly, even throwing in an annoyed groan at you. Gojo cut his eyes towards you two, but he stayed silent for a moment. He knew this was your battle to face, and he wasn’t usually the disciplinary parent anyways.

“Because I told you to do it, Aoi. It’s your chore.” You say, putting on a serious voice as you would if he had really been sassing off to you.

“Ugh. Shut up, mom!” Aoi yells with a dramatic eye roll.

Immediately, you hear the game console cut off. It seems like you two had garnered Satoru’s attention. Footsteps carry into the dining room, and your all too tall husband leans against the doorframe.

Aoi sees his father, and his eyes widen. Your little actor. He then tries to walk off, but Satoru easily put his hand out against Aoi’s chest, preventing him from going anywhere.

“Woah, woah, woah, there little man. Who do you think you’re talking to there?” He interjects as his hands slowly unwrap his bindings from around his eyes, letting you know that he’s about to get serious.

“She’s getting on my nerves, dad!” Aoi continues to play the role, even though you can tell that he’s scared shitless.

“Hey, look at me.” Satoru says as he bends his knees to be eye level with Aoi. Your son complies with his dad’s order. “I don’t give a shit, okay? Never, and I mean, never tell your mother to shut up unless you intend on fighting me afterwards. She says to take out the trash, you say yes and take out the trash. Do you understand me?” Satoru says as he holds his son’s shoulders, squeezing them a bit so Aoi knows he’s not fooling around.

“Because I don’t think you want to fight me, do you?” Satoru questions. His blue eyes beam in the light, making your son nervously sweat.

“Baby, it’s just a prank.” You quickly interject with a laugh as you gently nudge your husband away from your son.

“Yeah dad, I was just acting!!” Aoi’s nervous gaze flutters into an adorable smile.

Satoru rolls his eyes and playfully laughs along. “You two are too silly, makin’ me turn off my game for this.” He shakes his head as he wraps his eyes back up.

“You were like gonna hollow purple me!” Aoi shouts with an excited laugh, and he reenacts Satoru’s cursed technique.

“Yeah, I love your mom a little too much.” Satoru responds with a grin up towards your direction.

SUGURU

Mimiko and Nanako are coming into their teen years, and recently, they’ve been obsessed with the idea of TikTok. After seeing the “shut up mom” prank all over, they knew that they had to play it on Suguru.

You, of course, agreed to help them pull off their little shenanigan.

“You two are not going out. It’s a school night.” You chide at the twin girls, giving them a small wink as Suguru was enjoying a cup of tea while sitting at the breakfast bar. He was scrolling mindlessly on his phone, reading the news or something like that.

“Mom, please. Everyone’s going.” Nanako pled and even threw in a small pout.

“Yeah, who cares if it’s a school night?” Mimiko chimed in.

“Girls.” Suguru warned as he normally did when you were having to deal with the twins. He didn’t like the idea of the girls ganging up on you.

“I said no. I bet you two didn’t even do your homework yet either.” You carry on, eyeing the two girls as if they were really in trouble.

“Ugh! Mom, shut up!” The girls somehow managed to say in sync. The two had obviously practiced their lines.

The tea glass hit the counter, and Suguru a stood up from his seat on the stool. “Hey. I don’t ever want to hear that kind of language in this house, especially not to your mother. Got that?” He said as he eyed your daughters.

Your husband was a bit of a strict father to the girls. He really just wanted them to turn out good, so he was the main disciplinary figure in the house.

“Dad! She’s-“

“Aht.” He cuts Mimiko off, and starts to walk up to the girls. “I didn’t ask. Apologize to your mother this instant. Then, go upstairs and do your homework. You two are grounded from going out for at least a month.”

“Sugu, it’s a prank.” You say as you can’t hold back a laugh from how angry he got that quickly. “It’s a prank, sweetie.”

Your two girls were nodding quickly, holding their hands out in surrender. “We saw it on TikTok!”

Suguru rolls his eyes at the three of you. “That app is no good for you.” He quietly chides. “Did you two do your homework?”

Mimiko and Nanako exchange nervous glances, and they both run up to their rooms to get it done.

Your husband laughs quietly and shakes his head before sitting back down on his stool. You walk over towards him and card your fingers through his long hair. He lets out a long exhale of contentment while leaning his head into your touch. “What are we gonna do with those two, hm?”

“Love them and try our best to teach them.” You softly respond before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

TOJI

Toji is a pretty laid back dad. He lets you take the lead on a lot of the parenting aspects, since it comes to you more naturally than it does with him. However.. he has his moments.

“Megumi, come help me do the dishes.” You say to your 13-year-old son. He’s in that weird stage of puberty where you’re his best friend one day and his worst enemy the next, which means he sometimes agreed to play pranks with you.

“Busy, mom.” He mumbles at the table as he’s trying to learn the hand signs for one of his shikigami. He was left learning this stuff on his own since Toji wasn’t a sorcerer, and you weren’t apart of the Zenin clan. You had no idea how to do the hand gestures.

“You can do that after you’re done helping me, Gumi.” You say as you turn on the kitchen sink. Your son doesn’t even acknowledge that you said anything.

Toji eyes him from his seat at the dining table, waiting for his son to comply.

“Gumi. Get in here.” You finally say after a minute of him not responding to you.

“Shut up, Mom!” He raises his voice at you, and immediately, Toji is on him quicker than you could respond.

“What did you just say to your mother, brat?” Toji grits as he stares down at his teenage son. Megumi looked back up at him mortified. “I brought you in this world, and I will take your ass out of it if I hear you speak to your mom like that again.”

“Baby, baby, baby, it’s a prank!” You say as you rush over to Toji. Megumi cracks a nervous smile, and you gently nudge Toji back.

“It’s a prank!” Megumi shouts as he leans back away from Toji slightly.

Your husband lets out an annoyed grunt. “You two play too much. Gonna make me kill my own son.” He says as he releases Megumi’s shoulder. He walks back over to his seat at the dining table and smacks your ass on the way back.

SUKUNA

“Ryu, come take out the trash!” You yell to your son. He recently brought up the idea of pranking Sukuna by yelling at you to shut up in front of him. You had urged your son that this was a bad idea, but he was persistent.

Sukuna was sat at the dining table, eating whatever Uraume had prepared for him. Usually, Uraume handled the trash as well, but you distinctly told them to leave it.

There’s no response.

“Ryu! Trash now!” You call out again in a more frustrated tone.

Sukuna is biting his tongue at this point. There is nothing that he hates more than insolence, especially towards you. You’re his queen, and he demands for all to respect you, including his son.

No response.

“Ryu!”

“Okay mom! Shut the fuck up!”

All four of Sukuna’s eyes widened, and he put down his fork. “Domain expansion. Malevolent-“

“It’s a prank!” You shout as you spin to look at Sukuna quickly. Your son is standing behind you, quite literally trembling in fear.

“Yeah- it’s a p-prank, dad.” Ryu stutters out.

Sukuna narrows his gaze, and he looks between the two of you. “Foolish.” He grunts. “Boy, come have a seat.” He commands, and your son reluctantly complies.

“If you ever pull some shit like that seriously, I’m not afraid to start over and make a new kid. I got nothing but time on my hands.” Your husband says while eyeing your son.

“Ryu’s a good kid, Kuna.” You assure him as you walk over to your husband and rub on his shoulders a bit.

“Mmm, for now.” He mumbles, and he nods his head to the trashcan. “Take the trash out.”

NANAMI

Your husband was sitting in the living room, enjoying his “lazy Sunday” as he called it. He had a cup of coffee in one hand and a book in the other. He couldn’t help but feel incredibly grateful for the life he was living right now.

He had everything he ever dreamed of: a stable job, an amazing wife, a small family in a loving home.

You were sitting next to him, casually rubbing on his thigh through his pajama pants. You and your daughter had been texting about playing a prank on your dear husband, and it was finally going to happen.

“Hana, did you fold the clothes like I told you to?” You call out to your daughter as she’s in her bedroom. Nanami turns a page in his book, still not paying too much attention.

“Mom, I’m doing something!” Your daughter yells back.

“Hana, get in here and fold those clothes!” You shout back, getting a bit more serious. Nanami lets out a small sigh as he places his mug on the coffee table. He’s normally quick to nip Hana’s attitude in the bud.

“I’m busy!”

“Hana!”

“Okay mom! Just shut up already!” She finally yells as she storms into the living room. Nanami shuts his book and immediately stares down your daughter.

“What did you just say?” He asks as he sits up from his cozy position. His jaw tightens a bit as he glares at Hana.

“I just told her to shut up. She’s being overdramatic.” Your daughter continues, playing her part perfectly.

“Who’s her? Your mother? You’re telling my wife to shut up?” Nanami says as he starts to stand up.

“It’s just a prank, Ken!”

“Dad, it’s a prank-!”

You and your daughter both shout nervously, and Nanami looks at both of you confused for a moment. It then clicks in his head. “God, don’t stress me out like that.” He chides as he relaxes back on the couch. He wraps his arm back around you and picks up his book again.

[hoshifighting]

heyy there!!

I was wondering if you could write a fiction where the svt members give a silent treatment to the reader but she is too sensitive and starts crying (because she thinks she doesn't deserve them)

Please feel free to reject it if ur uncomfortable 😚😚

seventeen reaction when you start to cry when they give you a silent treatment

a/n: guyyyys im the worst with angst, but i tried!! 🙏

seungcheol the second you start shaking, he’s up on his feet, crossing the room and pulling you into a tight, crushing hug. he’s warm, solid, his hand gently cradling the back of your head. “my fault, my fault, my fault,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “i should’ve been better. i should’ve stopped this. i didn’t mean to hurt you. god, i didn’t mean it.”

jeonghan’s regretting it the whole time. too good at keeping his distance, until he sees the tears running down your cheeks. then, he freezes “hey, hey…” he pulls you into his arms, wiping your tears away with his thumb. “shit, i’m sorry. you know i was just being stupid, right?” he leans his forehead against yours, brushing his fingers through your hair. “don’t cry, baby. it kills me to see you like this.”

joshua he’s always so gentle, i dont even see him giving silent treatment to someone. he’s instantly at your side, cupping your face in his hands. “please don’t cry. i hate this. i hate that i made you feel like this.” his voice wavers as he presses his lips to your forehead, his touch feather-light. “i love you, okay? i’m so sorry. i should’ve never let it get this far.”

junhui’s been avoiding your gaze, trying to keep the silence going even though it’s killing him. that first broken sob makes him almost freak out, he’s at your side, his hands trembling as he touches your arm. “oh— i— no, don’t cry,” he murmurs, his voice in purew panic. he gently pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

hoshi snapd. of course he snaps. he practically flies out of his seat, rushing over to you, arms wide. “oh, shit—no, no, don’t cry, don’t cry,” he blurts out, voice frantic as he wraps you up in the tightest hug, almost lifting you off the ground with how desperate he is. his fingers stroke your back awkwardly, trying to soothe you, and his voice is trembling.

wonwoo when he sees the tears fall, something inside him bursts. he’s not good at dealing with emotions, but he can’t just sit there while you’re crying. he pulls you gently onto his lap, his hand awkwardly stroking your hair. “i’m sorry, i don’t always know how to show it… but i care. a lot. i never wanted to make you cry.” he presses a kiss to your temple, his heart racing. “don’t cry, please. or I will cry too.” wonwoo says—already crying.

woozi stands up, awkwardly hovering for a second before pulling you into a tight hug. “fuck… i’m sorry,” he whispers against your hair. “i didn’t mean to push you this far.” his grip on you tightens, and he rests his chin on your head, letting out a shaky breath. “i can’t stand seeing you like this.” fingers twitching like he’s about to break any second.

minghao crouches down now too, right in front of you. he doesn’t say much at first, just gently tugs your hands away from your face, his touch delicate, like he’s scared to break you even more. “this was stupid, i shouldn’t have done this. it was childish.” he holds your gaze, his eyes serious “you didn’t deserve that.” kisses the back of your hands, laying his head on your knees begging you for forgiveness.

mingyu is already full of shame before you even start crying. but when the sobs hit, he stops dead in his tracks. he rushes to you, kneeling down in front of you. his large hands cup your face, and his thumbs brush away your tears. “fuck, i never wanted to make you cry.” his voice cracks, and he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, his head buried in your shoulder. looks like he’s about to break down himself.

seokmin gets on his knees beside you, eyes wide and watery, his usual smile completely gone. “my love i—” he says in this tiny voice, like he’s terrified he made everything worse. his hands flutter near your arm before he finally grips your sleeve like he needs you to believe him. “please don’t cry because of me.”

seungkwan’s been fidgeting the whole time, hating every second of the silence. thinking it couldn't get worse until you break in front of him “oh my god,” he blurts out, rushing over to you, his voice frantic. he pulls you into his arms, holding you as tight as he can. he lets out a shaky breath. “you’re everything to me. i’m sorry for making you feel like this.”

vernon is not sure how to fix it, thinking that in all ways, this sucked. the second you start crying, his chest tightens, and he’s at your side, pulling you into his lap. “i’m so so sorry. i didn’t mean to let it get this bad.” he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, trying to look into your eyes, pressing his lips into a line when you look away. “i’m here, okay? i’m here.” he presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

chan would be standing by the door, but the second you sob again, he’s crossing the room in three big steps, hands flinching to touch you and flinching back at him again as if he would burn you if he did. he would rather sit beside you still in silence, to find the best words since he hasn't talked during this whole time.

[luveline]

hi hii jade! Was wondering if you could do something sweet and fluffy w poly!marauders where reader wakes up in a very cozy and giggly mood 🤭 just some warm domestic love hehe

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

Someone is kissing his waist. Sirius squirms in his dozing, not expecting it as those kisses travel up his naked chest. Your laugh is breathy and soft as you kiss his shoulder, your weight strewn across his side and arm, your hand finding his cheek. 

Your fingers feel inhuman in the best way, like an angel. They spread across his face and neck as you hold him in place and kiss the skin where his neck meets his shoulder. “I love you…” you whisper, the ‘you’ turning long and slow like honey slipping down his front. “I wish you didn’t sleep so much.” 

You kiss him again, and with that you’re out of bed. Out of the room before Sirius has time to gather his wits, but he does gather them, because he needs more of whatever that was. 

What sort of sweetheart kisses somebody with such gentleness thinking they won’t remember? To press affection into him with want of nothing in return. He doesn’t even bother getting dressed, just scrubs at his sleep-swollen face and fishes the crusties from his eyes as he descends the stairs, numb-legged. 

James is grabbing you by the hips, helping you up onto the counter. His curls bounce at the back of his neck. “What’s gotten into you?” he asks. 

“Love, for sure.” 

“I can see that. Eggs? Omelette?” 

“Jamie, you can make anything. Actually, let me make you something–”

James pushes you further onto the top. “That’s okay, I’m cooking. I want to cook.” 

Sirius isn’t insecure, exactly. He feels he’s quite handsome when he attempts to be, and he knows you like him whether he’s trying or not, but he doesn’t know if you want to be interrupted, either of you, and it’s his private agony to wonder what to do. Then you spot him over James’ shoulder and your eyes practically sparkle. 

“Siri…” you sing-song, melodic as he crosses the kitchen linoleum to be with you and James. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.” 

Sirius touches James’ elbow with love but swoops in on you. “Did you wake me?” he asks, kissing your cheek, his arms working behind you to hold you as his lips travel downward. He isn’t half as sweet as you were, too busy trying to squeeze your torso against his and mould you into a perfect fit against him and under his arm to really think about what he’s doing. 

“She did it to me, too.” 

Sirius pulls your face into his neck and turns to James with a grin. “And Remus?” 

“He was already awake. But she kissed him and did that thing where her eyes somehow look bigger and shiny and he had to go for a walk.” 

“He didn’t have to go for a walk,” you mumble from Sirius’ neck. “He always walks on Saturday mornings. He’s just getting some herbs from the greenhouse.” 

The back door opens on cue. Remus reappears with an aura about him much like yours, dropping the cut herbs on the cutting board, and stopping just shy of everyone to smile. “Did she do it to you, as well?” he asks. 

James squeezes Remus’ face in his hand, a quick thank you for the herbs that has the latter turning pink. 

“She waylaid me with kisses like a common whore.” 

“Sirius,” James says scornfully. 

“Me being the whore,” Sirius says. You laugh into his neck, seemingly with no inclination to leave the circle of his arms. “Will I ever see your face again?” he asks. 

“It’s cozy here. I wish we’d stayed in bed.” 

“We can go back.” 

“After breakfast,” James says, popping an egg on the edge of the frying pan, breaking the shell one handed as he gives the sizzling oil a shake. 

Remus not so subtly crosses the last of the space to slot himself between your right thigh and the counter. Sirius has the urge to cup his cheek as James had done —Remus has an extremely holdable face— but is distracted by your nose nuzzling the line of his throat. 

“I love you,” you say. 

Doesn’t matter who you’re talking to. All three boys melt. 

“I’d like to do some really weird things to you,” Sirius says. 

“Me too,” James agrees. “But we do need breakfast first.” 

“No one is doing anything weird to me, it’s the weekend.” You beam as Remus laughs, seemingly your intention. 

Sirius backs away to a polite but still close proximity. He isn’t selfish; being in a ‘strange’ relationship like this one is a lot of reading cues, and a lot of just plain old climbing into people's laps when you want them, because nobody can truly read minds. Yet Sirius can see that you’re in the sort of mood where everything you touch turns to gold and all the boys want a piece of you, and who is he to get in the way of that? 

Well, he’s your boyfriend. He takes a kiss before he delegates himself to being herb-chopper, stealing glances of you from the corner of his eye. 

You tease a strand of Remus’ hair behind his ear. 

“Weird stuff is for weekdays only,” you’re murmuring. “What I want today is the real romantic stuff.” 

“Then you can have it,” Remus murmurs back. 

Sirius will happily be doing very romantic things to both of you after his omelette. James, too, if he’s so inclined. 

[stylesispunk]

Silent Strain | Part iii

Outbreak! Joel Miller x f!reader

previous part | next part

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

+++++++++++++

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.

+++++++++++++

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.

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.

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.”

……

Tags 💌: @jasminedragoon @orcasoul @missladym1981 @hiroikegawa @eleganthottubfun @lumpypoll @cuteanimalmama @thespookywookies @goodvibesonly421 @karaslqve @greenwitchfromthewoods @somedayheaven @bambisweethearts @joelsteinfeld @guelyury @biapascal @picketniffler @mrsyixingunicorn10 @httpvomitello @kulekehe

If you want to be removed, feel free to tell me.

[malavera]

Logan: "I'm right here, Bub." (18+) — Logan Howlett

summary: You had a fight with your father, he pissed you off so much you ran off to Logan's for comfort. But is that all you want?

warning: SMUT! MDNI. Legal age gap, Unprotected sex, logan has a big cock, reader wanted creampie, reader is called peach, daddykink, foul language, spanking, choking, basically SMUT.

an: concept is inspired after reading @plutodexay-nsfw's thoughts/ideas i hope i got the permission to write this one! This one's dedicated to you!

🏷️: @robynanthonystark @joelsgoldrush @bpmiranda @bobateababe @simonwifu @weallhaveadestiny @daddy-hugh-jackman @suchasweetieee @kholdkill @superhoeva @narjuko @wcndercore @bontensbabygirl @weallhaveadestiny @heart-0f-silk @peachyystuff @the-occasional-artist1125

this is part 4 from my series called Peaches, you can read it as a standalone! if you wish to read the previous ones, click here.

🍑 Check out my other works here

🍑 Logan masterlist here

🍑 do buy me a coffee if you like this one ;)

“Logan! … Logan! Where are you?!”

You storm into his house like a burglar ready to hit the jackpot, the wind rushing in with each determined step. You're on a mission to find the six-foot, muscular beast of a man—and complain about what a complete jerk your father is. How dare he come back from his long-awaited business trip with a woman on his arm, declaring she’s the one he’s going to marry—after all this time since your mother’s death. You put up a hell of a fight back there, screaming and crying, saying that you will not accept that woman as your step-mother as there will be no one that can replace or resume your mother's love.

Logan knew about this. Your father had a long conversation with him, asking whether it would be a good idea to introduce this woman to you. Logan didn’t want to come off as a know-it-all, even though he is, but he steered clear of family matters. Still, if your father had asked for his honest opinion, he’d have told him it wasn’t the best idea—you’re not emotionally ready for something like this.

And then you were off, rushing to Logan’s, even though your father yelled your name countless times. His new girlfriend held him back, urging him to let you be for a moment, to give you some space.

“I’m right here, bub.” Your head snapped toward the sound of his voice from the kitchen, where he stood, a mix of pity and disappointment etched on his face. His eyes reflected sadness, but there was also a glimmer of understanding; he knew how you felt, even if he believed you should show more respect to your father.

You exhaled sharply before rushing to him, enveloping him in a tight hug. His body radiated warmth, and with each passing moment, your anger melted into a puddle. Sobbing into his neck, Logan wrapped his arms around you tighter, his hand gently caressing your long, soft hair as he shushed you. “There, there, calm down, Peaches,” he cooed. He lifted you off your tiptoes, and your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. Holding you close, he made his way to the living room, settling down on the couch with you in his embrace.

“I hate him. I hate him so much,” you murmured into his neck, grumbling a bit as your anger began to bubble up inside you again.

“I know, Peach, I know. It’s okay—just calm yourself, okay?” Logan gently pulled you away to face him, wanting to see those beautiful eyes, even if they were now clouded with tears. Your eyes were bloodshot and red, tears streaming down your cheeks as you sniffled, struggling to hold back the snot threatening to escape.

You sighed, looking down, pouting. "I need you, please..." You whispered, your hands fisting his buttoned up shirt.

"What do ya need, Peaches?" His eyes searching for yours, looking for your honest answer.

"I need to fuck you, please. Please give me what I want." You pleaded, finally looking at him as your hips started to move on his lap a little.

Logan’s eyebrows knitted together, torn between giving you what you wanted and being the better man who took care of you. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of sickness in his gut; even as you cried, he found you utterly adorable and breathtaking. He wanted those tears to be from pleasure, that only from him you would receive. He wanted those tears to be from the pain of taking his big cock, his hips piston while fucking you hard. Too bad, the day he saw those tears streaming down those kissable cheeks, was from every little girl's first love, their father.

“Please,” you pleaded once more, pressing your face closer to his, connecting your swollen lips to his soft ones. You began to peck and kiss him all over. The kiss was charged with your wants and needs, the urgency evident in its hurried pace. Short breaths mingled as your tongues swirled together.

Logan couldn't find the words; all he could do was surrender to your control. In that moment, he convinced himself it was okay—as long as it was what you wanted and it made you happy, he would give in. Because why? Because he was in love with you. He knew it was complicated, that he should be cautious given the age difference, but from the moment he laid eyes on you, he vowed that you were meant for him and him alone.

The fabric of his jeans felt rough against your exposed skin once you started grinding on him. The tent in his pants started growing each time you ground yourself more to him. Soft moans and pants coming out of your lips as you ground yourself more on his bulge. You placed both of your hands on his shoulders, supporting yourself to grind more on his lap. Logan leaned back and scootch his bum a little lower so you'd feel more comfortable moving on top of him. His arms that were wrapped around you now lay defenseless on his sides, as he now lets you do whatever you want on him.

"This what you want, Peaches? To use me?" Logan grunted, his eyes watching yours as you screwed them shut and whimpered.

"Please—Need... More," you whimpered. You moved a little to sit on his thighs as your hands found their way to the band of his jeans.

"Peach," Logan spoke, he wanted to stop you right there but he himself is not even sure if he should stop this moment right here and right now. You fumbled with his jeans attempting to undo it and once it's done, you pulled his jeans along with his boxers a little, enough to free'd what you're looking for.

Logan grunted once his cock released to open air, slapping against his clothed abdomen. You gasp, even though you've seen it, it never fail to always leave you breathless. His cock stand tall and proud, and you couldn't help but immediately scootch off his lap, until your knees hit the soft carpet, to grab him with both hands and put the tip inside your warm mouth.

Logan nervously moaned from the feeling of your warm tongue twirling around his tip that keeps throbbing from the way you suck on his cock. You purposely let some of your saliva spilling out of your mouth down to his balls, as you let one hand reached down to knead his balls in your hand.

"Argh, god." Logan grunted, screwing his eyes shut, tossing his head back. His hand found your head, as he fisted some of your hair. "Peach," he choked out a moan.

You whimpered before you started to bob your head up and down his cock, purposely making a mess with your saliva. The slurping and squelching sound from sucking his cock is the only thing that fills the quiet room, along with Logan's constant grunts and heavy breathing.

Giving him a couple of bobs before you release his cock from your hold, Logan grunted in surprise. You pushed yourself back up on your feet as you attempted to pull your panties off. Logan could literally smell your arousal leaking down your needy cunt. You pushed him to lean against the cushion as you mount on his lap before grabbing on his cock giving him a couple of pumps while you aim his cock at your entrance.

"Peach, peach—Wait... Baby, I gotta get us a condom." Logan hastily stop you right there but you whined and hold him by his chest.

"I need to feel all of you, Daddy, Please." Before Logan could say anything, he moaned once he felt you sinking down on his cock slowly while you looked down mouth agape slightly trying to hold down the pain from his monster cock tearing your walls.

Logan wished he'd claim your innocence in some other way, other than this. He wanted it to be special, to be memorable for you, but if this is what you want, and he'd hoped this would be memorable enough for you, then so be it.

He grunted through his gritted teeth, trying to hold himself from combusting in you right there and now. The way your tight walls choking his thick cock, it feels like as if he was getting choked by his neck. Your tight cunt felt so good around him, he wanted to take the matters into his own hands and fuck you hard right there.

"Baby, can you move, please?" Logan, is the one who pleaded.

You whimpered before nodding your head as you started to move yourself up and down his shaft. Once you get the hang of it, you place both of your hands back on his shoulders. Eyes bore into his as his into yours while your lips spill out the prettiest moan he's ever heard from you.

"God! Logan, you're so big." Logan lazily smirked.

"I know baby, I know you can take it. Come on, work that pussy on daddy's cock. Use, me baby." Logan whispered, his hand found its way to your nape, pushing your head closer to him to connect your forehead against his.

You started to screw your eyes shut, whimpering once you feel him move his hips along your rhythm. "So good, daddy." You sobbed.

"Yeah? Need to fuck that anger away on my cock, don't you, Peaches?" He reminded you why you needed his cock. To fuck your pain and anger away. The little girl that was once fragile on top of him all of a sudden snapped into someone even you don't recognize. Someone sinister that has been long living inside you.

You snapped your eyes open, eyebrows knitted together before pushing your head off disconnecting from his forehead. Logan keeps his face neutral, looking at you and groaned when he felt your hand wrapped around his throat. You started to move your hips rapidly, like riding a horse to make it gallop fast.

"Yeah, that's it, baby. Use my cock, come on, make yourself feel good. I know you're mad, baby. I know you do, come on, fuck my cock. Faster—Harder!" Logan gave your ass a couple of smack earning a loud moan from you, resulting in getting a rapid move from your hips.

"Yeah... There's a good girl," Logan whispered. "Come on, baby, I know you can do better than that," Logan coo'ed when he felt your hand attempted to squeeze his neck. He almost laughed at you on how pathetic you are, trying to control him.

So he reminded you, even though you're in control, who's the captain of this ship.

Logan's hand found your neck, as you choked out a moan. His squeeze was far from choking you but it felt like he was. He started to thrust his hips upwards, fucking your throbbing pussy; the squelching sound could be heard. His semi-saggy-and-heavy balls slapping against the bottom of your ass, sounding like a clap.

"Awh—Daddy!" You pathetically moaned for him. "Daddy—Yes! Right there, like that—Please! I wanna cum." You pleaded.

"Come on, Baby, cum f'r me."

"Ah—!" You shrieked with your eyes screwed shut as your whole body stuttered reaching your orgasm, coming down on his cock.

"There... We go." Logan helped you ride off your orgasm by still softly fucking your cunt. "Now come on, make daddy cum. Daddy wants to cum too." Logan whispered before he begin to fuck you back, fast.

"Ngh—Daddy! ... Does my cunt feel good around your cock?" You softly spoke, looking down at him flexing your doe eyes and your famous pout while Logan's bore into you, his mouth fell agape slightly as his main focus was to reach his high.

He panted, he groaned, while you're there on top of him doing nothing but letting him use your cunt. "Grrh—Fuck! 'M gonna cum." Logan grunted and now you started to fuck him back forcing his hips to stay down.

You rode him fast, faster than before to help him reach his high. "PEACH—GET OFF!" He boomed but you refused to listen to him, instead you crazily smiled at him and spill out tiny moans, looking at him.

"FUCK—I'M GONNA FUCKING CUM! GET OFF OF ME!" Logan roared.

"Cum in me, Daddy—Yeah!"

Logan couldn't hold himself any longer, his moral is not even working at the moment. All he thinks is only shooting his hot load out and he does, as he choked out a moan gripping your hips to stay in place while he shoot out his strings of cum inside you. His thighs stuttered a little while he still emptying his load; it was so much.

You giggled watching him trying to gain his breath while he looks at you dead in the eye.

"I better not see that attitude for the rest of the night." Logan warned while you just sit there, on top of him, looking at him without a care of his words.

"Thank you, Daddy."

[simplygojo]

I Like Your Tie...

A/n: OMG ONE OF MY FAVS REQUESTED! I loved this request; thats why it took SO LONG I’m sorry my friend I hope you enjoyyyy!! <3 I needed another Nanami request so bad so you did me a favour with this one, LOLLL.

Request: “Your last Toji fic got me frothing like a rabid dog. Lol. in all ways it was very uniquely him indeed ! The same for Gojo and Witch!Reader. Could I shy request a fic with the song 'Talk' by Hozier paired up with Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader ? Something sensual steamy but ever so romantic for the blonde? I can practically see him saying or thinking such lyric quotes as "I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things we'd do... So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you. Imagine being loved by me". May she's a fellow Special Grade sorcerer, and their friendship keeps building up, but neither wants to cross the line ? So they dance around it, until something happens ? Idk. >\\\\\\\\\\\\\\< I'll leave it to your artistic hands and imagination what to do with this? If you feel inspired to. In any case, please delete if this seems rubbish. Anyway, thank you for your stories ! Thank you so much. ♡” - @erebus-et-eigengrau (lurvv uu)

My requests are always open :)

Pairing: Kento Nanami x f/reader

Word count: 3.8K

Warnings: 18+ Content, SMUT!, intercourse, light choking, control kink(ish), pet name

The late-night quiet of Jujutsu High was comforting in a way—no students rushing through the halls, no teachers around to monitor. You had been grateful for the peace, retreating to your room after a long day.

But as you reached your door, you stopped in your tracks.

There he was. Nanami Kento stood in front of your door, leaning casually against the wall. 

—

You and Nanami had been friends for what felt like a lifetime, though it all began back in high school. Back then, you had a bit of a crush on him—not that you’d ever admit it. He wasn’t the type to flirt or give much attention to relationships, but there was something about him that always caught your eye. 

You had your moments, too—shared laughter, and private conversations late into the night, when the walls between friends almost seemed to blur. 

But Nanami never made a move, and neither did you. You knew how seriously he took his role as a sorcerer, and you didn’t want to complicate your friendship with feelings that you weren’t sure were mutual.

As you both graduated and eventually became high-level sorcerers, those moments of potential intimacy became even more distant. You grew into your own roles, taking on increasingly dangerous missions and fighting curses that most could barely comprehend. Nanami was often assigned to the same missions as you, his calm, steady presence a source of reassurance when things got chaotic.

There were times when his professionalism would slip, just for a moment. A fleeting look, a brush of his fingers against yours, his voice dropping an octave when he spoke your name. You always wondered if he felt it too—that same tension you tried so hard to ignore. But you never dared to ask, afraid of what it might mean if the answer was yes.

And now, standing in front of him in the quiet after everything that had just happened, you realized just how deeply those old feelings still ran.

There were times, though, when your old crush resurfaced. 

Sometimes, it was the way he’d look at you across the battlefield, silently checking to see if you were okay, his eyes filled with a concern that was more than just professional. Other times, it was the rare, gentle touch when he’d help you after a fight—his hand brushing your arm or waist as he steadied you after a particularly tough encounter.

But you always pushed those feelings down, refusing to acknowledge them for the sake of professionalism. 

The sorcery world didn’t leave much room for distractions, and you knew that Nanami was as dedicated as ever. He was the picture of control, never letting emotions dictate his actions, always focused on the mission at hand. You convinced yourself that whatever crush you had on him was just remnants of your high school days, a fleeting fantasy that had no place in your current life.

—

His arms were crossed, his tie long loosened, and the top buttons of his shirt undone. The dim lighting of the hallway cast a shadow over his sharp features, making the intensity in his eyes even more pronounced. He looked every bit the composed man he always was, but something about the way his gaze followed your every movement made your heart stutter.

“Nanami…” His name left your lips in a quiet murmur, not expecting to see him there, not like this.

“You’re out late,” he observed, his voice steady but lower than usual, as if the stillness of the night demanded it.

You nodded, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. “Well, one of the first-years wanted some late-night training…What are you doing here?”

He didn’t answer right away, eyes flicking down to your lips before settling back on yours. 

You could feel the tension in the air, thick and palpable, making it hard to think clearly. His usual restraint seemed to falter, just slightly, but enough to make your pulse race.

“I was waiting for you.” His voice was steady, but the words made your breath hitch.

Your heart pounded in your chest. 

“Waiting for me?” You said quietly, a heat beginning to pool between your thighs.

Nanami pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer to you, his movements deliberate. The space between you closed as his tall figure made its way toward you—the tension that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks finally came to a boil. 

“Why were you waiting for me..?” You questioned, “I need to talk,” He responded, his voice barely above a whisper.

He was close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the faint scent of his cologne filling your senses.

“I used to try to talk so refined, in fear of you finding out…” He admitted, his voice lower now, almost rough around the edges. His eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. 

“Finding out what, Nanami.” You breathed, watching how his lips parted just slightly while he paused. “How I’ve been imagining you." 

The air between you was thick with tension, so heavy you could almost taste it. Nanami stood inches away, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. His normally professional demeanour had cracked, revealing something raw, something primal. The careful distance you both had maintained was no longer there.

"Imagining me…?" You repeated, your voice barely more than a whisper. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you were certain he could hear it.

Nanami’s eyes darkened, and his gaze roamed over you in a way that left your body practically squirming under his scrutiny. His jaw clenched for a moment as though fighting some internal battle, but when he spoke, his voice was low and hoarse, filled with a desire he was no longer trying to hide.

“Every time I look at you,” he confessed, his hands flexing at his sides, like he was resisting the urge to touch you, “I think about how you’d feel under my touch… under me.”

Your breath caught, your throat suddenly dry as his words sank in. The image of his hands on your skin, the weight of him pressing against you, the feeling of him between your legs—it sent a wave of heat through your body, leaving you borderline trembling with anticipation.

“Nanami…” you whispered his name, your voice trembling with the same desire that was now coursing through you. The distance between you felt unbearable.

The professionalism you both held onto so tightly was crumbling, and the temptation to give in was overwhelming.

The hallway was too quiet, too intimate, and it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away. It was just the two of you, standing there on the precipice of something dangerous and irresistible.

“I won’t deny I’ve got in my mind now all the things we’d do,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper as his thumb traced your jawline, gently tilting your head with two fingers. His eyes darkened with want, and the weight of his words hung heavily in the air.

That was all it took. The pull between you snapped, and before you could think, your hands were fisting in his dark blue shirt, pulling him down to meet your lips in a kiss that was heated, desperate—inevitable.

His hand swiftly opened your door before pushing you into it, causing both of you to stumble into the dimly lit room. With a loud thud, Nanami kicked the door shut before pushing you back up against your entryway wall.

Nanami groaned softly into your mouth—your pussy practically throbbing at the sound—and his hands immediately wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer as if he couldn’t stand the idea of any space between you. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that you hadn’t expected, and it left you breathless.

You gasped when his hands gripped your hips firmly, pushing more firmly against the wall. The cool surface against your back was a stark contrast to the heat that radiated from him as he pressed himself closer, his lips never leaving yours.

His kisses were deliberate, slow—but rough—as if he wanted to savour every moment of this. 

"Mmf…Nanami," you breathed, pulling back just enough to look at him, your lips swollen from the kiss, breathless. "What are we doing?"

His forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged as he looked down at you. There was something raw, unguarded in his expression. “What I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and before you could say anything else, he was kissing you again, deeper this time. “Now be a good girl for me, y/n.” He practically purred against your lips, as he lifed you so your legs wrapped around his waist. 

His hands moved with more confidence now, sliding up your sides while you were pinned against the wall, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You tugged at his hair, your fingers desperate to feel more of him.

His hands, rough from battle and years of work, were surprisingly gentle as they slid beneath your shirt, fingers brushing over your painfully hard nipples, teasing you. You arched into him, your body responding to every touch.

He made quick work of your jacket—and that tiny tank top you wore underneath it, his hands roughly reaching for every bit of exposed skin.

Nanami growled softly with your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips trailed down the column of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that had you moaning his name.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, his breath hot against your neck, but the fire in his eyes told you stopping was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Don’t," you whispered—pleading with him for more, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. "Don’t stop."

Nanami’s eyes darkened further at your words, and a slow, subtle smirk spread across his lips. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. 

His hand moved up to the tie hanging loosely around his neck, fingers working quickly to loosen it even further. Before you could register what he was doing, he slid the tie off entirely, his movements deliberate and slow as he looped the fabric around your neck.

The silk felt cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body. His eyes never left yours as he gently tugged at the tie, pulling you closer, the pressure on your throat light but enough to send a thrill through you that went straight to your now-soaked pussy.

“There,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over the side of your neck as he admired how the tie looked wrapped around you, it falling on your bare chest. In a moment, his lips were back on your skin, trailing lower this time as his free hand continued to explore your body. He kissed a path down to your chest, the tie around your neck tightening just slightly as he pulled you even closer.

He brought you to the couch in your small room with one hand while the other held the back of your head as his tongue explored your mouth.

“You look so beautiful like this, do you know that, y/n? With my tie around your pretty little neck…” He murmured against your skin, his voice laced with raw, unfiltered need. 

Hoisting you up onto the back of the couch, his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your skirt, fingers brushing against the wetness between your thighs, and the contact made you gasp. 

With one swift but gentle movement, Nanami slid your skirt and tights down your legs, and now you sat in front of him—completely vulnerable.

“Nanami—” Your words were cut off by a moan as his fingers returned, pressing more firmly, the slow, torturous circles he drew making your entire body tremble. The tie tightened just a fraction more as he leaned back to look at you, his thumb brushing against your clit in a way that had your heart racing even faster.

“You’re so responsive for me,” he growled softly, his fingers entering your dripping cunt slowly, making sure to feel every inch of your interior. “It’s driving me insane.”

You could barely breathe, the combination of his fingers between your legs and the light pressure of the tie around your neck leaving you a trembling mess in his arms. You clung to him, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as you fought to hold on, your body betraying you with every ragged breath and every desperate moan.

"Nanami, please..." You barely recognized your own voice, hoarse and breathless as you begged for him.

He smirked against your skin, clearly pleased by your reaction. “You want more, don’t you?” He asked, his voice thick with amusement, but the tension in his body told you he was just as desperate as you were.

You nodded, your head falling back as your body arched into his touch. “Please…”

The sound of your begging seemed to snap something in him. With one swift motion, he lifted you up with one arm and spun you around before setting you on your feet in front of him, your ass pressing up against his bulge as the cool leather from the couch pressed against your lower abdomen. 

He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as his fingers slipped inside you again, making you gasp loudly at the sudden (welcomed) intrusion. 

“I want to hear you beg for me again,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin as his fingers moved with agonizing slowness, teasing you, driving you to the brink of insanity. His other hand subtly undid his belt, lowering his pants just enough to expose his desperate cock.

You moaned, arching into his hand, your body betraying you as it responded to every touch, every whisper of his breath on your skin. “Nanami...hmmf…please...I-I need you in me.” You managed to get out between moans.

“That’s it,” he growled, his fingers exiting you, but they were quickly replaced by his dick as he inserted himself into you—feeling you stretch around him caused him to throw his head back in pleasure, and he gave a little yank on the tie, your head jerking backwards as your stomach pressed harder into the couch, provoking a pornographic moan to exit your lips.

“Fuck,” he growled, his breath hot against your skin as he buried himself inside you, again and again, each stroke thrusting deeper into your gummy walls, sending waves of pleasure through your body. “You feel so good.”

His pace quickened, and the slow, deliberate rhythm gave way to something more primal and desperate. His control was slipping, and you could feel it in every rough thrust, every growl that rumbled from his chest as he claimed you completely.

The tie tightened again, the silk digging into your skin just enough to heighten the pleasure, and the sensation sent you spiralling toward the edge. Your body trembled beneath him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you gasped for breath, the intensity of it all overwhelming.

He leaned forward, the new angle allowing him to go even deeper into you. He gently moved your hair off of your shoulder as his delicate fingers traced the border of his tie and your skin. “You really are such a good girl.”

His thumb pushed into clit as he thrusted into you at a dominating pace—the sensation was nearly enough to push you over the edge—but you held on a little longer. You cried out his name, your entire body shaking as his pace quickened, he tightened the feeling around your throat with the tie around your neck pulling you closer to him.

Nanami’s body moved behind you, the warmth of him pressing against your back as his hands gripped your hips. Bent over the back of your couch, with the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your flushed skin. “Mmhf–Nanami…Oh please.” You moaned out, practically begging him for more as he fucked you with a controlling pace

His breath was heavy, ragged, as he leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, making you feel the sheer size and strength of him as he dominated you completely.

Nanami’s fingers wrapped around his tie nicely wrapped around your neck, pulling it taut. The sensation made you gasp, your head tilting back slightly as the silk tightened around your throat just enough to send a jolt of pleasure through your already overstimulated body. Suddenly he took his soaked dick out of you letting it land on your ass, rubbing his hand over the smooth skin.

“You look just perfect like this,” he growled low in your ear, his voice thick with lust as he tugged the tie just a bit tighter, your chin tilting up as he whispered in your ear. “Bent over—begging for me.”

Your legs trembled beneath you, your body quivering with anticipation, but before you could respond, he was inside you again. 

The stretch was immediate, deep, and overwhelming as he thrust into you from behind, filling you completely with a single stroke. You cried out, your fingers gripping the edge of the desk as he pulled you back against him, the tie keeping you tethered, under his controlled.

“Nanami…” You moaned his name, your voice barely more than a breathless whisper as he began to move, his hips snapping against you in a relentless rhythm. Every thrust was harder than the last, his grip on the tie tightening with every movement, pulling you back into him, forcing you to feel every inch of him.

His pace was brutal, his control slipping entirely as he watched the way your body reacted to him, the way you moaned his name with every stroke. His free hand found your hip, gripping you so tightly that you were sure there’d be marks tomorrow, but the thought only sent another wave of arousal through you.

“You feel so good, y/n,” he growled, his voice rough as he leaned over you, his lips brushing against the back of your neck. “My good girl...”

His words are what sent you over the edge, the stimulation of your orgasm turning your vision white. 

Your body was on fire, every nerve alive with pleasure as he drove into you again and again. The tie around your neck tightened even more, the pressure just enough to leave you lightheaded, completely at his mercy. You felt every inch of him inside you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room, along with your breathless moans as pleasure washed over you.

Nanami's body pressed closer as you shuddered beneath him, the waves of your orgasm still coursing through you. 

But he didn’t stop. 

Even as your body trembled, oversensitive and breathless, he kept thrusting into you with the same relentless intensity. His pace didn’t falter, and each stroke seemed deeper, more demanding, as if he couldn't get enough of the way you clenched around him.

Your moans turned to gasps as pleasure mixed with the overwhelming sensation of him continuing to push you past your limit. Your fingers clutched at his back, nails digging into his skin with a painful force, but he didn't slow down. He leaned over you, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and ragged.

“Look at you, taking it so well," he groaned, his voice dark and full of praise. "You feel so good, I don’t want to stop.”

Your legs shook around him, your body still pulsating from your release, and the overstimulation had you crying out, your nails leaving marks along his back. 

"Nanami... please..." you gasped, unsure if you were begging him to stop or to keep going. You felt like you were being consumed, every nerve on fire, and yet your body responded to his touch, desperate for more.

He shifted slightly, angling his hips to hit that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, his hand still pressed firmly against your clit drawing rough circles. The tie around your neck tightened just a bit more, enough to remind you of the control he had, the control you were willingly giving him.

“I’m not done with you yet," he growled, his thrusts growing rougher, faster, his body taking full control over yours. "You can come again for me, can’t you?"

You didn’t know how it was possible, but the overwhelming pleasure began to build again inside you. His touch on your clit was insistent, his hips snapping against yours in a rhythm that left you breathless, teetering on the edge of something even more intense than before.

Your body trembled beneath him, the overstimulation and pleasure merging into something maddening. Every nerve was alight, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. You were already too sensitive, your mind spinning as he pushed you closer and closer to the brink once again.

Nanami could feel it—he knew exactly how close you were, how your body tensed around him. His lips brushed your ear as he spoke, his voice low and commanding. “Come for me again, y/n. I want to feel you fall apart around me baby.”

With that, his fingers pressed harder against your clit, and his hips slammed into you at a brutal pace, each thrust sending you spiraling further out of control. The pressure inside you coiled impossibly tight, and with a cry of his name, you shattered once more, the intensity of your second orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Your body shook uncontrollably, your moans turning to sobs of pleasure as you convulsed around him. The sensation was too much, too overwhelming, and yet you never wanted it to end. Nanami’s name fell from your lips like a prayer as he continued thrusting into you, his own breathing growing more ragged, more desperate.

"That's it," he growled, his voice thick with pleasure as he watched you unravel beneath him, his pace rapidly increasing. "So fucking beautiful."

He wasn’t far behind. The way your walls clenched around him, the way you shook with each thrust, sent him over the edge. 

His pace grew erratic, his grip on your waist tightening as he buried himself deep inside you one last time, groaning your name as he came. He tugged at the tie harshly, yanking you up form your bent over position so yoru back was against his sweaty chest, his hand gently holding your chin up. 

“You were so good for me,” he breathed, his voice hoarse, igniting a spark in you again. You remained silent for a few moments, breath staggered as you tried to catch it, still shaking with pleasure as he held you upright in front of him. 

Finally, you opened your mouth to speak, a cheeky smile playing on your lips, “I like your tie…”

[itneverendshere]

reader maybe having a dad, like jj’s? very manipulative and controlling, sometimes it’s physical. and he comes out unexpected while rafes there

okay so i was planning to write off her parents as dead but this made me change my mind a little, hope you enjoy <3

wash the sins out of that house - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

The sound of cartoons played low in the background, mixing with the faint clink of a fork against a plate. 

Rafe leaned back against the worn-out couch in your sister’s living room, watching as you flipped pancakes at the kitchen counter. Your sister’s kid, Milo, was glued to your leg, like always, babbling about some superhero show. The smell of breakfast filled the house, making it feel more like home than his own ever did.

Every little thing you did just made him fall more, if that was possible. He was always looking at you like that, like you were some kind of miracle.

It wasn’t just how good you were with Milo or how much you cared about everything and everyone. It was how much weight you carried without ever complaining, how you made everything seem easy even when he knew it wasn’t. You’d been staying here ever since the storm ripped through your house a few months back. 

Your sister was cool. Single mom, strong like you, but in a quieter way. She worked double shifts, and left you to help with Milo most of the time. Not that you ever complained, even after the long shifts, you loved to babysit. You were used to this shit—being the rock. Probably why you hadn’t freaked out when your house got leveled. You just rolled with it, found a place with your sister, and moved on like it was no big deal.

He’d been staying over more and more, crashing on the couch when he was too tired to drive back to Tannyhill. At first, it was just because he wanted to be near you when you couldn’t sleep over at his. But now… it felt like more. Like he could see himself living with you right away.

You glanced over your shoulder, catching him staring like an idiot. “You good?”

“Yeah,” He cleared his throat, leaning forward. “You need help or something?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you flipped another pancake. “You? In the kitchen? That’s rich, baby.”

“Hey, you never complain about my pancakes.” He shot you a grin, but it faded when Milo tugged at your shirt, asking something in that tiny voice of his. 

You crouched down, your voice soft as you reassured him, “Mommy will be back soon, okay? Just a couple more hours.”

You looked so at ease like you’d been raising kids your whole life. It did something to him—watching you like that. This tough, independent woman who wouldn’t take anyone’s shit, just… melting when you talked to Milo.

Rafe swallowed hard, not really knowing what to say. Every time he tried to picture your future together, it got fuzzy. Not because he didn’t want one. He already told you he did. But because he wasn’t sure if he deserved one with you. His life had been a mess half the time.

He’d hurt people. Done things.

But when he was around you, he didn’t feel like that entitled spoiled guy anymore. He felt like someone who could be better. For you.

The front door slammed open, and immediately, something was off. Rafe’s eyes shot from Milo’s cartoons to the guy who’d just staggered in. He could smell the booze before he even saw his face.

Who the hell?

You froze. The spatula in your hand hung mid-air as you stared at this man like you’d seen a ghost. But this wasn’t a ghost. This guy was real, and from the way he was swaying on his feet, he was about to make himself a problem.

“Some fucking daughters y’all are,” the guy slurred, his voice rough and soaked in alcohol. “Not inviting your old man over while he’s in town.”

Your dad? That was your dad?

Rafe’s mind spun. You never talked about your parents and he’d never asked because he wasn’t stupid. He could tell it was a touchy subject, just like his own dad was sometimes, so he never brought it up. He assumed they were gone and you only had your sister. He never imagined this. 

Not once had you mentioned your dad. And now here he was, stumbling through the door like he owned the place.

Rafe shot up from the couch, every muscle in his body tightening. Who the hell did he think he was, barging in here like that? You didn’t say anything right away, but your whole posture changed—your back straight, your pretty face like stone. You looked like you were bracing for something, and he didn’t like that one bit.

“Dad,” you said, flat and cold. “What are you doing here?”

He gave this ugly laugh, a mix of drunk and mean. “What, can’t a father check in on his daughters? Or are you too good for your family now?”

You didn’t even flinch. Didn’t say a word. Just stood there, still as a statue, while Milo clung to your leg, eyes wide, just as confused as Rafe felt.

Rafe stepped forward, putting himself between him and you. He didn’t care if this guy was your dad. He was drunk, stumbling, and saying things no father should be saying to his kid.

“Who the hell are you?” Her dad’s eyes flicked to him, narrowing, like he was sizing me up. “Rich boy? Boyfriend?”

He squared his shoulders, staring him down. “Rafe.”

“Rafe,” he repeated, laughing like it was some kind of joke. “Of course. She’d find herself a rich boyfriend. Always looking for the easy way out, huh?”

He had some fucking nerve walking in here, talking to you like that. Like Rafe was ever going to let someone run you down. He didn’t know anything about your relationship with your parents, but from the look in your eyes and the way you were gripping the edge of the counter, he was starting to get the picture. This wasn’t the first time your dad pulled something like this, clearly.

You grabbed his arm before he could take another step. “Rafe, don’t.”

Your voice was low, almost pleading. Not because you were scared, but because this was deeper than just a drunk guy running his mouth. This was something you’d been dealing with for years, and your boyfriend was just now getting a front-row seat.

Your dad sneered at you. “That’s right. Tell your little boyfriend to back off. You’re not so tough now, are ya? Always thinking you’re better than me. Always looking after your sister’s kid like you’re some kind of hero. But you’re not. You’re just like your mother. Weak.”

That’s when Rafe felt it. That surge of anger, that need to hit something.

No one talked to you ike that. No one.

He could feel his fists clench, chest tightening. He was ready to throw your dad out himself. But your hand tightened on his arm, and he looked at you. Really looked at you. You seemed tired, like you’d been through this a thousand times before, and you didn’t need him to step in. Not right now.

“Let him go,” you said quietly. “He’ll leave when he’s done.”

Rafe didn’t want to back off. Every instinct in him was screaming to throw this piece of shit out on his ass. But something in your voice, something in the way you were looking at him, made him stop. You weren’t asking for help. You were asking him to let it go. For now.

He swallowed the anger and stepped back, though he kept myself between you and your dad. He wasn’t leaving you alone with this guy, no way in hell.

Your dad’s sneer didn’t falter. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He swayed a bit before heading for the door, muttering under his breath. “Ungrateful little—"

The door slammed behind him, leaving the room dead quiet. The kind of quiet that made you realize just how loud things were a minute ago.

You exhaled slowly, like you’d been holding your breath the whole time. You turned back to the counter, flipping the pancake like nothing happened. But Rafe could see the way your hands shook just a little.

He stood there for a second, still running through everything that just went down. He’d never seen you like that before. And he didn’t like what he saw.

“Baby,” he said quietly, stepping closer.

You didn’t look at him. “He does that sometimes. Shows up, drunk, says whatever he feels like saying. Then he leaves. Same thing for as long as I can remember.”

Rafe didn’t know what to say. His mind was racing, trying to wrap around the fact that this was your life. You’d been dealing with that guy for who knows how long, and you never said a word about it.

“That’s not okay,” he said finally, his voice rough. “That’s not normal.”

You sighed, finally turning to face him. “Yeah, well. Now you met the whole family.”

You didn’t know what else to say.

There wasn’t much to say. This was just how things were for you. Your dad was a mess, and you’d learned to deal with it, ignore it even. There was no fixing this. Not really. At this point, it didn't affect you or your daily life that much.

“I should’ve asked,” he said, his voice thick with guilt. “About your family, I mean.”

I shook my head, feeling the weight of it all. “I wouldn’t have told you,” I admitted. “Probably would’ve said he’s dead.”

You didn’t want to be that girl—the one with family baggage so heavy it crushed everything good in your life. You didn’t want Rafe looking at you like I were fragile or damaged. It was bad enough that you were as broke as it got. You’d just gotten used to him wanting to help, to be a little less independent, to let him take care of you and spoil you every once in a while.

This though? You never wanted him to find out. 

But now… he knew. He knew what you came from. And you couldn’t hide it anymore.

“I don’t care,” Rafe said suddenly, breaking the silence. Like he was trying to convince you and himself at the same time. “I don’t care about your dad. I care about you.”

You could feel his eyes burning into you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you kept your focus on the pancakes, the routine keeping you distracted. But your hands wouldn’t stop shaking, no matter how hard you tried to stop it.

“I just… I didn’t want you to see that,” You finally admitted, your voice small and raw in a way you hated. “I didn’t want you to know how messed up everything is.”

Rafe moved closer, his body warmth seeping into your side as he leaned against the counter next to you. He didn’t try to touch you, though, and you were grateful for that. You weren’t ready for that.

Not yet.

“Messed up? Baby, have you met me?” He let out this soft, disbelieving laugh, but there wasn’t any humor in it. 

You glanced up at him, finally meeting his eyes. And there it was—that soft, almost sad look he got sometimes when he thought about his family. About how his mom left and how his dad never really let him in. Ward Cameron was friendly enough with you, and he wasn’t a complete asshole to his son, but he was absent, not really caring about keeping a constant connection with his kids. It hit you then that maybe you two weren’t so different after all.

Maybe that’s why you worked.

But still, the shame stayed. The feeling that now that he really knew you, the ugly parts you kept hidden, he might not stick around. Guys like him didn’t stick with girls like you, right? Despite him doing the exact opposite until know.

“This changes nothing, okay?” he said, his voice softer now, almost like he was trying not to spook me. “Not with me.”

He wasn’t looking at you like he was about to leave. His eyes were steady, clear. He didn’t look freaked out or like he regretted being here. He just looked… real. Like he meant every word.

 “This is a mess, Rafe. You saw it.”

“I don’t care,” he said, like he needed you to hear him. “I don’t care about any of that. None of it changes how I feel about you. I love you.”

You bit your lip, turning your attention back to the pancakes because if you didn’t, you were afraid you might cry. You weren’t the crying type, but after everything, your dad showing up like that, and Rafe not running for the door—it was a lot. Too much, maybe.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to fix anything,” you said softly, flipping the last pancake and turning off the stove. “You can’t fix my dad or the way things are. I don’t want you to try.”

“I’m not trying to fix anything,” Rafe said, stepping closer to you now. “I’m just… I’m here. With you. That’s all I want.”

You felt his hand brush against yours, hesitant at first, like he wasn’t sure if you were ready to be touched. But when you didn’t pull away, his fingers laced through yours, and the warmth of it broke through the dread thad settled over you since your dad walked in.

Finally, you turned to face him, and there it was—that look in his eyes again. The one that said you were more than enough, that he saw you, really saw you, and wasn’t running for the hills. You knew him like the plam of your hand now, and he wasn’t bluffing. He never lied to you.

Your heart did this weird thing, like it flipped and dropped all at once. It was still a little scary to hear him say that. Scary because it meant he was sticking around, and as much as you it scared that was exactly what you wanted. For him to stay.

Because you loved him just as much, and you didn’t mind reminding him every day.

Milo broke the silence, tugging at your shirt again. “Is time f’pancakes now?”

You couldn’t help but smile at the innocence in his voice, the way he had no idea what had just gone down. You bent down to scoop him up, holding him close, the warmth of his growing body keeping you sane in the moment.

“Yeah, buddy,” you said softly. “It’s time for pancakes.”

Rafe watched you, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. This is why he knew you’d be a good mom one day. He kept that thought in the back of his mind every day since you gave him the bracelet on his wrist.

The way you picked up Milo and smiled—it calmed him down. The whole scene was so you—taking care of things, keeping it together even when everything around you was a mess.

“Eat up, kiddo,” you said, ruffling his hair as he dug in with way too much syrup. 

Then you glanced at Rafe again, your smile still lingering but more reserved, like you were still processing everything.

Milo was halfway through his second pancake, syrup smeared all over his little face, when he looked up at Rafe with those wide, innocent eyes.

“Hey, Rafey, we go park after?”

You were clearing the plates from the counter, and Rafe caught the quick glance you shot his way. You had a shift starting in an hour, and Milo probably knew it too, even if he wasn’t saying it.

He leaned back in his chair, wiping a bit of syrup off Milo’s cheek with the corner of a napkin. “The park, huh? What’re you thinking, swings? Slide?”

Milo grinned, syrup dripping down his chin. “Both! And the big jungle gym! You said I was big enough for it now, 'member?”

He laughed, remembering the time a couple weeks back when Milo had looked at that massive jungle gym like it was Mount Everest, and Rafe told him he was totally ready to conquer it. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

You shot him a look as you grabbed your bag, ready to head out for your shift. “You sure about this?” you asked.

Rafe waved it off. “Yeah, no problem. Milo and I got this.” He grinned at the kid. “We’re gonna hit the park and maybe even stop for some ice cream after if your mom’s cool with it.”

Milo’s face lit up like Christmas morning, and you laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re spoiling him, baby.”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but deep down he liked how easy it felt, like this was where he was supposed to be. “Eh, he deserves it.”

You walked over to where Rafe was still leaning against the counter, and without overthinking it, you leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

“Ewwww!” Milo groaned dramatically, scrunching up his face like he just witnessed the grossest thing ever. “Why do you always gotta kiss him like that?”

You and Rafe both burst out laughing, and Rafe shook his head, ruffling Milo’s hair. “Get used to it, bud,” he said, still smirking. “She’s gonna keep doing that.”

“Not in front of me,” Milo said, still looking completely disgusted but clearly loving the attention. “It’s so gross!”

You grinned and gave Rafe a playful tap on the chest. “Guess we’ll have to start sneaking around now.”

Rafe chuckled, pulling you in for another quick peck. “I can live with that.”

Milo let out an exaggerated groan, dramatically slapping his hands over his eyes. “Ugh! I’m never getting a girlfriend if that’s what you have to do.”

“Good,” you said, shooting him a wink. “No girlfriends until you’re thirty.”

Rafe laughed again, and Milo just sighed, completely over it. “Can we just go to the park now? Please?”

You shook your head, smiling at how easily the moment turned light again. “You two have fun. I’ll see you later.”

You headed out the door, the sound of your nephew still groaning in the background making you smile as you went, promising yourself you’d answer whatever questions Rafe had about your parents, the second you two snuggled up in his bed at night.

[5sospenguinqueen]

Suck My Balls - Kevin Magnussen x Mercedes! Reader

Summary: When you and Kevin collide on track, fans half-expect you to start attacking each other. That’s not… quite how it ends.

Warnings: 18+ after the cut. Male oral. Enemies to lovers. Not an original title but how could I call it anything else 

Requested: No, which makes it worse lol

F1 Masterlist

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

yn_ln just posted

liked by georgerussell63, hulkhulkenberg and others 

yn_ln starting p3 tomorrow, looking forward to going racing. in a position to push for a podium

2,044 comments

mercedesamgf1 that’s our girl! looking forward to a masterclass of overtaking 

georgerussell63 flaunting the gear, are we? yet you make fun of me when i post the tommy

→ yn_ln “flaunting the gear” and “post the tommy” this is why twitter say you have 0 aura

→ georgerussell63 @/mercedesamgf1 she’s being mean again 

→ user i love the 2019 rookies in merc

charles_leclerc you couldn't have gone a little slower and let me on the second row instead? 

→ yn_ln it’s against my contract to help pretty boys 

→ danielricciardo is that why you gave max a tow?

→ maxverstappen1 that was an accident! 

user she’s such a great starter. i bet she ends up leading by the second lap at least 

user yn podium incoming

→ user i think you mean yn win incoming 

→ alex_albon i can feel it in my bones 

→ yn_ln thank you my #1 fan

→ georgerussell63 so you steal my aura and my alex? 

user it’s a shame that yn’s time knocked nico into p11

→ user it's okay because haasband kevin magnussen will be committing war crimes to defend him 

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

f1 posted a new story

18+

A throaty groan filled the room as nimble fingers tugged harshly on cropped blond strands. In response, his lips sucked on the pulse point below your ear. Kevin chuckled against your skin when your hips rolled eagerly against him.

“You’re not supposed to be enjoying this,” you spat, shoving him away from you.

“Skat, I have my thigh between your legs. There’s no way for me to not enjoy this.”

You rolled your eyes at the smug grin on his face, pushing him until the back of his knees hit the edge of the hotel bed. He let himself fall backwards with a soft thud. Tucking an arm behind his head, he watched your eyes track the flex of his bicep with a smug smirk.

“Don’t be an asshole. Or I stop.”

“Now that would be more disappointing than the DNF.” His words trailed off as he choked on his own breath. The palm of your hand pressing down harshly on the bulge in his jeans. “Fucking hell.” He groaned, throwing his head back.

“Do you really want to piss me off right now?”

Kevin lifted his head, blue eyes darkened and pink lips apart, breathing heavily. Your hand moved to the top of his jeans, popping open the button and revealing a glimpse of grey boxers. A dark spot had formed where his tip sat.

“Desperate, are we?”

“Do you ever shut up?” Kevin groaned, pink staining his cheeks.

“Only when my mouth’s full.”

“Then I suggest you get on with it.”

He lifted his hips, helping you to pull the denim down his thighs, giving up once they’d reached his knees. He watched eagerly, holding his breath as your fingertips reached for the waistband of his boxers. He squirmed when your fingers skimmed his stomach. His boxers are pulled down, freeing his cock. It slaps against his stomach, thick and heavy. The cool air paired with the way you’re looking at him sends goosebumps rippling across his thighs.

A stuttered breath left his lips when your hand wrapped around him. Slowly working him, you sink to your knees between his legs. Your hair tickles his thighs when you lean down to press a kiss to the bottom of his stomach.

“Don’t be such a tease,” he hissed.

You ignored him, trailing open-mouthed kisses down his thigh all whilst your hand pumped him. Your tongue licked a stripe up his balls, enjoying the way his body jolted beneath you.

“Fuck,” he grunted when you took his balls in your mouth, sucking slightly. You chuckled against him, sending vibrations through his balls. “Oh, shit.”

Your tongue trailed a line from his balls, up the underside of his shaft before wrapping your lips around his tip. Looking up, your eyes connected with his just as you sucked. Enjoying the way his head tipped back, you took more of him into your mouth before pulling back up. His hips bucked up, chasing your lips. Hollowing your cheeks, you bobbed up and down. His abs clenched when your tongue traced his slit, and you were rewarded with a throaty groan from Kevin. His hand reached for the back of your head, tangling in your hair. He hesitated for a moment, waiting for you to pull back. Pulling back up, your lips sucked gently on the head of his cock.

“You’re so beautiful.” Kevin whispered, pushing a strand of hair back from your face.

Using his hold on your hair, he pushed your head down further. His cock hit the back of your throat, and you gagged slightly. Your hand continued to pump what you couldn't reach with your mouth. Allowing Kevin to control the pace, you relaxed your jaw, taking more of him in when he pushed you down again.

“Shit, you’re so good at that. I’m so close.”

Encouraged, you suck harder, hand reaching down to cup his balls. With a slight squeeze, you let Kevin push your head down once more as he releases with a loud curse. Thick white ropes of cum paint your tongue, leaking from the side of your mouth.

“Oh, god. Oh, fuck. So good.” Kevin whimpered, sensitive as your mouth slid off him.

Hair dishevelled, cheeks pink, mouth wide open, looking spent and satisfied. You decided you could get used to this sight of Kevin.

“I told you that you’d like that.”

Before you could laugh at your own joke, you felt the world spin and your back landed on the white sheets. An involuntary wince escaped you, body bruised from your earlier crash. Kevin immediately scrambled back, off your body.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I forgot- and it’s my fault-“

Your arms reached out for him, yanking until he lost his balance, almost collapsing atop you. His arms fell beside your head, bracing him.

“Shut up. You’re not here to be nice. If I wanted nice, I’d have asked your teammate.”

“He couldn’t fuck you like I can.”

“Prove it.”

And, as Kevin reached down to yank your leggings away, a darkness in his eyes, you knew he would.

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

yn_ln just posted

liked by kevinmagnussen, francisca.cgomes and others 

yn_ln it’s a shame some people don’t have better reaction times but the main take away from this weekend is that i’m okay. a little bruised and a lot disappointed. now for a little girly self care 

2,750 comments

landonorris oh god, my eyes (puke)

georgerussell63 blimey, warn a man first. not what i wanted to see 

→ yn_ln "blimey?" do you need to calm your nerves with a spot of tea?

alex_albon treat yourself, girly 

user i love how the 2019 rookies are together

→ user alex being the only supportive one

mercedesamgf1 we’ll see you on that top step soon enough, yn 

user not k mag liking this post whilst she shades him in the caption

→ user can you blame him. she’s thirst trapping

→ user he probably saw people on twitter talking about it and came to drool 

user being a passenger princess is the ultimate form of self care

alexandrasaintmleux loving the aesthetic 

→ user even the man?

→ alexandrasaintmleux especially 

charles_leclerc is the bath a good place to cry?

→ yn_ln yes

→ charles_leclerc can you show me how to make one like that?

→ yn_ln also yes. on my way 

lilymhe okay, i see you. treating yourself in more ways than one

→ yn_ln it definitely was more than one way 

→ landonorris filth!

user why aren’t more people freaking out about the fact that there is clearly a man touching her???

→ user thank you! like who is he? is this a soft launch or just miss thing flaunting the fact that she probably got railed after the grand prix

user anyone else think that tattoo looks a lot like kevin’s?

(picture 3 has been deleted) 

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

Requests are open

No tags because this is smut and I don't know if all of you are comfortable with that :)

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

hii I don’t know if you are doing requests but if you are could you please do one with toto Wolff x wife reader where she’s just given birth and her in-laws make fun of her or give her mean comments and she gets all upset but doesn’t tell toto to keep the family peace but he finds out and gets a tad upset at her for hiding it but he rips his family a new one please please!!

Unconditional Support

Word Count: 999

Pairing: Toto Wolff x wife!reader

Summary: Y/n shares her vulnerability after giving birth, revealing the hurtful comments from Toto's family that make her question her worth, prompting Toto to confront them with fierce protectiveness

I don't speak Polish so if something isn't right pleas let me know so i can change it.

Also my requests are still open

______________________________________________________________

Toto stood at the window, the hospital room filled with a serene quiet. You rocked the baby gently in your arms, trying to focus on the peaceful moment, but your mind kept drifting back to the things his family had said. Every comment felt like a dagger, cutting deeper than you’d let yourself admit. You’d spent so much time second-guessing your own reactions, wondering if you were being too sensitive—just like your ex-friends and ex-boyfriend had always claimed.

But this felt different. You had just given birth. You were vulnerable, exposed, and instead of support, all you got was veiled judgment.

Toto turned around, sensing your unease. He crossed the room in a few strides, sitting beside you on the bed, his hand resting on your knee. "What’s wrong?" he asked softly, his dark eyes filled with concern. "You’re not yourself."

You tried to smile, to push it down, but the weight of it all was pressing on you too hard. "I don’t know," you whispered. "I don’t want to make it a big deal. Maybe I’m overthinking things. Maybe I’m just being sensitive."

Toto frowned, his grip on your knee tightening slightly. "Sensitive about what?"

You hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. But the memory of Eva’s voice, sharp and critical, wouldn’t leave your mind.

"Your mom…" you started slowly, "she said, *‘Ach, du siehst müde aus’* (Oh, you look tired), and I know I *am* tired, but the way she said it—it wasn’t just concern. It was like I was already failing somehow. Like I should be doing more, looking better. I’ve just had a baby, and instead of asking how I feel, she’s telling me I look bad."

Toto’s jaw clenched, but you continued, the words pouring out now.

"And then Katharina, she didn’t even say congratulations before she looked me up and down and said, *‘You’ll want to lose the baby weight quickly, right? There’s a Pilates instructor in Vienna…’* I know I’ve gained weight—of course I have, I just carried a child—but she made me feel like it’s a race to get rid of it. Like my worth is tied to how fast I look ‘normal’ again."

Your voice wavered, but you pushed on. "And Margit—she took the baby right out of my hands and said, *‘Das ist nicht richtig. Soll ich es dir zeigen?’* (That’s not right. Should I show you?) I was trying my best, and she acted like I didn’t even know how to hold my own baby. I already feel like I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, and she just made me feel… useless."

Toto stood up, his face dark with anger. He started pacing, his fists clenching and unclenching. "Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?" he demanded, his voice sharp. "Why did you let them say those things to you?"

"I didn’t want to cause problems," you said quietly, your gaze dropping to the floor. "I thought… maybe I was just seeing it wrong, like I always do. Maybe I was interpreting everything too negatively again. But the more I think about it, the more I realize… it wasn’t okay. They made me feel small. Like I wasn’t good enough."

Toto stopped pacing, his expression hardening. "You were right. They were out of line. I’m not letting this slide."

Before you could stop him, he grabbed his phone, his fingers flying over the screen as he found his mother’s number.

"Toto, wait," you pleaded, "don’t make this worse—"

But his face was set, determined. He brought the phone to his ear, speaking in rapid Polish as soon as his mother picked up. "Mamo, musimy porozmawiać." (Mom, we need to talk.)

You could hear the faint sound of his mother’s voice on the other end, but Toto’s expression didn’t soften.

"Nie, nie później. Teraz." (No, not later. Now.)

He glanced at you, his eyes blazing with a protective fury. "Dlaczego mówili takie rzeczy do Y/n?" (Why did they say those things to Y/n?) His voice was cold, demanding answers.

You watched, feeling torn between relief and anxiety as Toto continued to tear into his mother over the phone. You couldn’t understand everything, but the tone was unmistakable—he was furious, and he wasn’t going to let this slide. He paced back and forth, his voice low and dangerous as he spoke in quick bursts of Polish, likely recounting every hurtful comment you had shared with him.

After a few moments, his voice softened slightly, but his anger was still clear. "Nie obchodzi mnie, czy miały dobre intencje. Nie pozwolę, żeby tak traktowali moją żonę." (I don’t care if they meant well. I won’t let them treat my wife like that.)

He paused, listening to his mother’s response, before he sighed, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration. "To musi się skończyć. Teraz." (This has to stop. Now.)

He hung up the phone, his face still tense, and turned back to you. "I’ve told them," he said, his voice softer now but still firm. "They won’t be speaking to you like that again."

You looked down, guilt flooding through you. "I didn’t mean for this to turn into a big thing…"

Toto knelt beside the bed, taking your hand in his. "It’s not your fault. They were out of line, and you deserve better. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner."

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. "I just didn’t want to cause problems. I was so scared I was overreacting."

Toto cupped your face gently, his thumb wiping away a tear that slipped down your cheek. "You’re not overreacting. You’re not being too sensitive. You’re my wife, the mother of our child, and no one gets to make you feel less than the incredible woman you are. Not even my family."

You let out a shaky breath, finally feeling the weight of their comments lift just a little. You had doubted yourself, but Toto was making sure you’d never have to doubt him.

[carringtonsgirl]

BETTER

M.STURNIOLO

in which chris accuses his girlfriend of wanting to fuck his brother so she does just that.

warnings: cheating,matt with the belt,p in v,sextape,creampie.

nothing more that matt hated then his brother stealing the girl he was first interested in just to be a total dick to her.

matts brother chris was dating y/n. they have been together for five months now. matt was interested in the girl first but then his brother had to go and snatch her from him. she was never his in the first place but still.

the two brothers had met the girl from their triplet brother nick. the two had been friends since they moved to la. they met at a influencer party and have been inseparable ever since.

matt instantly started feeling something for the girl when she started to come around more often. her and him were somewhat close but not as close as her and nick.

chris knew that matt felt something for the girl and yet he still went after her just to end up treating her bad.

the first month or two chris and y/n were dating it was perfect,he treated her good and the sex was good but for the past two months now chris completely changed. he would constantly blow her off when she tried to make plans with him and he would constantly argue with her and accuse her of cheating(he was the one who was cheating.)the only time they weren’t arguing is when they were fucking which wasnt often.

right now the girl was hanging out with nick chris and matt. they were all in the car currently on their way back to the triplets house from going out to dinner.

the car ride back to their house was strangely quiet and all that could be heard was the music that chris was playing.

dinner went good until chris opened his mouth and went on a rampage about something the girl did that pissed him off. matts jaw was clenched the whole ride back to their house.

he didn’t understand why chris was dating her if he was gonna be mean to her all the time. she deserved better, and matt was better.

as soon as they got home matt pulled into the garage parking the car and chris instantly got out and stormed inside the house slamming the door behind him.

“im gonna go talk to him.” the girl said softly.

matt sighed as she got out going inside after chris. he wishes she would just leave him.

nick noticed that matt seemed like something was bothering him so he spoke up. “you okay?”nick asked.

“i just don’t understand chris.” matt said as he was clenching his jaw.

“i know i dont understand it either, i know hes our brother but he shouldnt be treating y/n like that.” nick said.

“its so fucking stupid.” matt said as he got out of the car walking inside.

all that could be heard when walking into the house was chris yelling along with a slam of a door.

“i dont understand why you act so fucking perfect y/n! you piss me the fuck off so much and you wonder why i treat you the way i fucking do!” chris yelled.

the girl stood there not saying a word to him because she knew if she did he would be getting a reaction out of her and she didnt want him to think he has that control over her but she decided to end up speaking up for herself.

“chris i dont understand what your problem is” she said calmly.

“you dont understand what MY PROBLEM is? have you seen yourself have you seen the fucking way you look at matt!?” chris said rolling his eyes.

“what way do i look at him chris? hes a FRIEND”she said.

“no y/n clearly hes more than that!” chris yelled.

“what the fuck ever im not gonna sit here and argue with you all because your jealous of your own brother.” she said as she started to walk out the room.

“whatever you’re probably just gonna go fuck matt or something.” chris said.

“maybe i fucking will.” she said as she walked out of his room.

‧˚♡彡

matt was sitting on the living room when he saw the girl walking up the steps from chris’ room.

“hey. you okay?” he asked.

she nodded as she came over and sat down on the couch a inch or two apart from him.

“chris is just going on a big rampage on how apparently i wanna fuck you.” the girl said.

matts face lit up with amusement as he heard the words that came out of her mouth but suddenly a small smirk came onto his face.

“well do you?” he asked as he made eye contact with her.

“matt..im with your brother.” she said looking at him.

“i know baby but i promise i could fuck you so much better then he can.” matt said as he scooted closer to her.

as much as the girl denied it she often found herself thinking how it would be like to fuck matt. she would get herself off sometimes while thinking about his head inbetween her thighs or him pounding into her from behind.

“but only if you let me.” matt said as he was now inches away from her face.

the girl thought about it for a second she knew it was wrong to do chris that way but she couldnt help but want matt to be deep inside of her.

“please.”she said as she smashed her lips onto his kissing him softly.

matt kissed her back as he pulled her onto his lap wrapping his hands around her waist.

“thats all you had to say baby.” matt said as he held her as he stood up walking to his room.

matt carefully shut the door behind him making sure to lock it before placing her down on the bed.

he slid off her shirt then matt took his shirt off and hovered back over the girl kissing her softly.

the kiss instantly grew heated as matt was grinding his bulge against the girls aching core causing her to whimper into his mouth as her hands were tangled in his hair.

matt reached his hand down sliding it underneath her skirt dipping his hand into her panties feeling her aching wet cunt.

matt pulled away from the kiss and whispered into the girls ear. “so wet just f’me huh?” matt said causing her to whimper as he started to rub her clit.

“gonna make you feel so good baby.” he said as he started to kiss on her neck.

she whimpered as he slipped two of his fingers into her wet cunt and thrusting them into her at a fast pace.

he grabbed her throat with his freehand kissing her roughly as he was fingering her as she was moaning into his mouth.

he suddenly pulled out his fingers and bent her over the bed slipping her panties and skirt off of her.

he unbuckles his pants sliding off the belt and grabbing her wrists and tying them together with his belt.

he slid off his pants and grabbed her pulling her to the edge of the bed and slamming into her.

he thrusted into her at a fast pace as she was moaning loudly. he chuckled at how quick she became a mess.

“yeah? you like going dumb on your boyfriends brothers cock huh?” he groaned as he slapped her ass.

“mhmmmmm” she moaned out not being able to form sentences because all she could think about was his cock fucking her dumb.

“such a fucking whore, might have to call chris so he can hear how much of a whore his girlfriend is for my cock.” matt said as he reached to grab his phone.

he smirked as he clicked on his brothers name calling him.

[PHONE CALL]

“what matt”

“your girlfriend is such a good fuck”

“matt dont fucking play with me.”

“im not dont you hear how dumb she is right now?”

“you wouldn’t fucking do me like that”

“what? you mad i can dick her down better then you can.”

“oh fuck matt right there”

“you’re just fucking some random y/n went back to her house because we argued”

“whatever you say buddy”

matt ended the call with a satisfied smirk.his thrusts never faltering as he continued to pound into her. the girl was moaning uncontrollably, her body responding to every move he made.

“see, baby? even chris heard how i can fuck you better.” matt whispered against her ear, his voice dripping with arrogance and lust.

she could only nod, her mind too clouded with pleasure to form any coherent words. matts pace quickened, his grip on her hips tightening as he brought them both closer to the edge.

“gonna cum for me baby? cum all over my cock?” matt growled his own release approaching fast as he took the belt off of her wrists.

the girl could only moan in response.her body trembling as she felt the intense pleasure build up inside her. matts pace became relentless driving her closer and closer to the edge.

"thats it baby. cum all over my dick youve been such a good girl.”matt said as he grabbed the belt spanking her with it a few times.

with one final thrust, the girl cried out, her body convulsing as she reached her peak. the sensation was overwhelming, waves of pleasure crashing over her.

matt followed soon after groaning deeply as he released inside her. his grip on her hips tightening momentarily.

he felt himself cumming deep inside of her as he grabbed his phone recording him slowly pulling out of her with the mixture of their cum oozing out.

he leaned against her as he put his phone in her face, showing how fucked out she was. swollen lips, hair stuck to her face from sweating looking all fucked out.

“i fuck you better then chris huh baby?” he smirked as she nodded in response.

“words baby.” he said.

“you fuck me so much better then chris” she said all fucked out.

with that he ended the video clicking on his brothers contact name.

matt: *one attachment sent*

matt: all fucked out by me.

chris: fuck you matt.

matt: maybe if you treated her right she wouldnt of done this but clearly im better.

he smirked as he laid beside the girl pulling her into his arms. he started rubbing on her body as he kissed her forehead.

he cuddled her til they both fell asleep, not knowing that chris was about to come and rudely awake them.

[eggyrocks]

ENCOUNTERS

00 prologue: dumped

All Suna wants is a relaxing, post-show cigarette in the parking lot. But that girl’s fighting with her boyfriend again.

For as long as they’ve been a band, she’s been coming to their shows . And as long as she’s been coming to their shows, she’s been fighting with her boyfriend at them. The same boyfriend every time too, the gangly looking one with the constantly messed-up hair.

He flicks the end of his lighter, watching as she takes several steps back from him, laughing in indignation, throwing up her arms up in exasperation. The boyfriend’s just standing there, outside the driver’s seat of his idling car.

They always fight about stupid shit. The boyfriend’s controlling. She likes to do whatever she wants. He yells at her about lying about where she was going for the night. She yells back about him going through her phone. Honestly, Suna’s not even sure why the two of them are still together. It seems like they really, really fucking hate each other.

He can hear a bit of what she’s screaming now, something about not trusting her or respecting her individuality and him shooting back that she’s done nothing to earn his trust, and she has no personality outside of liking this stupid fucking band.

Suna inhales and crosses his arms over his chest. He’s not sure why he’s getting dragged into it.

Honestly, he figures he should probably count his losses with the cigarette and go back inside, let them have it out like they normally do alone, in the privacy of this empty venue parking lot. But his morbid curiosity gets the better of him, and he stays, watching aptly as they tear each other’s throats out.

And, oddly, he kinda feels compelled to stick around, to make sure she ends up okay. He doesn’t know anything about her really, and he hardly remembers her name half the time, but her unrelenting dedication to his band has kind of earned some loyalty in return.

Enough for him to stick outside and keep an eye on her while her boyfriend loses his mind.

Suna watches as he turns away from her, and flings open the backseat of his car. He watches as she yells out, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” and he watches as the boyfriend pulls out three, large, overflowing duffle bags and deposits them at her feet, despite her protests.

And then, he gets in his car and drives away.

His loyalty is being tested.

All Suna can think about as he approaches her is how badly he does not want to. But she’s collapsed now, sitting on top of her pile of duffle bags and sobbing, right there in the middle of the parking lot. Plus, if Kiyoko found out he left a crying girl alone in the parking lot, she’d probably skin him. So he drops his cigarette to the ground and snuffs it out with the heel of his shoe. “Hey,” he greets, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

She looks up, wet eyes wide and covered in smudged, black makeup. She inhales sharply. It could pass for a hiccup. “Oh, hey. Good show tonight,” she sniffles.

“Yeah, thank” Suna nods, looking at the ground beside her instead of directly at her. He feels strange standing above her like he is, so he kneels, weight on the balls of his feet. “Are, erm, are you okay?”

She blinks, and hiccups again. At least her crying’s slowed. “Um, no, not really. I just got dumped, and also, like evicted, I’m pretty sure.”

Suna looks at the bags underneath her. “This all your stuff?”

“Most of it, I think.”

“Okay,” Suna starts, trying to come up with anything useful or productive, “so, can you like, call a friend to stay at their place for now or something? I don’t think I wanna leave with you just like, here.”

Her eyes start to water again, and Suna immediately feels like he’s done something wrong. “No, not really. I mean, my old roommates got new places out of the city and I don’t know who they live with or even where and my other friends all live together in a two bedroom but there’s three of them and I couldn’t even stay in there if I tried because there’s no room, and I don’t like my mom and I guess I could ask this one friend but I know she won’t answer and I don’t know where I’m going to stay and I’m kind of-“

“Okay,” Suna cuts her off, dread already forming in his stomach. Because he cannot, in good conscience, leave a crying girl in the middle of a parking lot. He cannot let her just figure it out on her own. So he knows what’s coming next. He sighs and stands upright. Fuck, he better get some good karma for this. “Do you wanna stay at my place for the night?”

taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @needtoloveoutloud @causenessus @kawaii-angelanne @thatonecroc @v1oletfury @lonesomedrive @nnnyxie @bakery-anon @cheriisae @chososcamgirl @honeyfewr @soulfullystarry @snail-squasher @angee444 @itsdragonius @lees-chaotic-brain @miiyas @atsumuenthusiast @iluv-ace @cupidsblonde @tetsuswhore @soobin1437 @starkyu @bakugouswh0r3 @wakashudou @softpia @phoenix-eclipses @angelichwv @rory-cakes @bbybibi @lllaw @kameyyy @sleepzyy @s1ckntw1st3d @savemebrazilhinata @whorefornoodles @keeboismine @angsty-microwave @cyberpsychedelic @v3nusplanetofluv @darkandstarrynight @lunasfics @miss-manupilative @t8tiana @bzzahbee @evening-latte @Rebirthbunny @rvm1ne

[katebishopsbaefy]

Shoot Me

billie eilish x reader

𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚

summary: you and billie both get your periods at the same time and are the definition of miserable

word count: 1219

You roll over with a groan, pressing your face back into your girlfriend’s side, clutching your stomach. You feel her arms wrap around you. She obviously wanted to feel you as much as you wanted to feel her.

You and Billie had been unfortunate enough to get your periods at the same time, so now here you lay, sprawled on your bed, clutching your stomachs, groaning occasionally. Somehow you’d managed to not only lose track of your heating pads, but you’d also completely run out of pain relief medication, and neither of you felt well enough to drive to the store to get some.

Billie gently kisses your forehead when you press into her. She grunts as she reaches one arm over to the nightstand to check her phone, muttering out a low “shit” upon seeing the many texts and missed calls from her brother, who she was supposed to meet up with today.

You rub your eye and look up at her. “What’s wrong?” you mumble.

She swings her arm back over to hug you tighter, deciding to deal with Finneas later. “Nothing,” she whispers, starting to rub your back. You hum at the touch. “How’re you feeling?”

You grumble out something about feeling like shit, but it comes out muffled due to your face pressing further into her. Your hand finds its way underneath her loose t-shirt in search of more comfort.

This time, she hums at your touch. The weight of you laying on top of her serves as a weighted blanket, and although it’s comfortable, it doesn’t do much for her cramps. “This sucks,” she states. You hum in agreement.

Your short conversation is interrupted by multiple aggressive dings from her phone. She groans again and reaches back over, checking the new texts from her brother.

“Who’s that?” you ask.

She lets out a huff. “Finneas,” she mumbles, “I forgot I was s’pposed to meet up with him today.”

You whine and grip her tighter in response. “Mmm, don’t leave me.”

“I don’t think I could go anywhere even if I wanted to,” she says, giggling quietly at you.

She hadn’t realized that she forgot to respond to him yet again, getting distracted by you, until the sudden alarm of her ringtone and buzzing of her phone forces her to finally respond. You both jump at the sound before she answers. You can hear a faint “hello???” from the other end.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to ignore you,” Billie says, exhaustion lacing her voice. “I’ve been asleep all day, me and y/n have the worst cramps ever.” She shifts a little and waits for Finneas to respond. “Actually yeah, that would be super helpful if you have time.” Another pause. “Can I send you a list?” Short pause. “Okay, great, see you later.”

The loss of her warmth makes you groan as she flips you off of her to sit up. “What’d he say?” you ask.

“He said he has some time, so he’s gonna pick some stuff up for us,” she responds. Taking your shared blanket with her, she gets out of bed. You groan for probably the 500th time, but she ignores you and grabs your arm, effectively dragging you out of bed too. “Come on, we’re gonna go sit on the couch.”

“Just shoot me instead,” you mumble. You clutch your pillow to your stomach and trudge your way down the hall with her to the living room. 

She laughs at your remark. “At least we get more time to hang out,” she says, gently bumping her hip with yours. You smile at her and bump her back.

It feels like an hour has passed by the time you make it to the couch. You flop down, immediately leaning into Billie’s side, and you feel her do the same. She sits up for a moment to wrap you in the blanket again before snuggling back into you. “Wanna watch something?” she asks, to which you shrug, and she flicks on a random channel.

You completely lose track of time sitting with her. You have no idea what show’s playing, being too distracted by her hands, which you had taken into your lap. Fingers laced together, palms pressed, her warm hands warming up your cold ones. You’re so spaced out playing with her fingers that you don’t realize you’re starting to fall asleep until she giggles at you.

“Sleepy?” she asks. You look up at her, noticing her eyes starting to droop as well.

“No,” you whisper, reaching a hand up point at her jokingly, “are you?” She shakes her head.

At some point, you had both begun to shift around, so uncomfortable from your cramps. When Finneas arrives at your place, he finds you passed out, sprawled on one side of the couch, gripping your pillow. Billie hogs the blanket on the other side, and your heads meet in the corner. He smiles and snaps a quick picture to send to you later. 

He quietly makes his way over to your kitchen, careful not to make too much noise with his bags. Ice cream, chocolate, and other comfort foods are unloaded into the fridge. Despite how quiet he tries to be, the soft rustling is enough to wake Billie, who quickly sits up and pads over to him, dragging her blanket behind her. “Hey, you don’t have to do that,” she says quietly.

He shakes his head. “It’s fine. Go sit back down.”

“But I feel bad,” she mutters. She plops down onto a seat at the kitchen island, resting her head on her arms.

Finneas slides her a container of pain medication over the table, which she gratefully accepts, downing a couple of pills. “If you wanna do something…” he says, rifling through the bags, “go pop these in the microwave for a minute.” He pulls out two stuffed animals, unzipping them from the back to take out the pad to be heated up. Billie audibly sighs at the sight.

“Oh my God, you’re literally a life saver,” she breathes. After heating them up, she makes her way back over to the couch, where you’re still sound asleep.

“Y/n,” she whispers, gently rubbing your shoulder to wake you up. Your eyes flutter open and you smile at her. “Hi, my love. I’ll trade you,” she says, referring to the pillow you’re still clutching. You gratefully switch with her, pulling the stuffed toy to your stomach and letting out a breath at the relief it provided. “Better?” she asks, kissing your forehead softly as your eyes close again.

You hum. “Thank you,” you say to her, and, louder this time, “thanks, Finneas.”

He and Billie talk for a little longer, deciding to make up the work they were supposed to do another day, and she thanks him excessively, to which he shrugs every time. Then he leaves, leaving the two of you alone again.

As she sits back down, she pulls your head into her lap. Her hand in your hair, yours on her back underneath her shirt. A few short minutes later, your fingers stop tracing patterns into her skin, and she knows you’d fallen back to sleep. She scoots around, getting more comfortable before falling asleep too.

No matter how shitty you felt, she always made you feel better.

[foreverisntenough]

‘Act II’

Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Chapter 10 - A Little Lost | ‘Act II’

word count - 10k

Since the day you left Madrid, Jude had been carrying a small notebook with him everywhere he went. At first, it was just a place to spill his thoughts, a space to process the whirlwind of emotions he didn’t know how to navigate. But as soon as he wrote the first sentence, he realized that every thought, every feeling, was meant for you. The notebook became his way of speaking to you when he couldn’t, of telling you everything he had kept inside for far too long. It started with small things—mundane moments that he would’ve shared with you if you were still in his life. He wrote about away games, detailing flights that were rough with turbulence, knowing you would’ve hated them. You’d always been nervous during flights, especially when the plane shook, and he could so vividly imagine holding your hand, comforting you in that quiet, intimate way only he knew how. He wrote about a brand event he had to attend, the kind you would’ve loved. He pictured you in a stunning dress, his hand instinctively resting on the small of your back as all the people in the room transfixed on your smile and envied him. He missed the way your presence made even the dullest of events shine. But as time passed, the pages of the notebook filled with more than just small anecdotes. They became love letters—confessions he hadn’t been brave enough to say out loud. He wrote about his dreams, both the silly ones and the ones that left him aching. He told you about the night he dreamed of you in his arms, just like before, and how waking up without you felt like losing you all over again. He confessed to arguments with his teammates, like the one he had with Toby, and how in the heat of it all, he had just wanted to call you and vent, knowing you’d calm him down. He wrote about his mum, how she missed you. How she’d bring you up every now and then, asking if you were doing okay, her voice full of concern. His heart would clench every time because he didn’t know. He didn’t know if you were okay, and that uncertainty gnawed at him more than he cared to admit. But most of all, the notebook became a testament to how much he loved you. Page after page, he poured his heart out in ways he never had the courage to do while you were still together. He wrote about how he should have told you how much you meant to him when he had the chance. How he regretted every fight, every misstep, every moment he let you slip away. He described the exact moment he realized he was in love with you—how it hit him like a freight train, and how terrified he was of it. And yet, despite his fear, the feeling never left. If anything, it grew stronger with every passing day, every page he filled. There were entries where he simply wrote your name over and over, as if seeing it on the page made you feel closer to him. Others were longer, detailing his apologies—how sorry he was for everything. For not being brave enough, for letting his insecurities come between you, for pushing you away when all he wanted was to pull you closer. And then, there were the moments when his love for you spilled out uncontrollably, when he wrote about how much he still needed you. How he missed your laughter, your voice, the way your presence made everything feel right. He missed the feeling of your hand in his, the sound of your breathing when you slept next to him, the way you’d nudge him playfully when he teased you. Every small detail that made up your relationship was etched into those pages—his heart laid bare, vulnerable, and raw. Jude carried the notebook like a lifeline, as if each word he wrote to you was a tether, keeping him connected to you in some way. Even though he wasn’t sure if you’d ever read them, he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop writing to you, telling you all the things he should have said while you were still his. There was one night, after a particularly bad game, where he sat alone in his hotel room, staring at the notebook. His hands trembled as he picked up the pen, the words spilling out faster than he could think. ‘I love you,’ he wrote, the words stark on the page. 

'I love you more than I know how to explain. And I’m terrified I’ll never get the chance to tell you that now. In my dreams you’re touching my face and asking me if I want to try again.'

It was the truest thing he’d ever written in that book. As the days passed, the notebook filled with his deepest fears, his sincerest apologies, and his undying love. And every time he flipped through the pages, he could feel you there, even though you were so far away. Even though you hadn’t spoken in what felt like forever. It was the only way he knew how to keep you close, even as the distance between you grew wider with every passing day. He just hoped, somehow, some way, that you’d feel it too. That maybe, one day, he could find the courage to give you the notebook, to let you see how much you had always meant to him. But for now, it was his silent confession, his love letter to the one person he couldn’t forget. There were nights when Jude found himself staring at the ceiling, the quiet of his room almost suffocating. He had the notebook nearby, as always, full of the thoughts he wished he could share with you, the words he never got to say. But tonight, it wasn't enough to just write. He missed you physically, emotionally, in every way imaginable. And though he had been longing for the closeness that came with sex, it wasn't just about that. It was the intimacy, the connection, the way your body pressed against his felt like home. The way, in those quiet moments, it was more than just physical-it was how you anchored him, how you made him feel understood and whole. Tonight, though, one memory in particular replayed over and over in his mind.

It was just after your holiday in Greece, the first time you came with him to Madrid. Everything had been easy then, carefree. Nothing had happened yet-none of the arguments, none of the jealousy, none of the heartbreak. In retrospect, Jude realized he should've known even then how special you were to him, but at the time, it had all seemed so light, so effortless. He remembered the day like it was yesterday. The sun had been scorching, golden light spilling over the back garden as you lounged by the pool, the scent of suncream and chlorine in the air. You were glowing in that tiny bikini, the one that had him doing double takes every time you moved. But it wasn't just the way you looked-though you were undeniably stunning-it was the way your laughter filled the space between you. The way it made his heart skip a beat every time you smiled, the kind of smile that reached your eyes and lit up your entire face. You'd been teasing him, like you always did, a playful gleam in your eyes as you suddenly jumped up and ran, your laughter trailing behind you. Jude remembered watching you, a mixture of joy and something deeper-something he couldn't quite put into words yet-bubbling up inside him as he chased after you. The way your skin shimmered in the sunlight, turning a different kind of gold, made his breath catch. He remembered how his hands finally caught your waist, pulling you close, your laughter turning into something softer as you pressed your lips to his neck. It was in that moment, as he held you close by the pool, your bodies slick with water and heat, that Jude had felt something shift inside him. He hadn't known what it was then-maybe he had been too afraid to name it—but he could feel it now. The way your lips on his skin felt like a fire he would gladly burn for. A fire he would willingly let consume him, over and over again. He hadn't realized it then, but it was already happening.

As he lay in bed, Jude dropped his head back into the pillow, the weight of that memory making his chest ache. He wished he could go back to that very moment-to feel the simplicity of it again, to hear your giggle echoing in his back garden as you tried to escape him, only for him to catch you and pull you back into his arms. He wanted to be back there, in the sunshine with you, before everything became so complicated. Before he messed it all up. He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair, frustrated at the fact that you were so far away. He missed you more than he knew how to express, and on nights like these, he felt that loss in the deepest parts of himself. It wasn't just the physical distance-it was the emotional chasm that had grown between you, a gap he didn't know how to bridge. As the memory faded, Jude reached for the notebook again, flipping to a blank page. He began to write, the pen moving across the paper as he tried to capture that feeling, that moment with you, in words. Maybe one day he'd find a way to share it with you. Maybe one day, you'd know how much that memory meant to him, how much you meant to him. But for now, it was just another secret confession, scrawled in ink, tucked away in the pages of a notebook that was quickly becoming a record of everything he was too late to say. He closed his eyes, the image of you in that bikini, laughing as you ran from him, still fresh in his mind. The ache in his chest lingered, wishing for just one more chance to hold you, to feel your warmth, to make you laugh again. He laid there for a moment and as much his heart was aching… something else began to ache. Jude couldn’t get the image of you in that bikini out of his mind. He couldn’t get the images of him taking it off you out of his mind. 

As the scorching Spanish sun beat down on the pool in the back garden, laughter and desire intertwined.  You found yourself in a playful mood, donning a skimpy bikini that showcased your gorgeous figure—a sight that immediately captured Jude's attention. He stood tall by the pool, his athletic build glistening with a light sheen of sweat. His tanned skin, a golden hue, contrasted beautifully with his deep brown eyes, which at the moment were fixed on you with unapologetic desire. With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you teased him, running around the pool deck, your laughter echoing across the garden. The game of cat and mouse began, and Jude, eager to catch his prey, gives chase. You giggled as you darted between the sun loungers, feeling the warmth of the stone beneath your bare feet. His footsteps closed in on you, and just as he reached out to grab you, you let out a playful squeal. Jude's strong arms wrapped around your waist, and you found yourself enveloped in his embrace. He pulled you close, your bodies pressing together, the heat between you intensifying. You wiggled playfully, feeling the hardness of his muscular body against your soft curves. His hands roamed freely, exploring your back, sending shivers down your spine.

"Gotcha, angel!" Jude whispered into your ear, his hot breath sending a delightful tingle down your neck. You squirmed in his grasp, a perfect mix of anticipation and excitement coursing through your veins. He tightened his hold, lifting you effortlessly off the ground and carrying you towards one of the plush pool loungers nearby. Gently, he laid you down, his eyes never leaving yours. The intensity of his gaze sent a jolt of arousal through your body. You reached up, running your hands over his hair, gripping it, pulling him closer for a kiss. His lips claimed yours passionately, and you responded eagerly, your tongues dancing in a sensual rhythm. As the kiss deepened, Jude's hands wandered, He untangled the ties of your bikini top with skilled fingers. He pulled away slightly, his eyes sparkling with lust, and then slowly he moved his lips down your body, using his teeth to untie the knot, sending a thrill through you. Your tits spilled into his waiting hands. He worshiped them with his touch, squeezing and caressing your sensitive nipples. Moans of pleasure escaped your lips as his skilled fingers worked magic, driving you to the brink of ecstasy. He lent down, replacing his fingers with his warm mouth, suckling your nipples and leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach. Your hands grasped his shoulders, urging him closer, craving the feeling of his skin against yours. Jude's hands traveled lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your bikini bottoms. He hooked his fingers and slid them down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to his hungry gaze and the Madrid air. The cool breeze brushing against your heated skin, causing goosebumps to rise. His name fell from your lips in a hoarse moan the moment you felt his fingers running through your wet folds. With his fingers between your legs now, you were practically dripping for him. You looked at him with your jaw slacked and lidded eyes. He unraveled you with each movement.  His fingers making quick work sinking knuckles deep inside you. His fingers hit the perfect spot inside you with every thrust and curl of their tips. Your back arching uncontrollably. A puddle on the surface of the chair you were laying on formed, your juices running down his hand. The way his breath felt against your sin as he kissed it and the force of his fingers, it all had you rushing towards your orgasm. You whimpered with gasps of air. Your pussy was absolutely soaked but you couldn’t think, your mind had gone blank.  

“Let go, baby. Be a good girl f’me. Cum f’me.” Jude said sternly instructing you and you wasted no time at all. Your orgasm was never ending. He persistently kept his fingers at work inside of you, slowing slightly but drawing your high out.  “Good girl. So fucking good f’me.” Jude cooed as you attempted to hold onto his muscular arm to prevent him from moving any more. He gave way and removed his fingers as he kissed your lips with his before he drew away and forcefully pushed his thumb in between your lips. You willingly opened them for him and looked at him doe eyed and desperate for more. He kept your lips agape as he slowly spit into your mouth before hungrily kissing you again. Jude wrapped your legs around his waist. He positioned himself between your thighs, his hard length pressing against your soft core. You arched your back again desperate, inviting him to take what felt rightfully his. With one swift motion, he entered you, filling you with a delicious fullness. The sensations were overwhelming as Jude began to move, his hips thrusting in a steady rhythm. His eyes never leaving yours, and you could see the raw desire reflected in their depths. He sets a relentless pace, his body pounding into yours, each stroke eliciting moans of pleasure from both of you.

"Oh fuck, Jude," you cried out, your voice hoarse with passion. "Yes, right there!" The pupils in his dark eyes dilated when he felt his cock pulse inside you. Every movement was slow, deep, and intentional. His lips curled into a smug smile hearing that he was doing a good job. You dragged your ankle down his back muscles. He was finding out quickly exactly how to touch you, how to drive you wild. His hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements, ensuring every thrust hits your sweet spot. The sounds of your pleasure fill the outdoor air—moans, gasps, and the wet, rhythmic slapping of skin on skin. As the tension builds, you can feel another orgasm approaching, a tidal wave of sensation ready to crash over you. Jude could sense your impending release and quickened his pace, his own breath becoming ragged.

"Cum for me, baby," he urged, his voice thick with lust. You moaned pulling him down to you more by the back of his neck dragging your nails harshly down his muscular back. He rested his forehead against yours sweetly as he continued to rail into you.  “Cum one more time f’me baby. Feels so good. Doing so well f’me.” He whispered between the lewd sounds of your squelching pussy. His thrusts sped up, rolling his hips into you as he chased his own orgasm. Your body tightened around him, and you cried out his name as the waves of pleasure washed over you once more. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you rode out the pulsating orgasm, your body trembling with its intensity. He thrusted harder, faster, his eyes rolling back as he surrendered to the bliss. He sunk his teeth into his perfect lower lip. You silently begged him to cum. His head tilted back. With a final powerful stroke, he emptied himself deep within you. Ropes of his cum filled the velvety inside of your pussy. He pumped you full gradually and slowly stilling. Your pussy continued to flutter as you panted beneath him. Your chest rising and falling. He softly stroked your hair and gently kissed you. “Did so good f’me.” He breathed, his voice filled with admiration. You smiled breathlessly as he kissed you again in a way that Jude prayed you could feel just how much he adored you with each one. In the aftermath of your passion by the pool, Jude collapsed onto the small space on the lounger, moving you to be on top of him now, both of you sweaty and satiated, keeping your bodies intertwined. You smiled, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

As you stood, fingers grazing over the delicate fabric on the rack inside the department store, you let out a heavy sigh. The weight in your chest felt unbearable, and the artificial high of retail therapy wasn’t doing what it was supposed to. You thought the expensive price tags and shiny new outfits would mask the ache, but instead, it all felt hollow.Winnie came up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist in a gentle hug. She giggled softly, trying to lift your spirits. 

"At least you'll have an amazing top to wear when you're ready to get back out there," she teased lightly. But the words, meant to comfort, only made you feel worse. Your eyes welled with tears, and you sniffled, turning away from the clothes.

"I don’t want to get back out there, Win," you whispered, voice trembling. "I don’t want to show off for anyone else. I don’t want any other eyes on me… it’s not the same." You felt a tear slip down your cheek, quickly brushing it away before it could fall. Winnie turned you gently, her face softening in concern.

“Hey, it’s okay to feel that. You’re hurting, and no amount of shopping is gonna fix that.” You sighed, blinking back more tears, your throat tight. 

"I just… I only want to look good for him. Jude. He’s the only one who made me feel alive, you know? I used to get dressed up and know he’d look at me like I was the only person in the room. Now… I don’t feel like that anymore. I feel dull, like nothing will ever be the same without him."  Your hand fell from the hanger, the top you were about to buy suddenly meaningless. Shopping couldn’t fill the void Jude left behind, no matter how many racks you combed through. Winnie squeezed you tighter, trying to ground you as your words hung heavy between you. She rested her chin on your shoulder, feeling your pain as if it were her own.

 “I know, babe,” she whispered, trying to soothe you. “It’s okay to feel this way, you know. You don’t have to be ready to move on. It’s okay if all you want is him.” You shook your head, blinking back more tears as you stared blankly at the clothes in front of you, the vibrant fabrics and trendy designs suddenly feeling meaningless.

 “I feel so stupid,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I should be mad, right? I should be out there, showing him what he’s missing, living my best life. But I can’t. I just… I can’t.” Winnie turned you around in her arms, forcing you to look at her.

“You’re definitely not stupid. You’re in love. That’s not something you just get over in a snap. And you’re allowed to feel how you feel, even if it’s messy or complicated.” You sniffled, biting your lip as your eyes darted to the ground.

“But it’s more than that, Win. I wish I wanted to go out, find someone else, let some random guy sweep me off my feet, make Jude jealous. Hell, I wish I wanted to go fuck someone else but I don’t. I really don’t. The thought of someone else… It makes me sick. The idea of anyone touching me the way Jude did… it’s not even a comparison.”  Your voice cracked as the weight of your feelings pressed harder on your chest. “I tried that. I just want him,” you admitted, your heart breaking with every word. “I want to be in his bed, wearing his t-shirts, listening to him laugh at something stupid I said. I don’t want to go out and meet anyone new. I don’t want to pretend like I’m okay. I just want… him.”  Winnie sighed, her face soft with sympathy as she watched the tears finally fall. 

“I get it. I do. And I wish I could say something to make it all better, but I can’t. Only time will help… or maybe Jude will come to his senses and fix this… would you want him to?” She paused, her eyes searching yours, as if she was trying to find some glimmer of hope within you. You pouted at her, giving her the obvious answer that of course you did.  “Well, until then, you’ve got me. And we’ll get through this together, okay?” You nodded weakly, but the ache in your chest didn’t lessen. You pulled away from Winnie slightly, looking around the store, your heart heavy. 

“I just don’t get it, you know? I used to love coming to Bergdorfs. I used to get so excited to find something new, to go out and show it off. But now… now it feels like none of it matters.” You ran your fingers over a top you had been eyeing earlier, the fabric soft beneath your fingertips, but it didn’t bring you the same joy it once would have. “I don’t even want this,” you whispered, more to yourself than to Winnie. “I know I sound dramatic but none of it means anything without him. What’s the point of getting dressed up or going out if he’s not there to see it? If he’s not the one taking it off at the end of the night?” Winnie’s arms wrapped around you again, tighter this time, as if she could shield you from the pain with her embrace. 

“You don’t have to do it for anyone else,” she murmured. “If you don’t want to go out, don’t. If you don’t want to move on right now, don’t force it. It’s okay to miss him, and it’s okay to still want him. But you have to take care of yourself, too. Even if it’s hard.” You sighed heavily, the exhaustion of everything catching up with you.

“I’m trying,” you said softly. “But it’s like… suddenly, New York isn’t home anymore. Nothing feels like home without him. The city feels empty, cold. And I’ve never felt so far away from him… from myself.”  Your voice cracked again, and Winnie’s hand found yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You’re not far from yourself,” she said gently. “You’re just hurting. And that’s okay. You’re allowed to grieve this, to feel lost. But you’ll find your way back. Whether that’s with Jude or without him, I know you will.” Her words brought a small comfort, but the ache in your chest remained.

“It just doesn’t feel like home without him,” you repeated, more to yourself. “He is my home, and now I don’t even know where I am anymore.” Winnie pulled you in tighter, her heart breaking for you.

 “I know, babe. But we’ll figure it out. Whether that means getting back to him or finding your own way again. I’m here, and we’ll figure it out.” For a moment, you just stood there, holding onto her, the weight of your heartbreak pressing down on you. You wanted to believe her, that you’d find your way back to yourself, but right now, all you could think about was how much you missed Jude. How much you still loved him, even after everything. You sighed again, pulling away from Winnie and running a hand through your hair.

 “I don’t want to meet anyone else, Win. I don’t want to move on. I just want him.” Winnie nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. 

“I know. And that’s okay. You don’t have to move on. But maybe… maybe you should tell him that.” She sympathetically smiled at you. 

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, the black sheer lace dress you had bought on a whim clinging to your body like a whisper. You could see your underwear beneath the fabric, and you almost laughed at how absurd this all felt. Yet, you couldn’t help but indulge in the fantasy for a moment, wondering what it would be like if you did go to Aurelian’s party. The new clothes from your shopping spree with Winnie sat scattered around you in your wardrobe, a reminder of how hard you were trying to distract yourself. An hour and half a bottle of Dom Pérignon later, you were sitting on the floor of your wardrobe, staring at your phone, your fingers hovering over the screen. The bubbly had loosened something in you, making you braver—or more reckless, depending on how you looked at it. Without thinking too much about it, you picked up your phone and shot off a flirty text to Aurelian, switching to French. 

‘Qu'est-ce que je suis censée porter à ta fête si je viens? Quoi qu'il en soit, je me sens déjà un peu sous-dressée…’ [What am I supposed to wear to your party if I come? Though, I already feel a little underdressed]

You pressed send before you could stop yourself. Your heart raced as you waited for a reply, feeling a strange mix of excitement and guilt swirl in your chest. When Aurelian’s response finally came through, you bit your lip as you read it, his words making your cheeks warm. 

‘Je ne t'ai jamais vue sans être magnifique. Je suis presque sûr que ce n'est pas les vêtements qui comptent…’ [I’ve never seen you look anything but magnificent. I’m pretty sure it’s not the clothes that matter.]

His implication was clear, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You found yourself smiling at his smooth compliment, your heart beating a little faster. You could feel the tension in the air between you, even through a phone screen, and for a moment, you wondered if you should let yourself lean into it.  Aurelian's next message popped up with an innocently enough question. 

 ‘Alors, à quoi pensais-tu?’ [So, what were you thinking?]

You stared at the text, the decision looming large before you. You could send him a photo right now—show him the drunken, seductive mess you were in this dress, the dress you probably wouldn’t have worn for anyone but Jude in the past. A part of you wanted to flirt, to let Aurelian see you this way, to forget for just a moment how much you missed Jude. 

But as you sat there, the phone still in your hand, you sighed. You couldn't shake the ache inside you, the ache that had nothing to do with Aurelian. It was Jude who filled your thoughts, Jude who made your heart race when you sent those types of flirty, suggestive photos. Jude who you were still in love with, even if it hurt like hell.You let your phone drop beside you, not replying to Aurelian’s message. The thought of sending that picture, or even entertaining the idea of someone else, just didn’t feel right. It didn’t fill the void you were hoping it would. It only reminded you of what you were missing—what you still wanted, even though you had tried to convince yourself otherwise. With a heavy sigh, you rested your head against the a cabinet drawer, the sheer dress now feeling more like a reminder of the distance between where you were and where you wanted to be. You weren’t ready to move on. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

You were sitting on your couch, half-watching the cityscape outside your window mindlessly when your phone rang. It was your mum. You answered with a smile, but the moment she mentioned your dad had watched the Madrid match, your stomach twisted in knots. 

"He was so excited, you know? Your dad, watching the game. And then... well, I’ve been feeling like I’m keeping something from him," she said softly but you could almost hear her smile through the phone. "I mean, about you and Jude." You froze, your throat tightening. 

"Mum, we’re not... we’re not seeing each other anymore." You sheepishly admitted hating each word as it came out of your mouth.  

"What do you mean? I thought—" There was a pause on the other end of the line, the confusion hanging in the air like a weight. 

"It’s over," you said quickly, the words feeling foreign, like they didn’t belong to you. "I ended it." With every follow-up question she asked, you felt your resolve crumbling, the walls you had built up to protect yourself beginning to crack. And then, as you tried to explain, your voice broke, a sob you hadn’t expected rising in your chest. Tears slipped from your eyes, and it was like you couldn’t stop them once they started. You never cried, not like this, not with your mum. The moment she heard the hitch in your voice, her tone shifted. She dropped into the familiar comfort of French, her voice soft and maternal. 

"Ma chérie, oh non, mon bébé, ne pleure pas. C’est bon, je suis là. Papa et moi, nous sommes là pour toi. Viens nous voir, viens à Paris.” [My darling, oh no, my baby, don’t cry. It’s okay, I’m here. Dad and I, we're here for you. Come see us, come to Paris.] Her words wrapped around you like a blanket, but instead of comforting you, they made the ache worse. You cried harder, the sobs tearing out of you, unexpected and overwhelming. There was something about her offer, the thought of going back to Paris with a broken heart, that made the hurt feel even sharper. Paris had always been your sanctuary, your favorite place on earth. You didn’t want to taint it with the sadness that now clung to you like a second skin. The idea of walking those familiar streets, eating at your favorite cafés, all while carrying the weight of your broken heart—it was unbearable.

"I... I don’t think I can, Mum," you choked out between sobs. "I don’t want to go to Paris like this. I really don’t want to ruin it." You muttered.

"Rien ne peut ruiner Paris pour toi, ma chérie.” [Nothing can ruin Paris for you, my darling.] She soothed, her voice soft and steady. "Paris misses you almost as much as we do." But you shook your head, even though she couldn’t see it.

"I feel so lost. I know I haven’t known him for that long but I don’t even know who I am without him anymore. And if I go to Paris like this, I’m scared it’ll never be the same again.” 

“Tu es forte, mon amour. Plus forte que tu ne le penses. Et peu importe ce que tu ressens maintenant, tu retrouveras ton chemin. Come to Paris. We’ll help you heal.” [You are strong, my love. Stronger than you think. And no matter how you feel now, you will find your way back. Come to Paris. We’ll help you heal.] Her words were like balm on a wound, but it didn’t stop the fear from gnawing at you. You hadn’t realized how deep this heartbreak had cut, how much it had seeped into every part of your life. Even the thought of Paris, a place you’d always associated with joy and love, felt tainted now. 

"I just... I don’t know how to do this, Mum. I don’t know how to move on." You wrapped your arms around yourself, the tears slowing but your chest still heavy. Telling your mum you were hurting made you feel like a little girl. 

"Tu n’as pas à savoir maintenant. C’est pour ça qu’on est là. Come to Paris, ma chérie. Papa et moi, on s’occupera de toi." [You don’t have to know right now. That’s why we’re here. Come to Paris, my darling. Dad and I will take care of you.] You cried quietly as she continued to console you, her words soft and loving, trying to bring you comfort in a moment where comfort felt impossible. You knew she was right, that eventually, you’d have to find your way back to yourself. But right now, in the middle of the heartache, it felt like you were drifting, lost and untethered.

After what felt like your and Jude’s denouement you were struggling with the overwhelming weight of your emotions crush your resolve. You couldn’t do this alone—not anymore. The only person you could think or want to call was Whitney. Whitney, who had always been there for you, who understood the unique challenges of loving an English footballer, a man with a similar life as Jude. With trembling hands, you dialed her number.

“Helllooo” Whitney sang. “What’s up?” When Whitney picked up, her voice was warm and familiar, instantly calming some of your anxiety. But you couldn’t hold back the sob that escaped you. 

“Whit… can I come stay with you? Please? Whit…” You whimpered as you began to bawl.

“Of course, you can. What’s wrong? Are you okay?” The concern in Whitney’s voice was immediate. You tried to gather herself, but the tears kept coming. 

“I just… I can’t be here. I need to get away. I need to be somewhere safe. I can’t be alone like this.” You wept as your whole body shook of fear and heartbreak.

“Don’t worry about anything,” Whitney assured you. “Just get on the next flight over here. Come be with me. Trent and I are here for you always.” Whitney sympathetically told you. 

By the time you arrived at Trent and Whitney’s house, you were exhausted—emotionally, physically, completely drained. You stood at the doorstep, your heart heavy as you padded in the lock code Whitney gave you. As you opened the door, the alarm bell rang through their massive home that was filled to the brim with love and warmth that made you want to cry upon entry. The other thing that made you want to cry was their sweet little two year old girl, Teddy running towards you. Her bare feet pitter pattering on the flooring.

“Y/N!” Teddy exclaimed, her tiny face lighting up with pure joy. “Miss! Missed!” She giggled as the dimples in her cheeks sank.  You felt your heart swell at the sight of this little girl you loved so much. You dropped to your knees and scooped Teddy up into a tight hug, letting the warmth of the embrace soothe you for a moment. But then, the tears came again, unbidden and unstoppable. Trent appeared at the door next, concern etched on his face. He watched as you clung to his daughter, tears streaming down your cheeks. Without a word, he walked over and gently lifted Teddy from your arms. He kissed your temple softly, offering silent comfort.

“It’s okay,” Trent murmured, holding Teddy close as she babbled nonsense about missing you happily in his arms. “Whatever’s going on. You’re gonna be alright.” He cooed. 

“Come on, let’s get you inside,” Whitney said softly, leading you into the cozy living room after she appeared at your side, her arm wrapping around your shoulders. You settled on the couch, and Whitney handed you a glass of wine. “Talk to me,” Whitney urged gently. “Tell me what’s going on.” You took a shaky breath, staring into the wine glass as if it held all the answers. You knew you needed to talk, to let it all out—but the words felt stuck in your throat. Whitney waited patiently, her presence a steady, calming force. 

“I messed everything up, Whit. I tried to protect myself, and I ended up pushing him away. I don’t know what to do.” You whimpered. Finally, you looked up, your voice trembling. Whitney reached out, placing a comforting hand on your knee. 

“I hardly think you messed everything up. He cares so much about you. I’m here to listen so let’s start from the beginning,” she said softly. “I’m here for you, Y/N. Whatever it is, whatever is best for you, we’ll figure it out together.” As the night went on, you poured out your heart, the tears falling freely as you recounted everything that had happened with Jude. All the things Whitney already knew, all the things Whitney didn’t. All of it, dirty and otherwise. She listened, offering support and understanding in a way only she could. The wine helped to dull the edges of your pain, but it was the kindness and warmth of Whitney and her little family that truly began to soothe the deep ache inside you. After a long, emotional conversation, Whitney noticed your exhaustion weighing heavily on you. But she also knew that you needed more than just one person to lean on right now. With a reassuring smile, Whitney pulled out her phone.

“I think it’s time to bring in another opinion. It’s only right,” Whitney said, giving you a wink as she tapped on her screen. Moments later, the familiar face of Winnie appeared on the screen. Winnie’s bright smile greeting you with her usual energy. 

“Wow, thanks for the invite! I didn’t know you were going over Y/N.” Winnie teased seeing you and Lauren on the same couch but then she paused, taken aback by the expressions on your faces. “What’s going on? Look like you’ve had a good cry.” She asked a bit cautiously.  You managed a small smile as Whitney explained the progression of your situation. Winnie listened intently, her face softening with empathy as the story unfolded. She was rambunctious and fun, but she also had a deep well of understanding that made her the perfect person to talk to when things got heavy. After that night at the club, Winnie had been there for you. Both of these girls always were.

“So let me just recap here.,” Winnie said, leaning closer to the camera as if she could step through the screen to be with you. “You and Jude are head over heels for each other, but you’re both too scared to admit it, so you’re pushing each other away, sleeping with other people and then just not talking about it?” Winnie summarized the situation a bit too bluntly. 

“Win… they’re in love with each other.”  Whitney rebuffed. “Sure, Jude’s been fucking stupid but Y/N now has created distance… rightfully so by the way.” Whitney turned to you, squeezing your leg. “Problem is, now, there’s a chasm they don’t know what to do with. Y/N is trying to weigh what to do.” Whitney sadly smiled. 

“What’s gonna hurt less.” Winnie responded. “But…” Winnie piped up again. “I mean… a little pain isn’t the worst thing in the world. It’s horrible but on the other side of it... I think maybe an in person conversation, if you can manage it might be good.”

“I agree. And then if the direction turns you get to decide. You get to call it. You clearly love each other and saying it over the phone just isn’t right. Not when it’s real love.” Whitney ever the romantic cooed. You blushed at the ideas, nodding hesitantly, trying to keep your composure. 

“I really love him… I think.” You pouted at them. Feeling not much better about Jude specifically but much better talking with them. “I’m such a fucking sap now. Whitney, you did this to me.” You whined falling into her lap dramatically. Both girls giggled as you dragged yourself to sit back up.  

“Love is amazing!” Whitney sang kissing your forehead. She had no quam introducing you and Jude. She thought love was great. You usually watched Whitney’s relationship from a distance, thinking it was crazy she was down so bad for a man but now you understood her more than ever. And at the moment you envied her happy relationship more than ever. 

“The make up sex will be amazing!!” Winnie added, mocking Whitney’s tone. Whitney chuckled, shaking her head. Before you could respond, Teddy came bounding into the room, her little feet pattering against the floor.

 “Mama!” she called out, her eyes lighting up as she spotted Whitney. She climbed up onto the couch clumsily, nestling herself into Whitney’s lap, and wrapped her tiny arms around her mother’s neck. Whitney kissed Teddy’s cheek, holding her close as she continued the conversation.

“It’s not easy, Y/N. But pushing him away because you’re scared will only hurt you both more.” You and her both exchanged sad smiles. Teddy let go on Whitney and clumsily flopped onto your lap giving your thigh a hug smushing her face against your leg. She could sense your sadness and even though she probably couldn’t understand why, her silly hug did more than she knew. Just after, Trent appeared in the doorway, looking slightly sheepish. “Sorry, ladies,” he said, running a hand over his hair. “She slipped away from me. She’s quick y’know.” He laughed. You smiled at the sight of Trent, feeling a strange sense of comfort in the normalcy of the scene. 

“It’s okay,” you said, your voice softer now. “I could use all the cuddles I can get.” You cooed. Trent chuckled, giving a quick hello to Winnie and then Teddy a playful nudge before scooping her up. Whitney gave your hand a gentle squeeze. Trent plopped onto another seat in the room with Teddy, the two of them falling into their own little conversation. 

“You don’t have to figure it all out right now,” she said softly. “But you should be honest with yourself about how you feel, you should ask him point blank how he feels, you deserve someone who will love you fearlessly. Not all this bullshit he’s been doing. At the end of it all, do what is right for your heart, your peace. Just please take care of this girl because she means a lot to me.” Whitney smiled as she pinched at your waist.  Winnie nodded on the screen in agreement, her expression serious and stoic. 

“Exactly. We’re here for you, Y/N. Whatever you decide, you’re not alone in this but also don’t pretend cheap navy polyester blend sheets are ever going to make you feel the way white Italian made Frette sateen do.” She meant it metaphorically but maybe seriously as well about bedroom antics. Whitney shrugged partly agreeing about the bed linen comment. You were a group of three, well four including Teddy, very spoiled girls. You looked at the two sisters and then at Teddy, who was now contentedly playing with the hem of Trent’s top. For the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel so lost. After the conversation with Winnie wrapped up, Whitney decided it was time to shift the mood to something lighter. 

“You know what we need? A Chinese,” she declared, already pulling up the menu on her phone. 

“Whit, baby, you know I can’t have that—I’m in season.” Trent, now lounging comfortably in the corner of the couch with Teddy perched on his lap, raised an eyebrow in protest.

“You’ll survive. Y/N likes the place we order from here so that’s what we’re getting.” Whitney shot him a playful but firm look. Trent sighed, defeated, while Teddy giggled at her father’s expense. 

“Dada no hungry?” Teddy chirped asking Trent, grabbing at his shirt. “Like ‘neese.” She giggled, unable to properly pronounce ‘chinese’ just yet.

“Nah, baby bear. I’m very hungry!” Trent corrected her as he dramatically squeezed Teddy tight to him, locking her in place as he began to nom on her chubby cheek teasingly as she squealed and giggled. You sighed hearing Trent call Teddy his little nickname, a two year olds giggle booming in the room, your best friend watching her family. You felt so lonely in a moment when you couldn’t have been less alone. Soon enough, the smell of takeout filled the house. You gathered around their dining table. Trent’s eyes lingered longingly on the orange chicken, but he dutifully stuck to his more athlete-friendly meal, occasionally sneaking glances at everyone else’s plates.

“Mama, no tanks.” Teddy, still on Trent’s lap, scrunched her nose at the sight of broccoli on her plate. It was simply genetics but there was something funny about watching both Trent, over orange chicken, and Teddy, over broccoli, give Whitney their best identical puppy dog eyes pleading for her approval. 

“Ted, baby,  gotta eat those please. Just a few bites for me, cute girl.” Whitney replied, not missing a beat. “You… “ her eyes flashed to Trent. “Learn some self control. Eat your grilled chicken and set an example for your daughter.”  She giggled. “Eat your broccoli.” She smirked, moving a container more towards them. With a dramatic sigh, both Teddy and Trent picked up a piece of broccoli and nibbled at it. As you ate, the conversation flowed naturally, drifting back to the earlier topic. Trent, who had been mostly quiet regarding the Jude situation, finally chimed in.

“Look, Y/N, I get it. Jude’s been a…” He paused momentarily to cover Teddy’s ears. “He’s been a fucking idiot because he’s scared, just like you are. But being scared doesn’t mean you should just give up on the whole relationship.” He cooed. Your fork paused halfway to your mouth, and you looked at Trent, feeling a mix of gratitude and frustration. 

“T, Jude and I aren’t even in a relationship. We’re just… I don’t even know what we are. And at the moment really nothing at all.”  You sighed, upset that it wasn’t like you were repairing something with a boyfriend. Jude was nothing to you because you never got to labels and that was the problem. Trent leaned forward slightly, his expression serious but kind. 

“You say that and I know that Jude should’ve fixed exactly that but you’re more than just nothing, that’s for sure. But if you just push it all away and ignore what you want, you’re never going to know what it could be.” He softly smiled at you. Whitney nodded in agreement, giving you a similar gentle smile. 

“I don’t want to pile on because I know it’s hard but T’s right, you know. You can’t let fear control this. Jude should be the one to fix it but if it’s something you want it’s worth maybe at least asking one more time.” Whitney pouted a bit being a hopeless romantic. You took a deep breath, letting their words sink in. You knew they were right, but that didn’t make it any easier. Still, there was something comforting about the way you all sat around the table, talking through the mess of emotions that had been haunting you for weeks. When you finished your meal, you felt a little lighter, as if the weight of your fears had been shared among you all. Teddy, after finally eating her vegetables, grinned triumphantly as Whitney handed her a small bowl of ice cream.

“See? Not so bad. You and Daddy are so picky sometimes ” Whitney teased, running her hand over Trent’s head whilst pressing a kiss to Teddy’s hair. You smiled, feeling a warmth you hadn’t felt in a while. Maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to navigate this confusing thing with Jude. And if you stumbled along the way, at least you knew you had people who would catch you.  As the evening wound down, Whitney guided you to the guest room, a comforting hand on your back. You carried Teddy, who insisted on following you two, her tiny arms wrapped around your neck. When you reached the room, you gently placed Teddy down before flopping onto the bed with a dramatic sigh. The weight of the day, the emotions, and the uncertainty all seemed to catch up with you at once. But the despair was short-lived as Teddy, ever the little bundle of joy, clambered up onto the bed beside you, mimicking your flop with a giggle. The sound was infectious, and despite yourself, you found a smile breaking through. You leaned over and planted a few playful kisses on Teddy’s cheeks, each one drawing more giggles from the little girl. It was moments like these that made everything feel a bit more manageable. Whitney sat on the edge of the bed, watching you with a sympathetic smile. She knew you were still hurting, still conflicted, but she also knew that you needed to confront those feelings head-on. 

“You should talk to Jude, Y/N,” Whitney said softly, her tone gentle but insistent. Hearing Jude’s name, Teddy’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“Mama, miss Judey!” she exclaimed, her voice bright and innocent, free of the complications that you were grappling with. Your heart clenched a little at Teddy’s words. You hugged Teddy close, pressing another kiss to her cheek. 

“Me too, Ted. Me too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Whitney watched you, her heart aching for her friend but also hopeful that this might be the push you needed.

“He misses you too, Y/N. Don’t let this slip away without at least trying to fight for it.” You nodded slowly, your mind racing with all the things you wanted to say to Jude, all the things you were too afraid to admit even to yourself. But as you lay there with Teddy cuddled up beside you, you knew that Whitney was right. It was time to stop running, time to face whatever this thing with Jude was—no matter how terrifying it might be. You laid in bed, the darkness of the room doing little to quiet your mind. Every time you closed your eyes, thoughts of Jude filled your head—his smile, his laugh, the way he made you feel both terrified and alive all at once. You watched the hours tick by, each passing minute only intensifying the ache in your chest. You missed him, more than you wanted to admit. 

You accompanied Whitney to one of Trent’s Liverpool matches. After the game, you two along with Trent and his brother, Marcel went out for dinner. You didn’t feel happy per se but you felt relaxed and just comforted by their normalcy and the layer of wine rushing through your system definitely helped lighten your mood. As Whitney excused herself to the bathroom and a fan engaged Trent in conversation, you felt a sudden charge of freedom wash over you. It was like a door had opened, offering a brief moment to do something reckless. Marcel's arm had found its way around your shoulders, and what started as an innocent gesture quickly shifted into something more intense, at least in your mind. In Marcel’s mind it was more in a platonic friend way steadying your drunk movements. You leaned in closer, feeling the alcohol take hold of your thoughts, pushing boundaries you might not have dared cross otherwise. Your thumb brushed over Marcel's lips, slow and deliberate, tracing the shape of them with a glint in your eye. You were testing the waters, watching for his reaction, letting the thrill of mischief spark through you. Marcel smirked despite himself, recognizing the shift in energy, the subtle tension that had bloomed between you two. His heart raced momentarily, tempted by the familiarity of this dynamic. You had hooked up before, and that memory lingered, pulling at the edges of his resolve.

"You have really nice lips," you murmured, eyes flicking down to them and then back up to his face, the challenge implicit in your voice. Marcel chuckled, his hand gently closing around yours as he pulled it away from his lips.

"Thank you sweetheart," he said, with a soft laugh.His tone light but cautious. "They get the job done." He cooed. You giggled, flashing your eyes down to his lips again, emboldened by his response. The banter felt dangerous, electric. There was a fire in your belly that only seemed to grow as you watched his smirk soften into something more serious. The thrill of pushing the line, seeing how far you could take it, was exhilarating. You felt like you were barreling toward something you couldn't quite control, but instead of stopping, you let yourself teeter closer to the edge. The energy between you two was shifting fast, spiraling into something much more charged. It was like standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing the fall would hurt but craving the rush of it anyway. You felt alive in a way you hadn't since things with Jude fell apart, and it felt dangerous, intoxicating.

“I know.” You cooed with a a smug smile. For a split second, you let yourself imagine it—the temptation, the thrill of crossing that line again with Marcel. You were flirting with danger, and a part of you loved the recklessness of it. But Marcel wasn't moving. He hadn't leaned in. He hadn't taken the bait. You could see it in his eyes, the internal battle he was fighting, the temptation wrestling with his conscience. The way his gaze flicked away from yours, the way he gently squeezed your hand as if to ground himself, it all told you he wasn't going to let this go any further. Not tonight. For a moment, you felt the excitement drain, leaving behind a hollow ache. You weren't really after Marcel. You were after the thrill, the distraction from the gnawing emptiness that had been eating away at you since Jude. But as you sat there, staring at Marcel's careful, measured response, you realized this wasn't what you wanted. Not really.

“Lucky you,” he teased, playing along with the joke you started, but there was an undertone of seriousness as his gaze lingered on you a little too long. Marcel’s soft laugh echoed in your ears, his casual response almost distracting you from the sting of rejection you felt coming. You giggled, but the sound was empty, your heart heavy with the weight of what you knew was coming. You sighed, the giggle fading, and pouted without meaning to, feeling childish but unable to stop yourself. The alcohol had lowered your guard, and now, there was nowhere to hide from the vulnerability that was surfacing. Marcel noticed the shift in you, and instead of pulling away, he turned to face you fully. Gently, he lifted your face from where it had been resting against his shoulder, cupping your cheeks with his hands. His touch was soft, tender even, as he looked directly into your eyes. “Listen, it’s not that I wouldn’t,” he began, his voice low but steady. “Or that I’m not interested. You’re gorgeous, and trust me… I hate that I’m saying no. That the right thing is no.” He paused, watching the way your eyes searched his, needing more from him, something to fill the emptiness you’d been carrying. “But you don’t actually want this.” You felt the weight of his words settle over you, sinking in as tears began to form on your lash line. You blinked, trying to hold them back, but it was no use. He was right, of course. Deep down, you knew you didn’t want this. Not really. Marcel wasn’t the person who filled the aching void in your chest. You were after the thrill, the distraction from the gnawing emptiness that had been eating away at you since Jude. But as you sat there, staring at Marcel's careful, measured response, you realized this wasn't what you wanted. Not really. Still, the rejection hurt. Your cheek leaned further into his hand, seeking comfort in his touch. You nodded, unable to form the words to admit the truth aloud, and Marcel’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. His lips pressed a soft kiss into your hair, and you took a deep, shaky breath, inhaling the warmth of his embrace. You pulled away from the hug, your eyes glassy with unshed tears. You managed a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes as you glanced up at him. You blinked, the haze clearing just enough for reality to settle back in. You felt a pang of regret. Not for what almost happened, but for the emptiness that made you chase after it in the first place.

“Would you, though? If things were different?” The question slipped out, your drunken state loosening your tongue. It wasn’t a fair question to ask, but you needed to know, needed some kind of validation that you still had ‘it.’ Marcel chuckled softly at first, but then his face grew serious. His eyes darkened, his gaze holding yours as he leaned in closer, his hand sliding down to your waist, his thumb brushing over the bare skin of your stomach where your shirt had ridden up. He whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. 

“Y/N… You know the answer.” He smirked. “We’ve lived that answer so trust me…you have no idea,” he said, his voice low, sending a shiver down your spine. “If things were different, you wouldn’t still be sitting at this table.” The confession sent a rush through you, a sense of relief flooding your system, like a validation you hadn’t realized you needed. It was a reminder that you still had ‘it,’ that you were still desirable. But as the relief settled in, so did something else—a deeper realization. You didn’t want ‘it’ with Marcel. You didn’t want to be here, chasing after validation from someone who wasn’t the person you truly wanted. You wanted Jude. You wanted the warmth of his arms around you, the sound of his voice telling you that you were the only one for him. No matter how good it felt to hear Marcel’s words, they weren’t enough to fill the void. With a sigh, you pulled away from Marcel, giving him a small, grateful smile. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, unsure if you were thanking him for the compliment or for stopping you from making a mistake. Marcel just nodded, his expression soft, understanding. 

“You’ll be okay,” he said quietly. “You’re just... a little lost right now.” And he was right. You were lost, but maybe, just maybe, you were starting to find your way back. As Whitney returned and Trent's conversation ended, the moment dissolved into the background, just another part of the night. But the lingering feeling stayed with you, a reminder of how far away you still felt from the person you used to be-and the person you wanted to be again.

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - Chapter 11 xx

[dee-writes-anime]

God, Do Anything But Leave Me

FEATURING Toji Fushiguro x Reader

SUMMARY Toji just can't live without you.

CONTENT WARNINGS angst to fluff, talk of Toji's dead wife, mentions little Megumi, arguments, reader storms out

AUTHORS NOTE I've been absent, but never fear! I am back from my week-long trip with some Toji goods just for yall ;)

The apartment was unnervingly quiet, the ticking of the clock loud in the stillness. You stood by the window, staring at the night, your reflection faint against the glass. The air between you and Toji felt heavy, like a storm waiting to break. He sat on the couch, elbows resting on his knees, eyes burning into your back. It was unbearable—the silence, the weight of everything left unsaid, everything you were too scared to voice until now.

Finally, the tension snapped, his gravelly voice cutting through the air like a blade. “You’re acting weird. What’s going on with you?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, willing the knot in your throat to loosen. It felt like you were on the edge of something dangerous, something you couldn’t take back once it started. But there was no stopping it now.

“It’s nothing.” You lied, your voice brittle.

His eyes narrowed, his irritation creeping in. “Don’t give me that bullshit. It’s not nothing. Talk.”

The demand in his voice struck a nerve. He always spoke like that—rough, commanding. But tonight, it grated on you, fueling the fire already burning in your chest. You turned around, fists clenched at your sides, your heart pounding as you faced him.

“You really want me to talk? Fine.” The words tumbled out before you could stop them. “It’s about her.”

The look on his face darkened immediately. He didn’t need to ask who. His ex-wife—Megumi’s mother. The woman who had been a permanent shadow in your relationship, even though she was long gone.

Toji straightened, his jaw tightening. “What about her?”

“You loved her, Toji. You had a life with her. You had a family. I get that,” you said, your voice trembling but growing louder with each word. “But what am I supposed to do with that? How am I supposed to be okay knowing that no matter what I do, I’ll never be her?”

Toji stood up abruptly, the motion abrupt, his looming presence now swallowing up the small room. “You’re not her. You don’t need to be her. I don’t understand what the hell this is about.”

“You don’t understand?” You let out a bitter laugh, blinking back the tears threatening to fall. “Toji, you barely talk about her, but she’s always there! You act like you’ve moved on, but I know you haven’t. How could you?”

He crossed the room in two steps, stopping just in front of you, his voice lowering to a dangerous growl. “She’s dead. What do you want me to say? It’s done.”

“You want me to believe that?” You couldn’t stop the tears now, your emotions spilling out uncontrollably. “You had a child with her, Toji. You built a life together, and I know you loved her. I feel like I’m just—just filling in the gaps where she left. Like I’ll never be enough for you.”

Toji's jaw clenched, and his eyes flickered with a mix of frustration and something deeper, something raw and wounded. “You think this is about her? You think I’m still hung up on that?”

“I don’t think. I know!” You shouted, the dam inside you finally breaking. “You never talk about her. It’s like you’ve buried everything, and I’m supposed to just accept that? Like it doesn’t affect you?”

He stepped closer, his voice rough and sharp. “You think I want to drag up old shit all the time? You think I want to live in the past?”

“Maybe you don’t want to live in it, but you haven’t left it behind, Toji!” You were yelling now, voice breaking as the words you had swallowed for so long poured out. “Every time I see you with Megumi, I wonder if you’re thinking about her. I wonder if you look at me and wish I was her.”

Toji’s expression hardened, the tension between you snapping like a taut wire. “That’s bullshit, and you know it,” he growled, his frustration boiling over. “I don’t compare you to her. You’re the one doing that.”

“Because I have to!” Your voice cracked with the weight of your confession. “I’m trying so hard to be enough for you, but it never feels like I can be. You loved her, Toji. You had a child with her, and she’s gone. How can I ever compete with that?”

Toji’s fists clenched at his sides, his breathing heavy, like he was fighting to keep his emotions in check. “You’re not competing with anyone. I’m with you because I want to be with you, not because I’m comparing you to a ghost.”

“But that’s what it feels like!” Your voice trembled, breaking under the weight of your emotions. “You might not say it, but it’s there. It’s always there.”

His eyes flashed with anger, his patience finally worn thin. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he growled, stepping closer, towering over you. “You think I haven’t moved on? You think I don’t care about you? After everything we’ve been through, you’re still hung up on this?”

His words stung, each one like a slap to the face, and the tears came faster, slipping down your cheeks as you tried to catch your breath. “I can’t do this, Toji,” you whispered, your voice broken. “I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with this. With you not talking, with you shutting me out every time something hard comes up. I can’t compete with someone you lost, someone you loved so much you had a child with her.”

Toji’s eyes darkened further, his lips curling in frustration, but beneath the anger, you saw the flicker of something else—hurt, guilt, maybe even regret. But it didn’t matter. You were too far gone now, the pain too sharp, the cracks in your heart too deep.

“Where the hell are you going with this?” he demanded, his voice rough.

“I’m leaving.” The words slipped out before you could stop them.

Toji’s face twisted, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. “What?”

“I need to go,” you said, your voice trembling, hands shaking as you took a step back. “I can’t… I need space, Toji. I can’t breathe in here. I can’t breathe around all these memories, around the weight of everything you’ve lost.”

For a moment, you thought he might stop you. His jaw tightened, and he took a step forward, but then he stopped himself. His fists remained at his sides, clenched tightly, his breathing ragged as he stared at you.

“And what the hell am I supposed to do?” he asked, voice harsh but laced with something raw, almost pleading. “You just gonna walk out?”

You looked at him, the man you loved, the man you had tried so hard to reach, and for the first time, you saw the distance between you, the gulf that had been widening for far too long.

“I don’t know,” you whispered. “But I can’t stay here. Not like this.”

Without another word, you turned and grabbed your coat from the hook by the door, your heart pounding in your chest as you stepped into the hallway. Behind you, Toji stood frozen, his shadow looming large against the doorframe.

The door clicked shut behind you, the cold hallway wrapping around you like a suffocating embrace. Your steps were shaky, tears blurring your vision as you moved down the stairs. Each breath felt heavier than the last, your chest tight with the weight of everything left unsaid. You couldn’t stay in that apartment, surrounded by the memories that weren’t yours, by the ghosts of a life Toji once had and lost. You needed space, air, something to stop the overwhelming ache in your heart.

But behind you, in that apartment you had just left, Toji stood frozen in place. His fists were still clenched, knuckles white as he stared at the door you had walked through. The sound of it shutting echoed in his head, each second that passed making it feel more final. You were leaving—leaving him—and the reality of that hit him like a punch to the gut.

“Shit,” he hissed under his breath, running a hand through his dark hair, pulling at the strands in frustration. He could feel the anger boiling up again, the sharp edge of his temper threatening to snap. But beneath that, something far more dangerous stirred—panic.

He paced, his heart pounding, each beat like a hammer driving home the gravity of the situation. You were gone, and he was standing here, helpless, watching everything slip through his fingers. The image of you walking away felt like a flashback to another time—another loss.

His breath hitched as a memory, long buried, surfaced. His wife—Megumi’s mother. He had lost her too, just after their son was born. The pain of that loss had carved out a piece of his soul, left him hollow in ways he never wanted to admit. But even in his grief, he had survived. He had kept going, if only for his son’s sake. He had learned to live with that emptiness, that hole in his chest. But this—losing you—was something he couldn’t live through.

Not again. Not like this.

Toji swore under his breath, grabbing his jacket from the back of the couch as he stormed out the door. His footsteps were heavy, echoing down the stairwell as he followed you, his mind racing, his chest tight with emotions he hadn’t fully processed until now.

He spotted you just outside, a few steps ahead, your form hunched over as you wrapped your arms around yourself, as if trying to keep the world out. His heart twisted at the sight, a surge of something—guilt, fear, desperation—forcing him to move faster.

“Wait!” His voice cut through the cool night air, rough and urgent, his footsteps pounding against the pavement as he caught up to you.

You froze at the sound of his voice, your heart skipping a beat. But you didn’t turn around. You couldn’t. The tears were still streaming down your face, and you weren’t ready for another fight. Not now, not like this.

“Please,” Toji’s voice cracked as he reached you, his hand gripping your arm, not rough but firm, as though he was terrified you might disappear if he let go. “Don’t go.”

His breath was ragged, uneven, and when you finally turned to face him, you saw something in his eyes that you hadn’t expected—fear. Real, raw fear.

“Toji, I…” Your voice faltered, but the tears kept coming, the pain still too fresh. “I can’t do this. I can’t keep pretending I’m okay.”

“I’m not asking you to pretend,” he rasped, his voice strained in a way that you rarely heard from him. “I just—fuck, I can’t lose you. Not you.”

The words hit you hard, and you blinked through your tears, staring at him as his expression shifted—cracked, in a way you had never seen before. Toji Fushiguro, the man who always seemed unshakable, was on the edge of breaking, and it terrified you.

“You don’t understand,” you whispered, shaking your head, your voice thick with emotion. “You’ll be fine. You lost her, and you—”

Toji’s grip tightened, not painfully, but enough to ground you both. “No. I survived losing her, but that’s it. I survived. I didn’t live. I didn’t feel anything after that except for Megumi. It was like everything inside me was just—” He paused, his voice catching as he struggled to find the right words, his chest rising and falling rapidly with the intensity of it all. “It was like a part of me died with her. But you…”

His voice softened, the roughness giving way to something much more vulnerable, something he wasn’t used to letting out. “You made me feel like I was alive again. Like I could actually breathe.”

Your heart clenched at his words, the sincerity in his voice cutting through the fog of your emotions. You had never seen him like this—so raw, so open. It was as if the walls he had built around himself for years were crumbling before your eyes.

“I don’t know how to be good at this,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion, his eyes fixed on yours. “I don’t know how to talk about this shit, about her. But you… You’re not in her shadow. You never were. I didn’t choose you to replace her. I chose you because I need you. Because I—fuck.” He closed his eyes, his breath shuddering as he fought to keep control. “I need you. And I’m not strong enough to lose you.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning, with all the pain he had been carrying for so long.

You swallowed hard, the tears still falling but the sharp edge of your hurt beginning to dull as his words sank in. “Toji, I…” You faltered, your heart aching with how much this moment hurt, but how much you wanted to believe him, to believe that this could be different, that you weren’t just a stand-in for someone he had lost.

He stepped closer, his hand moving to your cheek, brushing a tear away with a gentleness that belied the storm in his eyes. “I lost her, and it hurt. It tore me apart. But I kept living. I had to. For Megumi. For me.” He paused, his thumb gently caressing your cheek, his voice lowering to a whisper. “But if I lose you, I don’t think I can come back from that.”

Your chest tightened, a sob escaping your throat as his words wrapped around your heart. You could feel the weight of his emotions in every word, in the way his hand trembled slightly against your skin.

You wanted to be angry. You wanted to cling to the pain, to the hurt that had driven you to walk out in the first place. But standing here, with Toji looking at you like you were the most important thing in his world, the walls you had built around your heart started to crumble.

“Toji, I’m scared,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I’m scared I’ll never be enough.”

He shook his head, his grip on you tightening as though he could somehow hold you together with just his hands. “You’re enough. You’ve always been enough. I’m the one who’s not enough. But I’m trying. I’m trying because I can’t lose you. Not after everything. Not when you’re the one thing keeping me from falling apart.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked up at him. There was so much pain here, so much history, but there was also something else—a chance, a fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, this could be different.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice raw and pleading. “Don’t leave me.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Cool for the Summer 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After finishing your degree, you return home only to find things aren’t as you left them.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: baby girls, he we go.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You rinse out the bowl you used for your oatmeal. It’s only as the back door opens that you notice the roar of the mower’s stopped. You put the porcelain in the dishwasher and shut it as you hear footsteps down the hall. It’s almost ten o’clock. 

“Hey, baby girl,” Bucky greets your back as he enters. “I just put fresh water in the hot tub. Might go for a soak myself, try to loosen up these muscles.” 

You face him, “hot tub?” 

“Oh, yeah. Guess that’s new too.” He chuckles. “Another one of my projects.” 

“Right,” you nod. A sudden buzz makes your jump. 

You look around and scurry across the kitchen to grab your phone. It’s a message from your mom. But why would she text you? Can’t she just come downstairs? 

‘Is Bucky still there?’  

You stare at the message and frown. Huh? 

“Everything okay, doll?” Bucky asks. Your eyes flick up. 

“Um, yeah, erm, it’s my mom...” you shake your head. 

“Right, how’s work going for her?” He plants a hand on the counter and leans. 

“Work? It’s her day off,” you blink. 

“Ah, yeah, she said she didn’t want to wake you up when she left. She got called in. Emergency.” He explains. 

You clutch the phone as you stare at him dumbly. Why didn’t he mention that earlier? Well, it’s not on him, you could have checked. But if she’s gone, why is he still here? 

“Don’t spoil the surprise,” he says, “about the lawn.” 

“I won’t,” you look down and text her back. 

“So how about it? You up for a soak?” He asks again. 

“Um, I’ll think about it. Just gonna chat with my mom,” you waggle your phone at him and meander to the door. 

‘Great. You two can get to know each other.’  

Her answer is disappointing. You thought she’d be surprised, maybe confused. It’s all perfectly normal to them. You’re still adjusting. If she’d told you before you got there, it wouldn’t feel so strange. 

At the same time, you don’t want to let her down. You can’t just ignore her message. You have to try but you feel like you haven’t even had time to settle in. And he’s not the only thing that’s different. Your room doesn’t even feel like yours. 

You stand at the bottom of the stairs. You key in a final reply. ‘Ok’. That’s it. A tepid agreement. 

“Hey,” Bucky surprises you again. “Invitation stands,” he wipes his forehead, his bicep bulging as he does, the muscles of his chest straining. “I’m just going to get in my trunks.” 

“Uh, I... I’ll think about it,” you make yourself take a step up and climb steadily, refusing to look back. 

You stare at the phone. You don’t want to be rude. You’re sure there’s a reasonable explanation for why your mother didn’t mention him. You might do the same in her shoes. After so long being single, she was probably just letting it pan out. 

Still, she could have said something when you were on the train. 

Whatever. It’s not your place to complain. You’re still living under her roof, rent-free, after years of tuition on her dime and a lifetime of dependency. You can pretend like this is all okay. 

You go into your room and shut the door behind you. You wouldn’t have a swim suit in the dresser, you didn’t bother to pack it for college. Wherever your other clothes are, it should be there. You just don’t know where that is. 

A tank top and shorts should do the trick. You prefer that to an actual swimsuit. It won’t feel so revealing.  

You take out a hot pink spaghetti strap shirt and a pair of black shorts. You switch out your clothes, catching your foot in the shorts and tripping slightly. You stand up, shirtless, leaning on the vanity as you get your balance.  

You glimpse your reflection and shy away. You tie the string of the shorts and reach for the tank top. You pull it over your head and check yourself in the mirror. It will do. You hope. 

As you come out of the room, another door opens. You peer down the hall as Bucky emerges from your mother’s room. You gulp and flick your eyes away from him. He wears a pair of light blue shorts, so short you might mistake them for briefs. His thick thighs and torso flex with his movement as he approaches, a towel over his shoulder. 

“You changed your mind?” He asks as he comes closer. 

“Erm, well, I... I’ll give it a try. I’ve never really been in a hot tub, so...” You poke your fingertips together nervously. You don’t want to tell him your mother told you to be social. 

“Great, kinda feel like a loser sitting in there by myself. It’s really too bad your mom had to go in.” He sighs. 

Yeah, it is. You wonder why he didn’t mention it sooner. Or why he’s hanging around. You guess you don’t really know how things work around here anymore. 

“Don’t forget a towel,” he winks as he pats the one on his shoulder. “I’ll go get the cover off and you can come hop on in.” 

He brushes by you, his knuckle glancing off you as he does. You shuffle down to the linen closet and take out a towel. You don’t follow him right away. 

Your stomach is a flurry of nerves. It’s just the oatmeal. It always sits like a lump. You didn’t think about that, you were just hungry. 

You go downstairs and drag your feet to the back door. You come out onto the deck and peer around. The tub sits in the deck, installed where the table used to be. It steams as Bucky steps into it. He sighs and groans, muscles clenching up his back and sides. He must work out a lot. 

You look down at yourself. Self-consciousness creeps over you. It’s been a while since you thought so much about it. You tried not to focus much on your body; as long as you liked what you’re wearing, you don’t worry about what’s underneath. You don’t have the most extravagant taste but you have a few cute pieces. 

He lowers himself into the water and lets out another drone. He shifts around to face you but doesn’t seem to notice you as he closes his eyes and leans his head back. He takes a deep breath so his chest puffs out. 

You set your towel next to his on the small table near the edge. You near and stand at the lip of the tub. Can you just sneak away? 

“Hey,” his voice rolls over the bubbling water, “it’s not bad. Come on. It feels great. It’ll loosen you right up.” 

You nod and bite your lip. You get down on your butt before you ease yourself down onto the seat of the tub. The water steams and spits just beneath your shoulders. It is nice though it does raise a thick sheen across your forehead. 

“Mmm, trust me, when you’re mine age, you’ll need one of these,” he smirks. “So,” he stretches his arms around the frame of the tub, “what’s the plan, doll?’ 

“The plan?” You flap your lashes. 

“For the summer? Beach days with the girls? You wanna invite some friends over? You can have the tub to yourself,” he offers. 

“Mm, no, I... I’m looking for work. Uh, probably send out more applications.” You shrug. 

“Looking for a job? Ah, right, no more school, huh? Exciting. You got the whole world in front of you.” 

“Mhm, yeah,” you reach to rub your neck. 

“I’m sure you’ll still have time to hang out with your friends,” he insists. 

“Uh, I don’t... I don’t really have any,” you utter. You look away and stare at the fence. 

“No? Well, all my buddies are too busy for me. I know how you feel.” He says, “you know, we could be friends.” 

“Um, yeah, maybe,” you look at him again as you chew your lip. His eyes snap up from your chest. You look down and try not to show your horror. Your nipples are entirely visible as the pink fabric clings to you. You cross your arms. “You’ll be busy with my mom.” 

“Not all the time,” he says “You know, ever since she got this promotion, she’s been too busy for me.” 

“Ah, erm, I'm sorry.” 

“Why are you sorry?” He asks. 

You shake your head, “I don’t know...” 

“Mm, I know why,” he tilts his head. 

You stare at him in confusion. 

“You know a guy like me shouldn’t be kept waiting around. You’re a sweetheart, aren’t you? You can’t help but feel bad knowing I’m left all on my own. Lonely.” He traces a finger along the edge of the tub as he speaks. 

“I... guess. I don’t... know? I just...” You look away again. You can hardly stand the heat of the water as it boils your blood. 

He snickers and you wince as he shifts around the tub, sliding into the seat next to you. He slips his arm behind you as he does. You shrink down and stare at the deck railing. What is he doing? 

“This is nice, isn’t it? Getting to know each other?” His fingers tickle your shoulder as he crowds you. “You know, seems like we have a lot in common, doesn’t it?” 

“Um, erm,” you squirm in the seat. “I think... maybe... I should...” 

“Relax, it won’t do you any good if you don’t relax,” he girds. “I’m just saying, baby girl, seems like we’re both pretty lonely.” 

He leans back into the hot tub and lets his head fall back. You bend your arm, rubbing your other, and fidget. You want to just go but you’re scared to move. You don’t think you’re really afraid of him, he probably won’t stop you, but you’re just all locked up. 

You sit there, staring through the slats at the green lawn. The water babbles and your ears pulse. He continues to caress your shoulder. 

“Mm, baby girl, come on, just let yourself...” he taps your arm, “lean back, huh?” 

You obey. You lean back into the tub and slide down in the seat, trying to mimic him. Your head hits his arm as you recline. It is nice as the jets shoot up your back. 

“Wait, wait, you gotta get in the right...” he grabs your thigh and drags you towards him. “..place. Make sure you hit all the pressure points.” 

As he moves you, you spasm and cry out in surprise. A jet blows right against your shorts, a stream of water that sends tingles through you. You try to move back but he holds you in place. He squeezes your thigh and kneads. 

“Ah, yeah, baby girl, right there? Doesn’t it feel good?” 

You squeak as the water hits your clit through your thin shorts. You put your hand on his and wiggle. That only makes it more intense. Does he know what’s happening? 

“Please...” you gasp. 

“What did I say? Relax,” he continues to rub his fingertips into your thigh. “You’re all tense, baby girl. Let it go.” 

Your eyes round and you contort, trying to take the pressure off your clit. It doesn’t help. You puff out and grab onto his arm without thinking. He needs to let go. You can feel a throbbing inside of you. It hurts. Please, stop. 

The sensation crests and coils through you. Your muscles clench then release all at once. You squeal in shock and shame as your body twitches. You think you just... orgasmed? 

“Baby girl, what is it?” Bucky leans into you. 

“I...” you heave. “I-- nothing.” 

“Mmm, nothing?” His hand crawls up your leg and over your stomach. He twists and bends his arm, cradling your head and turning you to face him. You shiver as he cups your chest through the wet fabric and runs his thumb over the hard bud beneath. “Cause I think you just came in this nice clean water.” He leans in closer until you feel his breath against your lips, “baby girl, I thought you were going to be good for me?”