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#just a heads up but the next chapter will be the last one!!
stylesispunk · 3 days
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Silent Strain | Part iii
Outbreak! Joel Miller x f!reader
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chapter summary: Joel is afraid of letting you out of his sight and you were afraid of him slipping away.
w.c: 16k> (it was going to be 8k but this happened)
warnings: angst, mentions of panic attack, fluff. no proofreading. Probably some things won't make sense, but I felt pressured and I had to post this chapter.
a/n: hello! Last fic I posted didn't go how I expected but here's another chapter of this series. I hope you like this chapter and PLEASE share your thoughts with me. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
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As the first gloomy light of morning crept through the window, Joel felt like he could finally breathe again. The soft, grey dawn brought with it a sense of calm that the night had cruelly stolen away. He didn’t fear the darkness itself; he'd learned long ago to live within its shadows, but he feared the memories that the darkness brought to him. The loss, the crying, the desperation... and the blood.
The thought of losing another child, and losing you in the process, cracked the rough surface he had been hiding behind for so many years. It was too much; it was too familiar. As much as he tried to stay strong, the fear had gnawed at him, tearing at the fragile walls he had built around his heart.
Your breathing had steadied, though the pain had not fully subsided. He could feel your heartbeat against his chest, uneven but there, steadying his own frantic pulse. He had held you tighter, his own breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps, trying to stay calm for you, for the baby.
After the scare from last night, Joel had held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his face buried in your hair. He whispered softly; words meant to soothe you but also to keep his own panic at bay. "It's okay, darlin'. I'm here. Just breathe. Stay with me…"
The hours had dragged on, and every flicker of discomfort on your face sent a fresh wave of panic through him. He hadn't let himself sleep, afraid that if he closed his eyes, he might wake up to another nightmare.
Now, in the pale morning light, Joel watched you. Your eyes were closed, but your breathing was calm and even, a welcome change from the strained, pained gasps that had filled the room only hours before. He stroked a thumb gently along your arm, his touch feather-light, afraid of disturbing you but needing the contact to ground himself.
Ellie, who had kept a worried vigil nearby, finally stirred awake. She glanced over and saw Joel watching you, the lines of tension still etched into his face.
"Is… is she okay?" Ellie whispered, moving closer, her eyes wide with concern.
Joel nodded slowly, his voice barely a murmur. "Yeah, I think… I don’t know.”
Ellie let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "God, Joel, you looked so scared," she admitted, trying to lighten the mood, though her voice was shaky. "I’ve never seen you like that."
Joel’s lips twitched into a faint, weary smile. "Guess I'm getting soft, huh?"
Ellie leaned against the wall, watching him carefully. "That isn’t bad thing," she muttered, her eyes flicking over to you. “She needs you.”
Joel’s gaze softened, his eyes returning to you, still sleeping peacefully. Then, his gaze went to Ellie’s again.
“Ellie, can you take care of her for a moment?”
Ellie nodded, confused as Joel stood up, walking towards the door without saying a word to her.
Joel's steps were heavy, each one echoing softly in the quiet room. He reached the door and paused for a moment, his hand resting on the rough wood. His shoulders were tense, his head slightly bowed as if wrestling with some invisible weight.
Ellie watched him, frowning. "Joel?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Where are you going?"
He didn't turn around, didn't meet her gaze. "Just… need a minute," he replied, his tone low and strained. "I'll be back soon."
Ellie’s eyes flicked back to you, still resting, and then back to Joel. “She’s gonna wake up and ask for you,” she said, her voice gentle, but firm. "You sure you’re, okay?"
Joel nodded, though his movements were stiff, almost mechanical. "Yeah," he muttered, though he didn’t sound convinced. “I just need some air."
With that, he slipped out the door, the cold morning air rushing in as he opened it. He took a deep breath, feeling the sharp chill hit his lungs, grounding him momentarily. He stepped outside, letting the door close quietly behind him.
He stood there, just outside, his breath visible in the cold air, his mind racing. The panic from the night before still clung to him, like a dark shadow that refused to leave. His hands trembled slightly as he ran them through his hair, trying to calm himself down.
He couldn't shake the image of you in pain, the fear in your eyes, the blood on your hands. It felt like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from, a terrifying reminder of all the things he couldn't control, all the people he couldn't protect.
He closed his eyes, leaning against the wall of the house, his breathing coming in short, uneven bursts. He pressed his hands against his chest, trying to steady his heart, but the memories wouldn't let him rest. Memories of Sarah, of the pain of losing her, of the years spent hardening himself against that same pain.
And now, here he was again, facing the possibility of losing someone he cared about more than he wanted to admit.
"Come on, Joel," she muttered under her breath, killing the silence on Joel’s mind.
“Go back inside” he said.
Ellie jumped slightly at his words, her eyes darting to Joel. She could see the tightness in his shoulders, the tension in his jaw. For a moment, she considered arguing, but something in his voice stopped her. There was a rawness there, a plea she hadn’t heard before.
“Joel…” she started, her voice softer now, more careful.
His eyes flicked to hers, the pain clear, almost palpable. “Ellie, just… go back inside,” he repeated, his tone almost breaking. “Please.”
She hesitated, biting her lip, before nodding “You know it’s not your fault.”
Joel's face tightened at Ellie's words, his jaw clenching as if he was holding back a torrent of emotion. He shook his head, looking away for a moment, his gaze hard and distant, lost in anger and regret.
“I dragged her here,” he muttered, his voice rough and strained. “Knowing her state, knowing what could happen… I should’ve left her behind. Should’ve kept her safe.”
Ellie took a step closer, her own face a mix of frustration and empathy. “But you didn’t,” she argued softly. “Because you knew she’d never forgive you if you did. She wanted to be with you, Joel.”
He looked back at her, his eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing her words. “It doesn’t matter,” he replied, his voice a little louder now, a little more forceful. “I still made the call. I still put her in danger.”
Ellie shook her head. “You’re doing everything you can to protect her. You think she doesn’t know that?” She took another step closer, her tone firmer. “She trusts you, Joel. She believes in you. And… so do I.”
For a moment, Joel’s expression softened, the harsh lines of his face easing slightly. But then he closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath, as if trying to steady himself. “I don’t know if that’s enough, kid,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Ellie sighed, glancing back at the door. “It has to be,” she said. “Because she needs you now more than ever. And you’re the one who’s gonna keep her safe.”
Joel let out a long, shaky breath, his shoulders slumping as if a weight had settled on them. He looked at Ellie, his expression caught between determination and fear. "Yeah… I hope you're right," he murmured, almost to himself.
Ellie reached out, touching his arm gently, a rare moment of softness between them. “Just… don’t beat yourself up too much, alright?” she said, her voice low. “She’s gonna need you to be strong for her. And so am I.”
Joel and Ellie stepped quietly back inside the house, the dim light from the early morning casting long shadows across the walls. Joel's eyes immediately moved to you, lying on the couch, your face still and peaceful in sleep. For a brief moment, he felt a strange calm settle over him, just seeing you safe, resting.
But as if sensing their presence, you began to stir. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, adjusting to the dim light. The ache in your body was still there, a dull throb in your stomach, but the sharp pain had subsided, leaving only a sense of heaviness. You blinked a few times, your gaze settling on Joel and Ellie as they stood by the door, both looking back at you with relief.
“Hey…” you murmured; your voice raspy with sleep. You tried to push yourself up, but Joel was by your side in an instant, his hands gently helping you to sit up. His touch was careful, as if he was afraid you might break.
“Take it easy,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing.
You nodded, wincing slightly as you adjusted yourself. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… I just…” Your voice trailed off, and you swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “I’m okay, really.”
Ellie stepped closer, her eyes wide with concern, but there was a hint of a teasing smile on her lips. “You better be, ‘cause I don’t think I can handle Joel being that freaked out again,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.
You chuckled softly, a weak smile spreading across your face. “Guess I gave you both a bit of a scare, huh?”
Joel’s expression softened, his thumb gently brushing against the back of your hand. “Yeah, you could say that,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
He didn’t meet you gaze, and you know damn well what that meant. You noticed the way his eyes seemed to avoid yours, his gaze fixed on some invisible point in the room. His thumb kept moving over the back of your hand, but there was a tightness in his jaw, a hesitation in his posture that made your heart ache.
“Ellie,” you said softly, turning your head toward her. She paused, halfway through rummaging in the supply bag, her eyes darting between you and Joel. “Could you… give us a minute?”
Ellie hesitated, her gaze lingering on Joel for a moment, and then on you. She seemed to understand that something more needed to be said between the two of you. She nodded slowly, trying to mask her concern with a casual shrug. "Yeah, sure," she muttered, trying to play it cool, even as her curiosity buzzed beneath the surface. “I’ll, uh, go check on the weather or something.”
She grabbed her jacket, slinging it over her shoulders and headed toward the door. “But if I hear any yelling, I’m coming back in,” she added with a small grin, trying to lighten the mood before she slipped out the door, leaving the two of you alone.
The room was suddenly much quieter without Ellie’s presence. The only sounds were the crackling of the dying fire and the distant, muted wind outside. You turned back to Joel, your eyes searching his face. He still wasn’t looking at you, his thumb still moving in that steady rhythm against your hand.
“Joel,” you whispered, trying to draw his gaze back to yours. "Look at me."
He hesitated, his shoulders tense, but finally, he lifted his eyes to meet yours. You could see the conflict there, the worry, the guilt. “What is it?” you asked gently. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
He took a deep breath, his jaw clenching for a moment before he spoke. "I… I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “For all of it. For dragging you out here, for… putting you in danger."
You shook your head, squeezing his hand. “Joel, I made that choice. I knew what I was getting into.”
He shook his head, his eyes dropping again, filled with that familiar guilt. “No… you didn’t. Not really,” he muttered.
You reached up, cupping his cheek with your free hand, forcing him to look at you again. “Joel, stop,” you said firmly, your voice steady. “Nothing is going to happen to us. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”
He closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath. “I’m just… I’m so damn scared,” he confessed, his voice breaking slightly. "Of losing you. Of losing another…"
You felt a lump form in your throat, understanding the weight of his words, the depth of his fear. You leaned closer, pressing your forehead against his, your voice soft.
“Joel, the baby is okay,” you reassured him softly, hoping your words would ease some of the fear you saw in his eyes. "I can feel it."
He shook his head slightly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “How do you know?” he asked, his voice low and rough. There was a tremor in it, a crack that revealed the depth of his concern. “How do you know when we’re out here, and everything’s…” He trailed off, his breath hitching.
You swallowed, trying to find the right words, to offer him some kind of comfort. “I just do,” you whispered, moving closer to him. “I can feel it. Maybe it’s just… a mother’s instinct. But I believe it, Joel. I feel like… this baby is strong.”
Joel's eyes softened at your words, but the fear still lingered there, heavy and ever-present. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to steady himself. His hand moved to rest on your stomach, his palm pressing gently against the swell. He closed his eyes, as if trying to feel what you felt, to believe in what you were saying.
“Strong,” he repeated softly, almost like he was testing the word, trying it out to see if it fit. "I hope so… I really do."
You placed your hand over his, squeezing it lightly. “I know so,” you assured him, your voice unwavering. “I know it’s a little tiny thing but..I feel it.”
He exhaled slowly; his breath warm against your cheek. “I want to believe you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I do."
“Then believe me,” you urged, your thumb brushing against his cheek in a soothing motion. “We’ve made it this far, right? We’re almost there, Joel… we just need to hold on a little longer.”
He nodded, a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah,”
For a moment, the room was silent except for the crackling of the fire and the faint sound of the wind outside. Joel finally met your gaze again, a mix of hope and fear in his eyes. "I’ve lost so much,” he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t… I can’t lose you, too.”
Your heart ached at his words, understanding the depth of his pain. You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, trying to pour all the reassurance you could into that touch. "You won't," you whispered against his mouth. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."
He kissed your back, a little more desperately this time, as if he were afraid you might disappear. You held him close, feeling his body tremble slightly against yours, his breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts.
Ellie pushed the door open, her footsteps echoing in the quiet room. She froze mid-step, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of you and Joel, wrapped in each other's arms, lips just parting from the kiss. Her face scrunched up in mock disgust, and she rolled her eyes dramatically.
“Ugh, seriously?” she groaned, putting her hands on her hips. “If you two wanted to get all mushy, you could’ve at least sent me away or something. Or, I don’t know, given me a warning!”
Joel pulled back, a faint blush creeping up his neck. He coughed, trying to mask the embarrassment with a stern look. “Ellie,” he started, his voice gruff, but she just waved him off.
“No, no, it’s fine," she said with a playful grin, "I mean, I get it… the world’s falling apart, and you’re all about the dramatic declarations of love. But can you keep it PG for the kid in the room?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension of the moment breaking as you met Ellie’s teasing gaze. “Sorry, Ellie,” you chuckled.
She rolled her eyes again but smiled, moving to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. "Yeah, yeah. Just… don't make me an unwilling participant in your cheesy romance, okay?" She paused, glancing between the two of you, her expression softening just a bit. "But… I’m glad you’re both okay.”
Joel shook his head, a small, reluctant smile forming on his lips. "We’re okay, kiddo," he replied softly, his voice still carrying a hint of emotion. "We’re all okay."
Ellie grinned, nudging Joel lightly with her shoulder. “Good,” she muttered, “'Cause I need both of you.”
You and Joel exchanged amused glances, and for a moment, the heaviness in the room seemed to lift, replaced by a sense of warmth and comfort in knowing you were all still together, facing whatever came next.
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Four months had passed since that tense night, and winter had settled in with a cold grip. The once vibrant landscape had transformed into a stark, snowy expanse. You, now seven months pregnant, felt the weight of your journey more than ever, but the quiet strength of Joel and Ellie beside you made the harsh conditions more bearable.
Now seven months pregnant, you felt the weight of it all pressing down on you, not just the baby growing inside, but the miles you had trudged through the wilderness. Your feet ached, your back was sore, and your hands were red and raw from the cold. Yet, the quiet strength of Joel and Ellie beside you made the harsh conditions somehow more bearable. Joel, ever watchful, kept close, his eyes always scanning the horizon for any sign of danger, his presence a constant comfort. Ellie, with her relentless spirit, kept the mood light with her jokes and sarcastic comments, doing her best to distract you from the relentless chill.
The trio of you had walked through miles of frost-covered terrain, the snow crunching beneath your boots. Each step was a reminder of how far you had come and how much further you still had to go. Wyoming was just ahead, a small but significant milestone in your quest for safety and a future.
Joel trudged ahead, his face set in determined lines, but every now and then he would glance back at you, making sure you were okay. He had taken to carrying a small pack with supplies, his concern for you palpable. Ellie, now a bit more grown and experienced, walked close by, occasionally breaking the silence with a joke or a comment, trying to keep your spirits up.
You looked at Joel’s profile, his face partially hid the fear on his bones and despite his gruff exterior, he had become your rock through this tumultuous journey. You had come to rely on his strength and his soft, rare moments of tenderness.
December 1st
“Winter has arrived with a vengeance. The cold is biting, and our progress has slowed. We’re staying in an old barn for the night, huddled together to keep warm. Joel’s been making sure the fire stays lit, while Ellie tries to make the best of our situation.
I can feel the baby kicking more strongly now. It’s a constant reminder of why we’re enduring all of this. Joel’s been more attentive, though still guarded. He’s trying so hard to protect us, and I wish he could see that his presence alone is enough.
The snow makes everything look different. Almost beautiful, in a way that feels wrong given the world we’re living in. We made camp in a small cabin tonight. Joel found some firewood, and Ellie kept herself busy by trying to make soup out of what little we had. She’s worried about me, even though she pretends not to be. I can see it in the way she watches me, like she’s waiting for something to happen. Joel, too, keeps his eyes on me, never letting me stray too far. I think he’s afraid, maybe more than he’ll ever admit.
The baby’s been kicking more. It’s a strange feeling, like little taps from the inside, reminding me that there’s something good in this world. Something worth fighting for.”
The cold wind whipped around you, making it difficult to see very far ahead. Joel motioned for a short break, and you gratefully lowered yourself onto a nearby snow-covered log. Ellie quickly dug out some snacks and hot drinks from her pack, her hands red and numb from the cold.
“Here,” she said, handing you a steaming cup. “This should help warm you up.”
You took the cup gratefully, savoring the warmth as it seeped into your fingers and then your body. “Thanks, Ellie,” you said, smiling. “I don’t know how we’d have made it without you.”
Ellie shrugged; her cheeks flushed from the cold. “Just doing my part,” she said with a wink. “And keeping you guys from going completely crazy.”
Joel joined you, taking a seat beside you and offering you a small piece of dried fruit. “We’re almost there,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Just a bit further, and we’ll be in Wyoming.”
You nodded, taking comfort in his words. “I know,” you replied. “It’s just... sometimes it feels like it’s never going to end.”
Joel’s hand reached out, gently resting on your knee for a few minutes to provide the comfort he knew you needed.
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As you made your way through the snow-covered terrain, the excitement of nearing Wyoming provided a much-needed boost. Joel’s usual calm demeanor had been unwavering through most of the journey, but today, there was an underlying tension in his movements that you and Ellie didn’t immediately notice.
Joel’s breaths were more rapid and shallow, though he tried to mask it behind a determined facade. He kept a firm grip on his pack and occasionally glanced around with a slightly strained look. His face, though mostly hidden by his scarf, betrayed signs of an inner struggle that he wasn’t quite ready to share.
Ellie’s voice broke the silence, sharp and unfiltered as always.
"Are you dying?" she asked, half-joking but with an edge of genuine concern. She was walking beside you, her eyes narrowed at Joel, who hadn’t slowed his pace despite the obvious tension in his movements.
Joel grunted, his response delayed as he adjusted the pack on his shoulder. "No," he said curtly, his breath coming out in visible puffs in the cold air. "I’m fine."
"You don’t look fine," Ellie pressed, glancing at you as if seeking backup. "You’re all... sweaty and weird."
You frowned, watching Joel carefully now. Ellie wasn’t wrong—there was something off about him today. The way his shoulders hunched, his steps just a bit too heavy, like he was pushing through something. He had been quiet, more so than usual, and you could sense the strain behind his eyes whenever he glanced back at you.
"Joel?" you asked, your voice softer than Ellie’s but carrying the same concern. "What’s going on?"
He slowed his steps, finally stopping to catch his breath. His hand went to his side, rubbing it briefly before he straightened up, avoiding eye contact. "It’s nothin’," he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual strength. "Just... pushin' too hard today. We’re close, is all. No time to slow down."
Ellie crossed her arms, her eyes flicking between you and Joel with a skeptical look. "Right," she said, not convinced. "You’re not dying, but you’re also... not dying?"
Joel shot her a look that could’ve silenced most people, but not Ellie. "I said I’m fine."
You stepped closer to him, concern outweighing your hesitation. "Joel, you need to tell us if something’s wrong. You can’t carry this all by yourself."
He exhaled through his nose, the stubbornness etched in his expression softening for just a moment. "I’ll be alright," he said, though now his voice was quieter, less defensive. "Just... need a minute. We’ll keep movin’ after that."
Ellie threw her hands up. "Well, that’s reassuring," she muttered, but you could tell the worry hadn’t left her eyes.
You stayed close to Joel, watching him as he tried to steady his breathing, his hands resting on his knees for support. The tension that had been building inside you all day finally surfaced, the reality of how much you were relying on him pressing down on you. But even now, as he struggled, he was still trying to protect you both.
Joel glanced up at you, catching your gaze, and for a brief second, his walls dropped. There it was—the vulnerability he was so good at hiding, but not today. Not from you.
“I want to rest for a bit” you said, placing your hand over your swollen belly. You needed the rest, but you also wanted to force Joel to slow down a bit.
Joel’s eyes flicked down to your hand resting on your belly, then back up to meet your gaze. His expression softened, the usual stubborn resistance he wore melting away for a moment. He sighed, clearly torn between pushing forward and giving in to the obvious need for a break. You could see the struggle in him—the need to keep going, to get you all to safety—but he couldn’t deny the toll it was taking on both of you.
"Yeah, alright," he muttered, standing upright and scanning the area. "We’ll rest."
Ellie, who had been quietly watching the exchange, gave a slight huff of relief. "Finally," she said, throwing her pack down onto the snow and plopping down next to it. She stretched her legs out in front of her, rubbing her hands together for warmth. "You both needed this."
You nodded, grateful for the pause, though your focus remained on Joel. He had been pushing himself too hard, and the weight of that knowledge gnawed at you. It wasn’t just about the miles or the cold—it was the responsibility, the fear of what would happen if he couldn’t protect you both. You were carrying a life inside of you, and while you knew Joel would never admit it, that added an extra layer of pressure on him.
Joel knelt down beside you, his eyes still scanning the landscape as though danger could appear at any moment. "We won’t stay long," he said, his voice low. "Just enough time to catch our breath."
But it wasn’t true.
As night wore in, Joel had begun gathering wood for a fire, his movements stiff from the weight he carried, not just the physical strain but the burden of keeping you all safe. You watched him silently, your breath visible in the cold night air, as he crouched near a small clearing, arranging the branches and kindling with expert precision. The flicker of the firelight cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw.
Ellie sat nearby, uncharacteristically quiet, watching Joel with a mixture of curiosity and concern. She hugged her knees to her chest, her usual stream of sarcastic comments absent for now. The cold seemed to have silenced her usual banter, or maybe she was just tired, like the rest of you.
Joel caught your gaze from across the fire, his eyes locking onto yours for just a moment longer than usual. He was tired—so tired. But he wouldn’t say it. He wouldn’t admit that he needed to rest just as much as the rest of you, if not more. His protectiveness ran so deep, it was like a force of nature, driving him even when his body begged for relief.
"You should sleep," he muttered, breaking the silence, his voice rough but soft. "I’ll keep watch."
"You need to rest too, Joel," you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper over the crackling fire. "You can’t keep pushing yourself like this."
He didn’t respond right away, his eyes flickering to the flames as if avoiding the truth of what you were saying. Ellie, sensing the tension, chimed in from her spot by the fire.
"Yeah, seriously, man. You’ve been on ‘protector mode’ for hours now. You’re not a machine, you know."
Joel grunted, his usual response when he didn’t want to argue but also didn’t want to agree. He poked at the fire with a stick, the sparks floating up into the dark sky. "I’m fine," he said again, the same phrase he’d been using all day, but it sounded weaker now. Less convincing.
You leaned back against the cave wall, watching him through the flickering light. He was still trying to protect you, still carrying the weight of all your lives on his shoulders. But you could see it wearing on him, the exhaustion, the fear he wouldn’t admit to, the responsibility that felt crushing.
"Joel," you said quietly, "we’re not going to make it if you don’t take care of yourself too.
His eyes snapped to yours again, something unreadable passing through them. For a moment, you thought he might argue, might tell you once again that he was fine. But then he sighed, the sound heavy with everything he wasn’t saying.
"I’ll rest when you two are safe," he said, his voice rough and tired, like he was trying to hold back the weight of the world. "I promise."
Ellie threw a stick into the fire, watching it crackle with an unimpressed look. "Great. So, we’re just supposed to wait until you collapse?"
Joel shot her a look, but it lacked its usual sharpness. You could see that even he was starting to acknowledge the truth.
And just when he was about to say something, you moved uncomfortable. 
Before Joel could respond to Ellie’s sharp comment, you shifted in your spot, a small grimace passing over your face as the baby kicked again. This time, it was stronger, more insistent, and the discomfort rippled through you unexpectedly. You instinctively placed a hand over your belly, your breath catching as the sensation overwhelmed you.
Both Joel and Ellie immediately noticed the change in your posture. Joel's eyes widened, all traces of exhaustion vanishing in an instant as he leaned closer, his expression full of concern.
“What is it?” His voice was tight, his protective instincts kicking in instantly. “Are you alright?”
You nodded, though the tension in your face said otherwise. “I’m fine… it’s just… the baby’s kicking. It’s strong.”
Ellie scooted over, her eyes wide with curiosity and a mix of awe. “Whoa, really?” she asked, her usual snark replaced by genuine interest. “Can I feel?”
You smiled, despite the ache, and gestured for Ellie to come closer. She tentatively reached out, her small hand resting on your belly. A few moments passed, and then the baby kicked again, more pronounced this time. Ellie’s face lit up, her eyes going wide with amazement.
“That’s wild,” she breathed. “It’s like… a real person in there, huh?”
Joel remained still, his expression a mixture of hesitation and uncertainty. His eyes flickered from your face to your belly, where Ellie’s hand still rested, her excitement palpable. But Joel… his gaze was distant, conflicted, as though something heavy was weighing on his mind.
You watched him for a moment, noticing the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched like he was fighting something deep within. He had been so protective of you and the baby, yet now, there was this hesitation that hadn’t been there before. Like the reality of it all was finally sinking in, and it scared him in a way he hadn’t expected.
Your heart softened at the sight of him—this man who had carried so much weight on his shoulders, trying to keep all of you safe. And now, with the baby growing inside you, it seemed like the responsibility was becoming even more overwhelming for him.
Without saying a word, you reached for Joel’s hand, gently pulling it toward your belly. He resisted at first, his eyes meeting yours with an uncertain look. But you smiled, reassuring him, and after a beat, he let you guide his hand to rest over where the baby had just kicked.
For a moment, the world seemed to stop. His hand, warm and rough, pressed against your belly, and then the baby kicked again—strong and insistent, like it was reminding him of its presence. Joel’s breath hitched, and his eyes widened in surprise. You could see the emotions flashing across his face—fear, wonder, maybe even hope—but he didn’t pull away.
He swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. “That’s… that’s the baby,” he said, his tone filled with awe, like he couldn’t quite believe it was real.
You nodded, your hand still resting on top of his, offering comfort. “Yeah, Joel. That’s our baby.”
For a moment, Joel just stared at your belly, his hand still pressed against you. Then, slowly, his walls started to crumble. His shoulders slumped, and he let out a shaky breath, the tension that had been building inside him for days finally releasing.
As you watched Ellie marvel at the sensation of the baby kicking, you couldn’t help but notice Joel’s face. His eyes, though focused on your belly, were distant, clouded with thoughts you knew all too well. His silence spoke louder than any words could, and you could see the weight of it pressing down on him, the same doubts and fears he always tried to hide. But this time, there was no hiding.
Without thinking, you gently placed your hand over Ellie’s, signaling for her to stop. "Hey, El… let’s give the baby a little break," you said, your voice soft but firm.
Ellie looked up at you, confused for a second, before pulling her hand back and sitting up straight. She shrugged nonchalantly, though her eyes lingered on your belly, clearly still amazed. “Yeah, sure. That was pretty cool though,” she muttered, leaning back and poking the fire with another stick.
But your attention wasn’t on Ellie anymore. It was on Joel. His hand was still resting on your belly, and he hadn’t moved. You could see the tension in his face, the way he was trying to hold it together for both of you. He needed to rest, to let himself break for just a moment, but you knew how hard that was for him. How much he felt like everything was on his shoulders.
"Joel," you said quietly, almost more gently than you intended. His name felt different on your tongue, like it wasn’t really you speaking.
He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still locked on your belly. You took his hand and slowly lifted it away, placing it in his lap. He blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, and finally looked at you. The weariness in his face was undeniable now, and you could see the cracks in the facade he always tried so hard to keep in place.
“You need to rest,” you said, your voice soft but firm, with an edge that wasn’t quite your usual tone. It was more insistent, more like a command than a request. You weren’t just asking him to take a break—you were telling him.
Joel’s brows furrowed, his lips parting slightly as if to protest, but you cut him off before he could speak.
“I mean it,” you added, surprising even yourself with the intensity of your words. “You’re not going to help anyone if you collapse, Joel. We can’t keep going like this.”
His mouth closed, his eyes searching your face as if trying to figure out what to say, how to argue with you without pushing too hard. But he couldn’t. Not this time. Not with the way you were looking at him, with that mix of worry and determination that left no room for debate.
Ellie, sensing the shift in tone, stayed quiet, glancing between the two of you. For once, she didn’t throw in a sarcastic comment. She just waited, watching the fire crackle and listening to the tension settle around you.
Joel let out a long breath, his shoulders sagging as the fight drained out of him. He nodded, though it seemed reluctant, like he still couldn’t fully let go of the idea that he had to be the one holding it all together.
“Alright,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “Just for a bit.”
You exhaled, relieved, but you still held his gaze, making sure he understood. “It’s not just for us, Joel. It’s for you too. You need this.”
He nodded again, and this time, it seemed a little more genuine. “Yeah… I know,” he whispered, his voice raw with exhaustion.
Ellie glanced up, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Finally,” she muttered under her breath, though there was no bite in her words this time.
As Joel shifted to find a more comfortable position, he laid his head against your lap, his face pressing gently against your belly. The closeness of him, the warmth of his body leaning into yours, made something inside you tighten—an emotion you couldn’t quite name but one you understood all too well. His breaths slowed as the exhaustion finally caught up to him, his body surrendering to the rest he so desperately needed.
Your hand moved on its own, fingers threading through his hair, then brushing down to caress the rough stubble on his face. The small gesture felt both intimate and protective, like you were guarding him for once, in the only way you could. His face softened in his sleep, the tension that had etched itself into his features over the last few days easing away.
Ellie, watching the scene unfold, stifled a quiet chuckle. "Well, that’s a sight," she whispered, shaking her head with a faint smile. “Didn’t think I’d ever see Joel like this.”
You gave her a soft, knowing smile, your hand never leaving Joel’s face. “Yeah, me neither,” you whispered back. The fire crackled between you, casting soft shadows on the cave walls. For the first time in what felt like forever, it was you and Ellie staying awake, the weight of the night’s silence shared between the two of you instead of Joel.
Ellie stretched out her legs, staring into the flames. “So... how’s it feel?” she asked, her voice low as if she didn’t want to disturb Joel. “Y’know, the baby. It’s kinda crazy to think that in the middle of all this... you’re growing a person.”
You let out a quiet laugh, glancing down at Joel’s sleeping form, then at your belly. “Yeah... it’s crazy,” you admitted, your voice soft but filled with a quiet wonder. “But it feels... right, somehow. Like maybe this is the one good thing left in the world.”
Ellie nodded thoughtfully; her gaze still locked on the fire. “Guess we all need something good to fight for.”
Silence settled over you both, the crackling of the fire the only sound as the night stretched on. The cave was cold, but there was a warmth in this moment, a quiet bond growing between you and Ellie as Joel slept soundly against you.
For the first time in a long time, it felt like you had a moment to breathe and be still. And in that stillness, with Joel safe and Ellie by your side, you allowed yourself to hope, just for a little while, that maybe everything would be okay.
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December 10th
We made it to Jackson today. It’s hard to believe after everything, but we’re finally here. We’re safe… but something doesn’t feel right.
Tommy was so happy to see us. To see Joel. I saw it in his eyes, the relief of having his brother back. And when he looked at my belly, he was surprised, of course, but happy. Even Maria, his wife is pregnant too. She seemed genuinely excited for us, for what this means. But Joel... Joel didn’t react the way I thought he would.
I’ve seen him handle danger, grief, and loss; nothing seemed to break him. But today, when Tommy told the news when Maria shared her news, I could see something change in Joel. He didn’t smile, didn’t share in the moment like I hoped he would. Instead, he shut down. And it hurts. It hurts to think that maybe he’s not ready for this, for us. Maybe he’s scared, maybe it’s just too much. I don’t know, but it’s like I’m carrying this alone.
I’m scared too. But I want this baby. I want us to be a family. And I thought… I thought Joel did too.
He’s with Tommy now, catching up after a long time or at least pretending to. I can feel something shifted, the distance between us growing, even though we’re finally somewhere safe. What if Jackson doesn’t fix this? What if the problem isn’t out there, but here between us?
You set the pen down and closed the journal, feeling the weight of the words settling into your heart. You glanced over at the new clothes Maria had left for you in the bed.
As you dressed in the clean, comfortable clothes Maria had left, the familiar weight of worry crept back in. The thoughts of the QZ and everything you’d been through tugged at the edges of your mind, but you pushed them aside, determined to move forward and focus on this new chapter in Jackson. This was supposed to be a fresh start. You were determined to make it feel that way.
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The cold air outside hit you as you stepped out of the house, but it was fresh, invigorating. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself and began walking through the quiet streets of Jackson, hoping that a bit of solitude would clear your head. But as you passed by one of the larger buildings in the town, you heard voices, low but familiar.
Joel and Tommy were inside.
You hesitated by the window, not meaning to eavesdrop, but you couldn’t help yourself. The tension in Joel had been building all day, and Tommy’s words floated out into the cold air.
“I thought you’d be happy for me, Joel,” Tommy said, his voice carrying a mix of frustration and concern. “I’m going to be a father. Can you believe that? I thought—hell, I thought you’d understand more than anyone.”
There was a long pause before Joel responded, and you could practically feel the weight of what was about to come.
“I don’t know if I want to be a father again,” Joel said, his voice low, almost too quiet to hear. It wasn’t a confession so much as an admission, like it was something he hadn’t even allowed himself to think about until now. “Tommy… it’s different this time.”
“You’ve got someone, Joel. She’s—she’s carrying your kid. That’s not something you just walk away from,” Tommy replied, clearly trying to keep his patience. “You don’t get to be scared and check out now. That’s not you. At least, that’s not the brother I know.”
“I know that,” Joel said, but there was a tremor in his voice that betrayed him. “But I’ve been through this before. And it didn’t end well. What if I can’t do it again? What if I can’t protect them?”
Tommy’s voice softened. “You’re not the same man you were back then. And you’ve got people now. You’re not alone in this, Joel. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”
Another silence followed, and you found yourself holding your breath, waiting for Joel to say something—anything—that would give you an idea of what he was feeling. But when he spoke again, his voice was strained, full of conflict.
“I want to be there for them. I do. But I don’t know how to be a father anymore. After Sarah... it feels like too much.”
Hearing him say her name, his late daughter, hit you like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t heard Joel talk about Sarah much, but you knew how deeply her loss had affected him. The silence that followed was thick with emotion, as if Tommy was waiting for his brother to find the words he was searching for.
“Then learn, Joel,” Tommy finally said, his tone soft but firm. “You can still be a father. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be you trying.”
You could hear the clink of glasses as Tommy poured them both a drink. Joel didn’t respond right away, and you took that as your cue to move away from the window, giving them the space they needed.
As you walked away from the window, your thoughts swirling with everything you’d just overheard, you almost didn’t notice Maria approaching from down the street. Her footsteps were quiet on the dirt path, and by the time you spotted her, she was already close enough to call your name.
“Hey,” Maria greeted softly, her eyes warm but cautious. She seemed to sense the heaviness on your shoulders. “I was just coming by to check on you. How’re you settling in?”
You managed a small smile, though the weight of what you’d overheard lingered in your chest. “It’s... good. It’s a lot to take in, but it’s good here.”
Maria studied your face for a moment, as if she could see the mix of emotions brewing beneath the surface. She gave a small nod, choosing not to press. Instead, she shifted the conversation to something else. “I wanted to let you know, we’ve got an ultrasound machine here in town. It’s old, but it works. If you want, we could take a look at the baby, make sure everything’s okay.”
Her offer took you by surprise, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. The thought of seeing the baby—of actually hearing its heartbeat, seeing it move—was both exciting and terrifying. You hadn’t had the chance for anything like this since leaving the QZ, and the opportunity stirred a mixture of emotions you hadn’t quite prepared for.
“I… I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down at your belly.
Maria smiled gently, her understanding clear. “I get it. It can be overwhelming, especially with everything you’ve been through. But maybe it’ll help. You were out there for so long, it wouldn’t be bad give it a check.
You hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Yeah, maybe. I think I’d like that.”
“Good,” Maria said, her smile growing. “Okay, let’s go”
“What now?” you asked, surprised and afraid, there was a strange feeling on your heart at the thought of seeing your baby for the first time.
Maria chuckled softly, sensing your hesitation. “No time like the present,” she said, her voice calm and reassuring. “I know it’s a lot, but you’ve been through worse. This is something good, something for you. And for the baby.”
You felt a flutter of nerves as the reality of it hit you—the idea of seeing the baby, confirming its presence in a way that was more than just kicks and feelings. It was a lot to take in, and your heart raced at the thought.
“But... what if something’s wrong?” you blurted out, your voice quieter than you intended. It was a fear you hadn’t allowed yourself to voice until now, but it was there, gnawing at the back of your mind.
Maria’s expression softened even more. “That’s exactly why we check. If something’s wrong, we’ll know, and we’ll take care of it. But listen, you’ve come this far. You’re strong, and so is your baby.” She placed a gentle hand on your arm, grounding you. “You’re not alone anymore, okay?”
Her words gave you a sense of comfort you hadn’t realized you needed. You took a deep breath and nodded, more firmly this time. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
Maria smiled again, “Do you want to find Joel first?” she asked
But you thought about his words, and said no.
You shook your head, the memory of Joel's hesitant confession weighing on your mind. "No," you said quietly, but with conviction. "Not right now."
Maria studied your face for a moment, her expression thoughtful but understanding. She didn’t push, simply nodded. "Alright," she said gently. "This is your moment, then. Just you and the baby."
You appreciated her respect for your choice. As much as you wanted Joel to be there, to share this experience with you, part of you knew he wasn’t ready. He needed time to sort through his own fears, and you needed this moment to yourself, to connect with the life growing inside you without the burden of anyone else's emotions.
“Let’s go,” you said, your voice firmer now, a strange mix of nerves and excitement bubbling up inside you.
Maria led the way back toward the clinic, with Ellie joining you both, the air cool and crisp as you walked through the quiet streets of Jackson. Inside, the warmth of the room wrapped around you, soothing some of your tension. As you lay back on the table, ready to see your baby for the first time, you felt a flicker of hope, a hope that despite everything, you and this little life inside you could make it.
The door creaked open, and the doctor stepped in. He was tall, with tousled brown hair and kind eyes that immediately locked onto yours. There was a brief pause as he stood in the doorway, his expression shifting from professionalism to something softer, almost as if he were momentarily caught off guard.
"Hi, I’m Dr. Paul..." he trailed off, his gaze lingering on you just a second too long before he quickly composed himself, stepping further into the room. "Paul Mesner," he added, clearing his throat, his tone now more formal, though there was a warmth in it that you couldn’t quite place.
You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, unsure of the sudden tension that filled the small room. It wasn’t overwhelming, but you could feel something shift in the air, as though Paul had felt something the moment he laid eyes on you.
Maria, standing by your side, glanced between the two of you, raising an eyebrow but choosing not to comment.
As you lay back on the examination table, the soft hum of the ultrasound machine filled the room. Maria stood nearby, and Ellie sat on a chair in the corner, her legs bouncing restlessly. Paul prepared the equipment, his movements efficient but gentle.
Ellie glanced around nervously, trying to act cool, but you could see the curiosity and excitement in her eyes. “So… this is where we get to see the little peanut?” she asked, her voice trying to mask her eagerness.
You smiled at her, feeling a sense of comfort that she was here. “Yeah, Ellie. This is where we’ll see the baby.”
When Paul applied the gel to your belly, Ellie’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t say anything, her attention fully focused on the screen. As the image flickered to life, the small form of the baby appeared, its heartbeat strong and steady. The room seemed to hold its breath.
He guided you through the process, explaining each step, though his voice was gentle, almost reverent. As the cold gel touched your skin and the machine came to life, Paul’s eyes never strayed far from yours. When he finally looked at the screen, the image of your baby appeared, and so it’s heart beating that filled the silence of the room.
“There it is,” Paul said softly, the awe clear in his voice. He glanced at you with that same warmth, but your focus was entirely on the screen. But when he looked at you again, there was something undeniably personal in his eyes, like you were the only person in the room.
Ellie leaned forward; her face lit up with wonder. “Holy shit… that’s… that’s the baby?”
You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away from the tiny form. “Yeah, that’s the baby.”
Ellie’s gaze flickered from the screen to you, then back again. “That’s… insane. It’s real,” she whispered, her usual bravado melting away in the face of something she couldn’t joke about.
Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at the tiny image on the screen, tears welling in your eyes.
As you stared at the tiny, flickering heartbeat on the screen, a rush of emotions overwhelmed you. Tears blurred your vision, but you couldn’t look away from the image. It was real—your baby, alive and growing inside of you. The room was quiet, except for the steady thrum of the baby’s heartbeat echoing in the air, a soft, rhythmic reminder that you were carrying a new life.
“Ellie,” you whispered, looking at her, “you’re going to be part of this too. You’re family.”
Ellie blinked, clearly moved by your words, though she quickly masked it with a grin. “Thank you” she said, smiling down at you.
Paul’s gentle voice brought you back, and when you glanced up at him, he was still looking at you, his eyes filled with something more than just professional care. It was warmth, empathy... maybe something else.
"You’re doing really well," he said again, his voice barely above a whisper, as though he didn’t want to break the delicate atmosphere of the moment.
You smiled weakly, feeling the tears spill over, but you quickly wiped them away. "I wasn’t sure what to expect," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "But hearing the heartbeat... it’s incredible."
Paul nodded, his gaze still steady on you, his expression soft. "It’s a moment that changes everything," he said, his voice full of sincerity. "You’ll remember this for the rest of your life."
His words settled over you like a blanket of reassurance, and for the first time since you had arrived in Jackson, you felt a small sense of peace. There was still so much uncertainty ahead, but in this moment, everything felt possible.
Maria, who had been standing quietly off to the side, finally broke the silence. "It’s beautiful, isn’t it?" she said, her voice filled with genuine warmth. She walked over to you and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You’ve been through so much, but you’re going to be okay here."
You nodded, grateful for the support. But your thoughts drifted back to Joel, to the conversation you had overheard between him and Tommy. You couldn’t help but wonder how he would react when he saw this—when he heard the heartbeat and realized what was truly at stake.
But for now, you allowed yourself to just be in the moment, surrounded by the quiet reassurance of Maria’s words and Paul’s steady presence.
"Thank you," you whispered, meeting Paul’s eyes again.
He smiled, the corners of his mouth tugging upward just slightly. "Anytime," he said softly, and for a moment, it felt like he wasn’t just talking about the ultrasound.
As you, Ellie and Maria gathered your things and prepared to leave the small room, you felt Paul’s eyes lingering on you, even as you reached for the door. His gaze was soft, but intense, as if he couldn’t tear himself away. It left a strange flutter in your chest, a mix of emotions you weren’t ready to unpack.
“Thanks, Paul” you said, honestly, smiling at him.
Maria, standing by your side, must have noticed too. When you touched the door handle, ready to step out, she placed a gentle hand on your arm. “Wait for me outside,” she said, her voice calm but firm.
You hesitated, glancing between her and Paul, but then nodded, stepping out into the cool air of the hallway. As the door clicked shut behind you, a strange tension filled the room you had just left.
Inside, Maria turned to Paul, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. His gaze had been a little too fixated on you, and Maria’s protective instincts kicked in immediately.
"Paul," she began, her voice quiet but filled with a clear warning. "Don’t ever think about it."
Paul blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Maria took a step closer, her expression hardening. "I saw the way you were looking at her. But you need to understand something—she’s not here alone. The baby’s father is here in Jackson."
Paul’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, though he quickly tried to mask it. "I wasn’t—" he started, but Maria cut him off.
"Tommy’s brother," she said, her voice low and steady. "That’s the father. And trust me, you don’t want to get involved in that kind of situation."
Paul looked taken aback, the realization sinking in. He glanced down, his expression shifting as the weight of her words hit him. "I didn’t mean any disrespect, Maria," he said quietly, his tone more subdued now. "I just—"
"I know you didn’t," she replied, softening just a bit. "But I’m telling you now, for your own sake. Stay professional. Keep it that way."
Paul nodded, the intensity in his gaze dimming, replaced by something more resigned. "Understood," he muttered, his voice low.
Maria gave him a long, measured look before turning to leave. As she opened the door, she glanced back one last time, as if to reinforce her message. Then, without another word, she stepped outside to join you.
You and Ellie were waiting just outside, leaning against the wall, lost in thought. When Maria emerged, she gave you a small, reassuring smile.
"Ready to head back?" she asked, her tone light, as if the conversation inside had never happened.
You nodded, pushing yourself off the wall.
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The makeshift theater was packed with people from the community, the flickering light from the old projector casting shadows on the walls. It felt surreal, sitting there with everyone, watching a movie like things were normal. For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to sink into that illusion—into the laughter, the shared smiles, the warmth of the crowd around you.
But then you saw Joel, after missing him for the whole day.
He was sitting a few rows ahead, his posture tense, eyes focused on the screen but not really watching. You’d been keeping an eye on him ever since you got there, sensing the turmoil still brewing beneath the surface. As the movie played on, Joel stood quietly and slipped out of the room, unnoticed by most. Except for you.
Something stirred in your chest, a familiar pull that you couldn’t ignore. You glanced around, checking if anyone else noticed, but everyone was still absorbed in the film. Quietly, you stood and followed him out, slipping through the door into the cold night air.
The streets of Jackson were quiet, the sound of the movie muffled behind you as you walked. You could see Joel ahead, his figure silhouetted against the dim streetlights. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his steps slow, like he wasn’t sure where he was going, just that he needed to get away.
“Joel,” you called softly, your voice breaking the silence.
He stopped but didn’t turn around immediately. You quickened your pace, coming up beside him. When you reached him, he finally looked at you, his expression a mix of exhaustion and something deeper—something you couldn’t quite place.
"You okay?" you asked gently, though you already knew the answer.
Joel let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping as if the weight he’d been carrying all night had become too much. "Just needed some air," he muttered, his voice rough, but not unkind.
You fell into step beside him, walking in silence for a while, letting the quiet between you settle. You knew Joel wasn’t one to open up easily, and you didn’t want to push him. But you couldn’t just leave him to his thoughts, not when you knew he was struggling.
"Talk to me, Joel," you said softly. "What’s going on?"
He was silent for a moment, his jaw tightening as he tried to find the right words. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know if I can do this."
Your heart tightened at his words. "Do what?"
"All of it," he said, his voice strained. "Being here... with you, the baby. It feels like I’m tryin’ to fit into somethin’ I don’t deserve. I don’t know how to be this person anymore."
You stopped walking, turning to face him, the moonlight casting shadows across his face. "Joel, you don’t have to have it all figured out. None of us do."
He shook his head, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I want to be there for you, for the baby, but I don’t know if I can protect you. I’m scared I’ll fail again."
The mention of his past failures cut deep, and you could see the ghosts of his memories haunting him. Sarah. The QZ. Every person he couldn’t save.
"You won’t fail," you said firmly, stepping closer, placing a hand on his arm. “I saw the baby today” you said with a tiny smile appearing.
His eyes flickered up to meet yours, a hint of surprise breaking through the heaviness that surrounded him. "What do you mean, you saw the baby?" he asked, the tension in his voice softening just a fraction.
You took a breath, feeling warmth spread through you at the memory. "Maria took me for an ultrasound. It was… incredible. I felt the heartbeat, Joel. It’s real. There’s a little life in there."
A mixture of emotions crossed his face, curiosity, wonder, and a flicker of fear. "And? What was it like?"
You smiled wider now, unable to contain the joy bubbling within you. "It was amazing. The little form on the screen, just... there. It made everything feel more possible, like maybe we really could do this."
For a moment, Joel’s expression softened, and you could see the flicker of hope behind his eyes. "That’s… good," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, almost as if he was afraid to believe it.
"It is," you reassured him, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between you. "And you’re going to be a part of that, Joel. You’re not just the protector; you’ll be a father. And I know it’s scary, but it’s also something to live for."
He looked down, his brow furrowing as he processed your words. "You really think so?"
"I know so," you said, reaching up to cup his face again, letting your thumb brush gently across his cheek. "You’re already so protective of us, and that matters more than you realize. You’ll figure it out as we go along."
As you stood there, the world around you faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in that intimate moment. Something in Joel shifted, the walls he had built around his heart starting to crumble. You could see the conflict within him, fear battling against a yearning to embrace this new reality.
With a gentle tug on his shirt, you pulled him closer, your heart racing in anticipation. "Trust me," you whispered, your eyes locking onto his.
And then, without overthinking it, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his. The kiss was tentative at first, a mingling of uncertainty and hope. But as he responded, deepening the kiss, you felt a wave of warmth wash over you, as if the two of you were forging a new bond amidst the chaos.
His hands found your waist, holding you close, and for those brief moments, it felt like everything else faded away, your fears, the weight of the past, the uncertain future. It was just you and him, sharing something genuine and profound.
When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you breathing heavily, the world outside momentarily forgotten. The flicker of fear in his eyes had shifted to something softer, more determined.
"You really mean it," he said, his voice rough but filled with newfound conviction.
"I do," you replied, smiling up at him. "We’re in this together, Joel. No matter what."
He nodded, a faint smile breaking through the weight he had been carrying.
As the warmth of the moment lingered, Joel’s hands moved gently to your belly, resting there as if he were trying to connect with the little life growing inside you. His expression softened, and a protective instinct shone in his eyes.
“Get some rest,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “You’ve been through a lot today. We both have.”
You nodded, appreciating the concern in his tone. “I will. But I want you to come back soon, okay?”
A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I will. Just need a minute to clear my head.”
With a lingering touch, he pulled his hands away, and you felt a strange mix of warmth and longing as he stepped back. “I’ll see you in a bit,” he promised, his gaze still fixed on you, as if he were memorizing every detail.
You turned, feeling lighter, ready to head back inside and allow yourself the rest you needed. As you walked away, you glanced over your shoulder one last time, catching his eye. The connection between you remained palpable, and you knew that this was just the beginning of something profound.
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As you stepped back into the house, the warmth hit you immediately, chasing away the cool night air. Ellie was sprawled on the couch, flipping through a book she'd found earlier, her legs crossed as she absentmindedly skimmed the pages.
She looked up as you entered, her face softening into a lopsided grin. "You okay?" she asked, her tone casual, but you could hear the concern behind it.
You nodded, sitting down beside her. "Yeah. Just needed to talk with Joel for a bit."
Ellie studied your face, her eyes sharp. "And? Everything good?"
You smiled gently, trying to reassure her. "It will be. We’re figuring things out, one step at a time." You hesitated for a moment before continuing, "You know, we could be a family here. You, me, Joel… and the baby."
Ellie blinked, her usual tough exterior cracking just a bit. She let out a breath, leaning back against the couch. "A family, huh?" she muttered, her voice almost too soft for her usual snark. "Never really had one of those."
"You do now," you said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It’s not perfect. None of this is. But we’re all in this together."
Ellie let the words sink in, her eyes drifting toward the window as if trying to imagine what a life here could be. "Guess I could stick around," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Teach the kid how to shoot and stuff."
You chuckled softly.
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Meanwhile, on the other side of the community, Joel sat at the bar with Tommy, the weight of his emotions too much to bear any longer. He stared down at the whiskey in his hand, his knuckles white from gripping the glass too hard.
"Tommy…" Joel’s voice was low, broken, as if the words were being pulled from some deep, hidden place. "I need you to do something for me."
Tommy frowned, concern flickering across his face. "What is it?"
Joel swallowed hard; his throat tight. His eyes were red, the strain of the day finally catching up with him. "I need you to take Ellie to the Fireflies."
Tommy blinked; his confusion clear. "What? Joel, -“
"She’s immune” Joel cut him off, his voice cracking as tears welled up in his eyes. "But I can’t do it I can’t take her.  I don’t have the heart to leave my woman behind.”
Tommy’s gaze softened, understanding dawning on him. "You mean…"
"She’s pregnant, Tommy. I can’t take her with us. I can’t risk her life or the baby’s. And I can’t just leave them behind, not after everything." Joel’s voice wavered, his hands shaking as he finally let the tears fall, his tough exterior crumbling. "I thought I could do it… thought I could keep everyone safe, but I’m just not strong enough.”
Tommy leaned forward, his expression torn between concern and disbelief. "Joel, you don’t have to do this alone. You’ve got people here. You’ve got me."
Joel shook his head, wiping at his eyes. "Ellie needs to get to the Fireflies, for the cure. It’s what she’s meant for. But I can’t go, not with the baby coming. I need you to do this for me, Tommy. Please."
Tommy was silent for a long time, his heart breaking for his brother. "Joel… are you sure?"
Joel’s shoulders slumped as he nodded, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. "I don’t want to lose her, but I can’t lose them either. I can’t make this choice."
Tommy sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. "Alright," he finally said, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ll take Ellie. But, Joel...”
Joel took a shaky breath, his hands trembling as he gripped the edge of the bar. “It’s not just Ellie, Tommy. It’s me too.” His voice cracked, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself be vulnerable. “I’ve been having these panic attacks. Can’t breathe, can’t think straight. I… I haven’t felt this way since… since Sarah.”
Tommy's eyes widened, a mixture of shock and concern flooding his expression. "Joel…"
“I try to hold it together, but I’m falling apart, man. And I don’t know how to stop it,” Joel confessed, his voice breaking. “I’ll be out there, trying to protect her, trying to protect all of us, and suddenly it hits me — like a damn freight train. My chest tightens, my heart races, and I feel like… like I’m losing control.”
Tommy was silent for a moment, letting the weight of Joel’s words sink in. He'd seen his brother take on the world, survive impossible situations, but this was different. This was something Joel couldn’t fight with his fists or a gun.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Joel whispered, running a hand through his hair. "I'm scared all the time, Tommy. Scared that I’ll mess it up. That I’ll lose Ellie. That I’ll lose..." He faltered, swallowing hard. “That I’ll lose them both.”
Tommy stepped closer; his voice gentle but firm. “You don’t have to carry this alone, Joel. You never did. It’s okay to feel this way, man. No one expects you to be invincible.”
Joel let out a bitter laugh, though there was no humor in it. “But that’s what I’ve always had to be, ain’t it? The strong one. The protector. I don’t know how to be anything else.”
“You’ve been protecting people your whole damn life,” Tommy said, his tone filled with empathy. “But now… now it’s time to let people protect you too.”
Joel’s eyes were red, his jaw tight as he fought the urge to break down. “I don’t know if I can do this without her. Without them.”
“You don’t have to,” Tommy said quietly. “But I’ll take Ellie to the Fireflies. I promise I’ll keep her safe. You take care of yourself, Joel. Take care of the family you’re building here. You’ve earned that.”
Joel nodded; his heart heavy but grateful for Tommy’s understanding. He still felt the crushing weight of his fears, but for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel completely alone. Tommy was there. Ellie was there. You were there. And soon, there would be a baby who needed him too.
But still, his tears silently fell as he tried to hold himself together. This was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, and it tore him apart inside. But he knew it was the only way to protect the people he loved. Even if it meant letting go.
+++++++++++++
You sat on the couch with Ellie, the warmth of the fire crackling in the fireplace nearby, casting a soft glow across the room. Ellie was watching the flames, her mind elsewhere, while you found yourself glancing down at your belly again, thinking about everything that was changing, everything that was coming.
“Ellie,” you began softly, breaking the comfortable silence between you. She turned her head slightly, her expression expectant. “I’ve been thinking… Would you wait until after the baby is born to go to the Fireflies? Just a little longer?”
Ellie’s brow furrowed slightly, as if the idea weighed heavily on her. She didn’t answer right away, and you could see the internal struggle flicker in her eyes.
“I know you want to help,” you continued, your voice gentle. “I know you want to be the cure, to make a difference. But… it’s dangerous out there. And I don’t want to lose you.”
Ellie shifted uncomfortably, pulling her knees up to her chest as she stared down at the floor. “It’s not about me, though,” she said, her voice low but steady. “I get it, you want me to stay, but the cure... it could give the baby a better future. It could give everyone a better future. And I can’t just sit here while I have the chance to do that.”
Her words struck you deep, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for wanting her to stay, to keep her close, to keep her safe. But Ellie had always been selfless, always thinking of others, always wanting to make things better.
You sighed, resting a hand on your belly as the weight of her words sank in. “I just want you to be safe, Ellie. You mean a lot to all of us. And I don’t want to see you hurt.”
Ellie smiled faintly, though her expression was filled with understanding. “I know. But… if I can do something to stop all of this, the infection, the danger, then the baby… they won’t have to grow up like this. They could have a real life, without the constant fear of what’s out there.”
The thought of that future, one where the baby didn’t have to face the same horrors that you and Ellie had, made your heart ache. She was right, and that was what made it so hard.
Ellie noticed the worry lines forming on your forehead and reached over, giving your arm a gentle nudge. “Hey,” she said, her voice softening, “don’t stress yourself out. You’ve got enough to think about. Go and rest. You need to take care of yourself, and the peanut.”
You offered her a tired smile, appreciating the concern in her tone. “You sound like Joel.”
Ellie smirked. “Guess he’s rubbing off on me.”
You laughed softly, but the weight of the conversation still hung in the air. “Just… promise me you’ll think about it, Ellie. Please.”
Ellie met your gaze, her eyes serious. “I’ll think about it,” she said, and though you knew her mind was made up, her words gave you a small sense of comfort.
With that, you slowly stood, feeling the fatigue settle into your bones. Ellie watched you with a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Go rest, Mom-to-be,” she teased. “I’ll be here.”
You chuckled softly, grateful for the lightness she brought to the moment. “Alright, alright. I’m going. Good night, Ellie.”
“Good night” she replied, smiling as you entered the bedroom.
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Joel stood outside for what felt like an eternity, staring into the darkness, weighed down by the decision he had made. He knew it was the right thing to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. The thought of sending Ellie away with Tommy gnawed at him, the fear of losing her or failing her again tightening around his chest like a vice.
Finally, with a heavy sigh, he walked back into the house, his footsteps slow and hesitant. The place was quiet, a stillness that only made the ache in his heart more pronounced. He stopped by the door to your bedroom, hearing the soft rhythm of your breathing. You were resting, just like you needed to be.
But there was another conversation he couldn’t avoid.
Joel walked down the hall to Ellie’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and he could see her sitting on the edge of her bed, lost in her own thoughts. She turned her head when she noticed him, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“What’s up?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual, but there was an edge to her voice that Joel couldn’t ignore.
Joel hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. He couldn’t meet her gaze right away. “Ellie, we need to talk,” he said, his voice low and thick with the weight of his words.
She sat up straighter, sensing that something was wrong. “What is it? What happened?”
Joel rubbed a hand over his face, trying to find the right words, but all that came out was, “Tommy’s taking you to the Fireflies.”
The room fell into a tense silence, Ellie’s eyes widening in shock before narrowing in anger. “What? No,” she said, her voice rising. “You’re supposed to take me. That was the plan!”
“I can’t,” Joel replied, his voice breaking just slightly as he tried to keep his composure. “I can’t leave them behind. Not with the baby coming.”
“Are you kidding me?” Ellie snapped, standing up now, her fists clenched at her sides. “You’re just gonna pass me off to Tommy like I’m some burden? What the hell, Joel?”
“It’s not like that,” Joel said, shaking his head, but the guilt was already eating at him. “I’m trying to protect you.”
Ellie scoffed, her frustration boiling over. “Protect me? you’re just okay with sending me away? Why can’t you take me?”
Joel took a deep breath, the panic rising inside him. “Ellie, I’ve been having these panic attacks,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “I can’t—I’m not strong enough anymore. I can’t do it. I can’t protect you the way I need to, not with all of this happening. I don’t want to fail you.”
Ellie’s anger wavered for a moment, her eyes searching his face. “Joel…,” she said, her voice softer now. “You’re not gonna fail me. You never have.”
“I already have,” Joel whispered, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Too many times. I couldn’t save Sarah. I couldn’t stop Tess from getting hurt. I won’t let you get hurt too, Ellie. And I can’t leave them—her, the baby—behind. I just can’t.”
Ellie’s face softened, but the frustration was still there. “Joel, I don’t want Tommy to take me. I want you. We’ve been through all of this together. It’s you and me. You don’t get to just hand me off when it gets hard.”
Joel’s eyes were wet now, the emotions too much to hold back. “I’m trying to keep you safe, Ellie. That’s all I want.”
Joel stood outside for what felt like an eternity, staring into the darkness, weighed down by the decision he had made. He knew it was the right thing to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. The thought of sending Ellie away with Tommy gnawed at him, the fear of losing her or failing her again tightening around his chest like a vice.
Finally, with a heavy sigh, he walked back into the house, his footsteps slow and hesitant. The place was quiet, a stillness that only made the ache in his heart more pronounced. He stopped by the door to your bedroom, hearing the soft rhythm of your breathing. You were resting, just like you needed to be.
But there was another conversation he couldn’t avoid.
Joel walked down the hall to Ellie’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and he could see her sitting on the edge of her bed, lost in her own thoughts. She turned her head when she noticed him, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“What’s up?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual, but there was an edge to her voice that Joel couldn’t ignore.
Joel hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. He couldn’t meet her gaze right away. “Ellie, we need to talk,” he said, his voice low and thick with the weight of his words.
She sat up straighter, sensing that something was wrong. “What is it? What happened?”
Joel rubbed a hand over his face, trying to find the right words, but all that came out was, “Tommy’s taking you to the Fireflies.”
The room fell into a tense silence, Ellie’s eyes widening in shock before narrowing in anger. “What? No,” she said, her voice rising. “You’re supposed to take me. That was the plan!”
“I can’t,” Joel replied, his voice breaking just slightly as he tried to keep his composure. “I can’t leave them behind. Not with the baby coming.”
“Are you kidding me?” Ellie snapped, standing up now, her fists clenched at her sides. “You’re just gonna pass me off to Tommy like I’m some burden? What the hell, Joel?”
“It’s not like that,” Joel said, shaking his head, but the guilt was already eating at him. “I’m trying to protect you.”
Ellie scoffed, her frustration boiling over. “Protect me? I thought you didn’t want me to go at all, and now you’re just okay with sending me away? Why can’t you take me?”
Joel took a deep breath, the panic rising inside him. “Ellie, I’ve been having these panic attacks,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “I can’t—I’m not strong enough anymore. I can’t do it. I can’t protect you the way I need to, not with all of this happening. I don’t want to fail you.”
Ellie’s anger wavered for a moment, her eyes searching his face. “Joel…,” she said, her voice softer now. “You’re not gonna fail me. You never have.”
“I already have,” Joel whispered, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Too many times. I couldn’t save Sarah. I couldn’t stop Tess from getting hurt. I won’t let you get hurt too, Ellie. And I can’t leave them—her, the baby—behind. I just can’t.”
Ellie’s face softened, but the frustration was still there. “Joel, I don’t want Tommy to take me. I want you. We’ve been through all of this together. It’s you and me. You don’t get to just hand me off when it gets hard.”
Joel’s eyes were wet now, the emotions too much to hold back. “I’m trying to keep you safe, Ellie. That’s all I want.”
“I know,” she said, her voice wavering. “But you’re all I’ve got. You can’t just let me go like that.”
They stood there in the quiet room, both of them battling their own fears and emotions. Joel wiped at his eyes, trying to collect himself.
“I’m not abandoning you,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t make this choice. I can’t risk losing all of you. Tommy… he’s strong. He’ll get you there.”
Ellie shook her head, frustration flashing across her face. “You’re not listening. I don’t want Tommy to take me—I want you.”
Joel looked at her, his heart twisting. He hated this, hated that he was letting her down. “Ellie... I’m not your father,” he said, his voice cracking with the weight of the admission. He had never said it out loud like this, and it hit him as hard as it hit her.
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Ellie looked like she’d been slapped. Her face hardened, jaw clenched. “Well,” she started, her voice sharp and bitter, “your girlfriend told me we could be a family.” She glared at him, daring him to contradict her.
Joel winced. The truth of it stung, the possibility of a family he didn’t feel worthy of. “I know,” he murmured, struggling to find the right thing to say. “But Ellie, that doesn’t mean I can risk everything—risk you—for a chance at something that might never come.”
Ellie shook her head, her eyes filling with tears she refused to let fall. “You don’t get it, do you?” she whispered. “I don’t want a family that leaves me behind when things get tough. I don’t want Tommy, or anyone else. I just want you.”
Joel’s heart shattered at her words. He saw the hurt, the fear of abandonment in her eyes, and it crushed him. He stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off.
“Ellie, please...” Joel started, but she cut him off, her voice trembling with emotion.
“No, Joel. You don’t get to decide what’s best for me without even asking me what I want. We’ve been through too much for that. And now, just when we could finally be something—be a family—you’re pushing me away.”
“I’m trying to keep you safe,” Joel repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“And what if I don’t want safe?” Ellie shot back, her voice shaking with frustration. “What if I want you?”
Joel swallowed hard, unable to find the words to answer her. He had spent so long keeping her at arm’s length, convincing himself that it was for her own good. But now, standing here, watching her fight to stay close to him, he realized how much he needed her too. How much she had become a part of his life, of him.
Joel’s jaw clenched, the weight of everything pressing down on him. He didn’t want to hurt Ellie, didn’t want to push her away, but he felt trapped. Torn between protecting her and staying with the new life that was growing inside you. He took a deep breath, his voice low and firm, but his heart breaking as he spoke.
“That’s final, Ellie,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’ll go with Tommy.”
The words seemed to echo in the room, heavy and irreversible. Ellie’s face crumpled in disbelief, anger flashing through her eyes, but before she could respond, Joel turned and walked out, the ache in his chest almost unbearable.
He moved through the quiet house, his footsteps heavy, his heart even heavier. His mind raced with guilt, fear, and uncertainty. He didn’t want to lose Ellie, but he also couldn’t leave you behind, not with the baby on the way. He just couldn’t.
As he reached the bedroom where you were sleeping, he paused in the doorway. The soft sound of your steady breathing filled the room, offering a strange kind of peace amidst the chaos swirling inside him. Joel leaned against the doorframe, his eyes fixed on your sleeping form, wondering how everything had become so complicated.
He stepped inside, moving quietly so as not to wake you. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he ran a hand through his hair, staring down at his hands as if the answers to his problems might appear there. The weight of his decision pressed down on him, and for the first time in a long while, Joel felt truly lost.
You stirred in your sleep, sensing his presence. Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light in the room. Seeing Joel sitting there, shoulders slumped, staring down at his hands, you felt a surge of concern wash over you.
“What’s wrong?” you asked softly, your voice groggy from sleep but laced with worry.
Joel flinched slightly, as if he hadn’t expected you to wake up. He shook his head, his eyes not meeting yours. “Nothin’,” he muttered, his voice quiet and strained. “Go back to sleep.”
But you knew better. You could see the tension in his body, the heaviness in his expression. You reached out, gently touching his arm, urging him to lie down beside you. “Joel… talk to me.”
He hesitated for a moment, the weight of the world still pressing down on him. But instead of saying anything, he let out a long breath and slid under the covers next to you. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if every action carried the burden he was trying to hide.
You shifted closer to him, resting your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, steady but faster than usual. His arm wrapped around you almost instinctively, holding you close, but you could feel the tension in his muscles, the internal battle he was fighting.
“You don’t have to carry it all on your own,” you whispered, your hand gently tracing patterns on his chest.
Joel’s arm tightened around you, but he didn’t respond right away. After a long silence, he finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “I’m tryin’ to keep everything together… for you, for the baby… for Ellie.”
You looked up at him, your heart aching at the sight of the pain etched into his face. “And who’s keeping you together, Joel?”
He didn’t answer. He just held you tighter, as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded in that moment. The silence stretched between you, heavy but comforting in its own way.
Joel exhaled slowly, the tension in his body softening just a little as he held you close. He could feel your warmth against him, the steady rhythm of your breath, and it made something inside him loosen—a little piece of that ever-present weight.
He ran a hand through your hair, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know,” he started, his rough tone softening, “I used to think I was too broken for this… for love, for family, for you.”
You lifted your head slightly, looking at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Joel…”
But he continued, his words flowing quietly into the night. “But you—you’ve been so good to me. You, with your stubbornness and your heart… you gave me somethin’ I thought I’d never have again. You make me want to be better. For you, for the baby.”
His hand traced slow, gentle circles on your back, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly, the heaviness in the air easing just a little. “You’re a sap, Joel,” you teased, though your heart was fluttering at his words.
Joel chuckled, the sound low and raspy, but it carried a warmth you hadn’t heard from him in a while. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” he said with a small smirk, his eyes softening as he looked at you.
You settled back against his chest, your cheek pressed to the steady rise and fall of his breath. His hand continued to stroke your back, grounding both of you in that moment. But even as the quiet warmth between you spread, you could feel there was something deeper weighing on him still.
After a few moments, Joel spoke again, this time more serious. “There’s somethin’ I gotta do. And you’re not gonna like it.”
You shifted slightly, lifting your head to look at him again, your brows furrowing with concern. “Joel, what do you mean?”
His eyes flickered with something—guilt, regret—but he swallowed it down, forcing a gentle smile for you. “You’re gonna hate me for a little while, darlin’. But I need to do what’s right. For you. For Ellie. For this family.”
You opened your mouth to protest, worry creeping into your chest, but Joel stopped you with a soft kiss on your forehead. “Just trust me,” he whispered. “I’ll make it right.”
You searched his eyes, seeing the weight of the decision he had made. Part of you wanted to push, to ask him what he meant, but the other part knew better. Joel had always carried the burden of protecting those he loved, even when it hurt him.
Eventually, the quiet comfort of his presence and the exhaustion of the day began to take over. You rested your head back on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath you.
“I trust you, Joel,” you whispered, though your mind still whirled with questions.
He held you close, his arm tightening around you, and for a moment, he felt like he could breathe again. But he knew, deep down, that the decision he had made would change things. For better or worse, he would protect the people he loved, even if it meant you’d be angry with him for a time.
As your breathing began to slow, sleep tugging at you, Joel leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I love you,” he whispered into the quiet, his voice raw with emotion. “No matter what happens. I love you.”
You didn’t respond, already drifting off to sleep on his chest, but the warmth of his words followed you into your dreams.
Joel he couldn’t stop feeling his heart breaking at the sight of you sleeping on his chest right now. He had made you believe that safety was a place wherever he was, he made you believe that you were going to have a place to sleep next to him to keep the demons away.
Joel, still wide awake, stared at the ceiling, the weight of his decision settling heavily over him. But for now, with you sleeping peacefully beside him, he could pretend that everything would be okay, just for a little while longer.
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You slowly woke to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, stretching and blinking against the brightness. As your mind cleared, you reached for Joel, but the spot next to you was empty. A sense of unease settled in your stomach.
Sitting up, you glanced around the room, noticing the stillness. That’s when your eyes caught sight of a folded piece of paper on the nightstand, the sight of it sending a rush of anxiety through you. You could see your name written in Joel's familiar handwriting, and your heart sank.
You reached for the letter, your fingers trembling slightly as you unfolded it. The words blurred for a moment, but you forced yourself to focus, the reality of the situation washing over you as you read:
Darlin’,
I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I have to do this. I’m leaving you here while I take Ellie to the Fireflies. I thought long and hard about it, and I believe it’s what’s best for all of us.
I can’t risk losing you or the baby. I don’t want to drag you into danger. This is something Ellie needs to do, and I can’t leave her behind. I hope you can understand.
You’re stronger than you know, and I trust you to take care of yourself. I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise. Just… please take care of yourself and the baby.
I love you.
—Joel
Your heart raced as you reread the letter, each line cutting deeper than the last. Confusion, anger, and heartbreak swirled within you, each emotion colliding as you tried to process his decision. He was leaving. Leaving you behind to take Ellie away, and you had no way to stop him.
You stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor as you rushed to the door, but there was only silence on the other side. You felt a surge of frustration and fear; how could he think this was for the best?
After a moment, you took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself. You could be angry later, but right now, you needed to find him. You grabbed your jacket and hurried out of the bedroom, determination pushing you forward.
“Joel!” you called out, your voice echoing through the empty house. There was no response, only the quiet that surrounded you. You raced down the hall, hoping to find him somewhere inside, but he was nowhere to be found.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you stepped outside, the cool air hitting your skin. You squinted against the light, scanning the area for any sign of him.
The sight of him made your heart drop. Tommy’s face said everything. He looked worn, the weight of the situation clear in his eyes, and that only fueled your rising panic. You rushed toward him, emotions spilling over as tears began to blur your vision.
“Tommy!” you cried, your voice breaking. “Have you seen Joel? He… he’s leaving me here!”
Tommy stepped forward, his arms opening instinctively as you reached him. You collapsed into his embrace, the warmth of his support contrasting sharply with the cold fear wrapping around you. As he held you close, your tears flowed freely, each sob echoing the pain and confusion swirling inside.
“It’s okay,” Tommy murmured, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “I’m here. You’re not alone.”
You buried your face in his shoulder, the reality of the situation crashing over you like a tidal wave. “He thinks he’s doing what’s best, but he’s not! I can’t believe he would leave me.”
Tommy held you tighter, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I know. I know it hurts. But Joel cares about you—about both of you—more than anything. He’s just scared.”
“But I need him here!” you exclaimed, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes, the pain reflected back at you. “I don’t want to be left behind. We’re supposed to be a family!”
“I’m your family,” Tommy whispered, his voice steady and sincere.
You felt a flicker of comfort in his words, but it didn’t erase the emptiness Joel’s absence left behind.
………
“Tommy,” Joel had said, his voice low and urgent as he leaned closer, eyes dark with concern. “I need you to promise me something.”
“Anything,” Tommy replied, sensing the gravity of the moment.
“Take care of my baby,” Joel had insisted, his expression fierce. “Promise me they’ll be okay.”
Tommy had nodded, ready to reassure him. “Of course, Joel. I’ll do everything I can to keep the baby safe.”
But then Joel’s gaze sharpened, a hint of desperation in his voice. “No, I mean my baby,” he clarified, referring not just to the life growing inside you but to you as well. “Promise me both will be okay.”
Tommy had felt the weight of that request, the unspoken fears underlying Joel’s words. “You have my word, brother. I’ll protect them both.”
……
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yeostinys · 3 days
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My Dear Darling
Chapter 1
Pairing: Frat OT8!ATEEZ x Female Reader
Genre: Eventual Smut 18+, Fluff, Angst, Polyamorous Relationship!
Notes: NonIdol!AU, CollegeAU. Alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking, Explicit language. Polyamorous Relationship, (if you are not into that just pls ignore).
Word Count: 3.4k
Synopsis: It’s your last year in university and everything seems normal until one night at a party you are approached by a fraternity that seems like they are up to no good.
Author’s note: This is pure imagination and in no way depicts any characters in real life. If you do not like this type of content please ignore :)
——————————————
Jia: “Are you coming over later?”
Y/N: “I’m not sure. I’m kind of partied out”
Jia: “Oh please Y/N . you flaked on the last 2 parties i mentioned!”
Y/N: “You make me sound like a bore Jia.”
Jia: “That’s not what i’m trying to say!! You have been locked up in your apartment and the library forever! are you punishing yourself?”
Y/N: “It’s our last year in University Jia! I want to preform well on exams!”
Jia: “Y/N, you are literally one of the top students in our university. You’ve been doing well! Now, as my best friend it’s your duty to come to MY party, that IM hosting. Pleaseeee for meeeee”
Y/N: “ughhhh fine i’ll be there”
Jia: “YAYY! I’LL SEE YOU LATER!”
-
Arriving at Jia’s , you are greeted with hugs from familiar faces around campus.
“Y/N~! You’re hereeeee!” Jia exclaims as she hands you a hard seltzer, she already seems a few shots away from being drunk. You laugh at your friend and take the drink in your hands.
“Alright everyone! Three gulps! Thank you all for coming!!” Jia screams as everyone in the house cheers. You take three gulps with ease and feel the burning alcohol run down your throat. The night begins with loud music playing through the house, people cheering and screaming as they play various drinking games, couples making out, you name it.
Within an hour of you here, Jia has ran off with her situationship, she’s currently shoved into a corner making out. You however moved outside to sit by the fire pit along with the rest of your closest girl friends. You’re laughing with everyone talking about various topics, while sipping your alcohol infused drinks. Trying to embrace the positive atmosphere around you.
“Hey Y/N” a voice lingers in your ears.
You look up and meet eyes with a familiar handsome face.
“Hey Wooyoung, what’s up?” you smile at him. Wooyoung is a very well known member of the fraternity ATZ with a reputation of being the biggest flirt ever.
“Nothing much. I however wanted to get your number” Wooyoung is direct. He’s now sitting next to you and slings his arm over your shoulders.
“And why is that?” you raise your eyebrow at him.
“Does there need to be a reason why? I just want to get to know you more” Wooyoung smirks as he brushes a hair strand out of your face. You roll your eyes unimpressed. You can hear giggles from the girls around you as they try to carry on their conversations, trying to not make it obvious that they’re eavesdropping.
“No thanks Woo. however, you can talk to one of your many girls on your line” you smile at him sarcastically.
“But what if I don’t want any of those girls?” Wooyoung pouts at you. You scoff and take a swig of the hard seltzer in your hand.
“Bye Woo” you say as you turn back to talk to your friends. Wooyoung smirks and drops his head down. He gets up swiftly and turns to you one last time
“Alright no worries. I’ll see you around pretty”. Wooyoung walks away and you make eye contact with your giggling friends around you.
“Y/N omg! he was totally into you!” Mina exclaims grabbing onto your shoulder.
“Oh please, Wooyoung is into everyone.” you say as you laugh with everyone.
A few moments later you feel another body plop down next to you.
“Hey there Y/N-ah~”
You turn to look person next to you and you release a sigh.
“Hi there Mingi” You smile politely at him, trying to hide your annoyance. Another.. boy from ATZ. It is a well known fact that Mingi is one of the hottest boys in school. You even agree to that statement. But why is he here? and Why was Wooyoung just here a few minutes before him?
“What can I do for you Mingi?” you ask in a sarcastic manner.
“Funny that you ask sweetheart. Wanna go over there for a smoke?” Mingi smirks, eying you up and down.
“I don’t smoke” you say firmly.
“Then i’ll stop smoking for you. How about a shot together?” He asks holding out a hand.
“I already have a drink right here thanks though Min” You giggle at his efforts.
“Why playing so hard to get Y/N-ah?” Mingi sighs as he rests his head on his fist propped up by his elbow.
“I’m not playing anything Mingi.”
“How about your number then?” Mingi tries you one last time. You look at Mingi in an amused but confused face. Why is he suddenly interested in you? Mingi has a pool of fan girls who are quite aggressive whenever he’s seen with a fellow female alone. Not wanting to get caught in his fire you reply to him,
“I don’t think so Min, but It was nice seeing you” you smile at him one last time before waving him off.
All Mingi can do is laugh and wink at you as he leaves you be with your friends.
“seriously what is going on with that frat?” Harin laughs. The girls around you continue to talk as some move in and out of the circle.
**30 minutes later**
“Miss Y/N~”
You turn your face to see a close classmate of yours.
“Mister Jongho~” you smile as he sits next to you.
“Y/N, I was wondering-“
“Cut the crap Jongho. What are you and ATZ planning” you cut him off.
Jongho laughs and throws his hands up as if he’s just been stopped by the cops.
“Woah woah, what do you mean Pretty?” Jongho chuckles at you.
“You and two other people from ATZ have been bothering me. You’re up to something” you raise an eyebrow at him.
You’re quite comfortable with Jongho. you’ve been seeing him everyday this past semester in a shared class. He’s a nice person, often gossips with you and shares all the recent news going around campus. A bonus, he’s ridiculously handsome.
“Alrrigghhhtt alright. Y/N i’ll tell you if… you give me your number”. Jongho smirks at you
“Jongho, we have one class together everyday. why are you barely asking for my number now?” You ask.
“What if i want your number to ask how you’re doing through out the weekend?” He asks with doe eyes.
“oh please Jongho . don’t make me hate you” you roll your eyes and sigh.
“fine fine~ . Just a warning this isn’t going to end Y/N” Jongho stands up and begins to walk away
“Wait! aren’t you going to tell me-“ Jongho shakes his head no and disappears.
You turn towards your friends in shock and get up from your seat.
“Alright.. well i’m going to go inside to get water” you say
“I’ll come with you Y/N!” “Me too!” Mina and Harin follow you as the rest of the girls wave you off.
Making your way to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of water, Mina and Harin find a spot on the couch and catch up with some friends.
“Hey Y/N”
You turn and see a tall familiar man smiling at you.
“Hi Yunho” tilting your head looking up at him.
Yunho sighs and speaks, “I’ll just cut the chase. I’m not one to participate in these types of things, but will you give me your number? ATZ made a bet to see who can get your number first.”
You raise an eyebrow at him in shock.
“I know Pretty. I wasn’t for it either. you know i wouldn’t do stuff like this, especially to you. but help a friend out yeah?” Yunho explains.
He looks genuine confessing this to you. To be honest, you believe him. You and Yunho worked in the university library together every summer and built a mutual friendship. You can’t lie that you find Yunho very attractive, to be honest you were shocked when you first found out he was in a fraternity, he didn’t seem the as the stereotypical frat boy type. You take a few moments to reply, deeply appreciating that he has told you the truth behind ATZ’s scheme. so in return…
You sighed and rolled your eyes,
“If i give you my number what happens?”
“I won’t be embarrassed when i walk back to my friends.” Yunho give you a cheeky smiles
“Seriously? So this is just an ego thing?” You cross your arms uninterested.
“Y/N please. does there really need to be a motive. You are hot! lots of guys would kill for your number let alone your attention. The guys are buzzed right now and it just kind of happened.” Yunho explains.
“Fine.” you hold out your hand waiting for Yunho’s phone.
“Oh you’re a doll Y/N. thank you” Yunho says as he scrambles to take out his phone. You type in your number and shoo him off.
Walking out of the kitchen and making your way back to the couch you hear ATZ cheering and shouting at Yunho in shock and slight jealousy. You advert your attention back to your friends. “What took you so long?” Mina asked.
“I was talking with Yunho in the kitchen” you say casually.
“Mina! Harin! come here!!” One of the girls from outside are hollering them over . Mina and Harin scurry over with no questions leaving you on the couch with others watching people compete in beer pong. You feel a buzz in your pocket and you take out your phone to check a notification
Unknown: Yuyu’s #. You’re a life saver. I owe you!
You scoff at the nickname and save Yunho’s number to your cell.
“Is this seat taken?”
You turn your head to see yet another member from ATZ. A familiar face to you, but you’ve never really spoken to him. Just small encounters here and there at other parties.
“No it’s not.” you say shortly.
“I’m Seonghwa.” The man smiles at you softly. You can’t lie. This man is gorgeous. You smile back at him,
“I’m Y/N” You replied.
“I know” Seonghwa says with a smirk. You tilt your head in confusion.
“You know?” you say sarcastically, trying to play along.
“Well not technically. But I would like to get to know you though. How about your number?” Seonghwa asked tilting his head the same direction as yours. You scoff and laugh at his smooth come back.
“Why are you suddenly interested in my number Seonghwa?” you ask leaning into the couch.
“Well hot people should stay in touch together. Wouldn’t you agree Y/N?” Seonghwa says smirking.
“Not quite.” you roll your eyes and laugh.
“It was nice meeting you though, Seonghwa, I have to go check up on a friend now”. You get up from the couch and begin to search for Jia. You should actually check up on her, she’s been unseen for a while now.
Walking upstairs you move towards her room. Before twisting the door knob open, you hear moans. You stop your tracks and back up slowly.
(Welp, she seems fine) you say to yourself.
Walking back downstairs, you are stopped midway by a muscular figure. You look up and meet eyes with an angelic face.
“Oh Hey Y/N” the man smiles at you.
“Hi Yeosang” you smile back, mentally punching yourself for basically running into all of the ATZ members (more like they are running to you).
“What are you doing up here pretty?” Yeosang asks eying you up and down.
“Just checking up on Jia” you reply
“I saw her run off with Wonho a few hours ago. they looked like they were going to jump each other’s skins?” Yeosang chuckles.
“Yeah.. i’m sure they did” You confirm laughing with him.
“Y/N-ah, We should hang out sometime. We haven’t talked since last semester.” Yeosang is looking at you with a mesmerizing gaze that’s quite intoxicating.
“So suddenly?” you tease.
“Well why not, we had a great time studying for months in the library together don’t you agree?” Yeosang smirks.
“Can I have your number Please Y/N?” Yeosang pouts. You blush at his pretty face “Only because you’re pretty and you don’t annoy me like the others. i know what you and ATZ are up to” you say as you grab his phone from his hand.
“Who snitched!” Yeosang groans.
“Yuyu” You both laugh at the nickname as you dial your number in his phone and let it ring. Your phone begins to buzz and Yeosang’s number pops up on your phone. Yeosang smiles and ruffles your hair.
“You’re such an Angel Y/N” Yeosang doesn’t break his gaze off of you as you walk away from him.
You make your way back to Mina and Harin who are outside taking shots.
“Y/N!!! Let’s take a shot!” Mina catches your eyes and drag you towards the outside bar. “Mina! i can’t drink anymoreee~” you laughing at her drunk state. Mina whines and runs off to Harin who is trying to escape from taking another shot “Yah! Harin, come back!!” You laugh as you take a seat at the bar.
“Hey there”
You hear a voice near you. You turn and look at the person next to you. You mentally curse.
“Hi” you reply trying to be uninterested. Another fellow member from ATZ has approached you once again. However you’re shocked to see it’s the Frat president “My name’s Hongjoong. yours?” the man holds out his hand in a greeting. You smirk and take his hand.
“Hi Hongjoong. I’m Y/N”
“What a pretty name. wanna head back to my place? it’s getting crowded here don’t you think?” Hongjoong leans in closer to your face and smiles at you. Fuck, you say to yourself. His smiling is intoxicating and his facial features are so perfect. You try to snap yourself back into reality.
“I’m okay. I’d rather go back to my own home” You say as you begin to walk away.
Hongjoong follows next to you.
“oh to your place? I don’t mind that either. I was just trying to be polite” Hongjoong chuckles and stops in front of you to keep you from running off.
“You know that’s not what i meant Hongjoong” you say rolling your eyes.
“Then explain to me what you meant Y/N” Hongjoong teases.
“I’m not interested Hongjoong” you laugh. “But Here, i’ll save you the trouble” You take out your phone and hand it to Hongjoong. He cocks an eyebrow at you and smirks. He grabs your phone and inputs his number. He names his contact “Captain Hongjoong”. Hongjoong rings his number and shows you his phone screen as your number pops up. You scoff at him and retrieve your phone.
“I’ll see you around captain” you wave him off as you walk towards the house. Your social battery began to die with the consistent interactions, even though you can’t deny it was entertaining. However, you want to go home. You send a quick message to Jia that you’re heading out and begin to make your way towards the house exit. You take out your phone to call an uber as you sit on the front porch. You are slightly sobering up as you wait.
“Y/N. Leaving so soon?”
you turn your head and see a familiar face. Choi San. A person you quite despise.
“Yeah I called an uber” You say as you avoid eye contact with him.
You can’t quite remember why you and San hate each other. You two used to be friends, childhood friends actually. However once High school started you both drifted away into your own cliques and grew apart with a habit of hatred mixed with a teasing tension (mainly from San).
San sits next to you and looks at the night sky.
“How have you been Y/N?” San asks calmly
“Why do you care San.” you say a bit too snappy.
San looks unphased .
“What’s up with the attitude Y/N-ie” San teases. You turn to San and look at him with a stern face.
“San I know the bullshit you and ATZ are pulling.” You say.
“If you know, then why did you give into Yunho, Yeosang, and Hongjoong?” San raises an eyebrow at you.
“Because I know them and-“
“You’ve never spoken to Hongjoong.”
“You know what I don’t owe you an explanation to who I give my number to or who I show interest in. We haven’t spoke since high school, so don’t start acting interested in my life now” You bite back.
“Ouch You dont have to be like that Y/N-ie” . Having enough, you get up quickly and begin to walk away.
“My uber is here.”
Finally fleaing the party you make your way up to your apartment studio. You strip off your clothes and fall onto your bed. Your phone buzzes a few times. You glance at your phone and see a notification from Hongjoong.
Captain Hongjoong: “Hey pretty, let’s meet up tomorrow”
You don’t care to open the chat at the moment. So you toss your phone down and try to fall into a deep sleep, exhausted from the alcohol and various conversations from today.
~~
Yuyu: Hi Y/N-ie, wyd today? Let’s hang out!
You groan in annoyance as you stare at your notification bars. You haven’t opened any messages from last night or this morning. Mainly spams from Mina and Jia. Plus… the two messages from Hongjoong and now Yunho. You hesitate before responding to Yunho.
Y/N: What are you guys up to? I thought this was a one time ego boost thing. pls leave me alone.
Yuyu: Y/N if you want the full truth, you have to hang out with me today ;)
Y/N: what do you mean “the full truth”
Yuyu: I can explain if you agree to hang out with meeeeee
Y/N: Well your “Captain” messaged me about hanging out as well. Do I ditch him for you or are you going to get buried alive?
Yuyu: Lol, don’t worry about him. So yes or no?
Y/N: Fine. send the address.
Yuyu: Perfect, i’ll see you later Y/N!
You start to regret your life decisions as you walk out your apartment and head towards the address Yunho sent you. Looking at the address on Maps you realize , you are meeting Yunho at the ATZ Frat house. You sign in frustration and contemplate if you should cancel on him last minute with some shitty excuse. However, you’re curious as to why ATZ was so infatuated on you last night.
You arrive to the frat house and ring the door bell. You can hear running footsteps and mumbled voices behind the door as you wait. Finally, the door knob clicks, swings open, and you are met with happy faced Yunho.
“Y/N! YOURE HERE!” Yunho hugs and lifts you off the ground. You freeze in shock and try to hold in your laughter. Yunho puts you down and pulls you inside the frat house. “Welcome to the ATZ House!”
It’s cleaner than you expected. Especially knowing this is a house full of 8 men. Yunho guides you to the living room, where you are met with 6 of the ATZ members sitting on an L shaped couch. San is missing? You freeze your tracks and look towards Yunho.
“Jeong Yunho, you said you’d tell me the full truth” you cross your arms and stare at him intensely.
“Yes yes, WE, will tell you. now Miss Y/N please sit down” Yunho pulls out a chair for you and encourages you to sit down, as he makes his way to sit with the rest of the 6 men.
Hongjoong speaks up first “Y/N, i know you must be confused why we all took interest in you suddenly last night. Now, we’d like to explain ourselves.”
You cock your eyebrow in confusion as you look at all the members present,
“Where’s San? You said all of you guys took interest.” You asked.
“It took some convincing for Sannie, but he unfortunately had to sit out on today’s meeting because he has other…. Fraternity duties to fulfill. Don’t worry though honey he truly does have interest in you” Hongjoong explains.
You’re not convinced that San agreed to whatever this is. Regardless, you sit in silence waiting for further explanation.
“I’ll just get straight to the point. Y/N, we’d like you to be ours.” Hongjoong says blatantly.
You laugh. Out loud.
None of the boys are laughing. They all seem so serious.
“Wait you’re serious?” you ask arms still crossed.
“Yes we are serious.” Yunho chimes in.
“So… be yours as in become the ATZ Sweetheart?” You question.
“Well, yes but not really. Y/N we mean, we want you to be our girlfriend. All 8 of us.“
end of chapter 1….
~
Ahhhh my first series! I hope you all enjoy! please leave comments and suggestions for any improvements, as i am still a new writer 🥹. Leave comments or message me to be part of my TagList for this series! I am hoping to have chapter 2 posted soon!
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sashaisready · 2 days
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Starting Over: Chapter 3 - Bolt
Mob!Bucky x Female Reader
Series Masterlist
When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending.
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Back again! I have split the final chapter into two parts as it makes more sense that way, you’ll see why when you read the last one – which hopefully I should be able to post later this week, or early next – I’m just working on getting it right. Warnings for angst, angst and angst in this part – sorry in advance. I felt a bit weepy writing this. I’ve been blown away by the support this story has received, especially as it was written on a bit of a whim, so thank-you for all your reblogs and comments – it means a lot!! Also shout-out to the recent Variety SebStan photoshoot - very inspirational...
💔
You were sleeping like the dead, it was a miracle that anything could’ve woken you – but the soft click of the hotel door opening must’ve cut through the void somehow, because you shot up in bed awake, disorientated and suddenly on alert. Your breathing was heavy as you adjusted to your surroundings. What…where were…?
Bucky gently closed the door behind him and rushed over to your bedside.
“Hey, hey…it’s just me, you’re okay doll. I’m sorry I startled you. I was trying to slip in quietly…” he cooed, “I thought knocking might be too jarring…stupidly…”
You blinked at him, you were just able to make out his face in the dark as recognition sunk in. His features were subtly illuminated by the parking lot lights, the room’s curtains doing little to keep that glare out. He looked tired and drained; his hair unkempt. There was a weariness in his face that you hadn’t seen before. You groggily flicked on the bedside lamp as your brain caught up with the rest of you.
For a blissful moment you’d forgotten it all, from the haze of sleep, you’d forgotten why you were here. Bucky! Bucky is here! Your safe place. You began to smile and instinctively moved towards him. He smiled too, a relieved smile, holding out a hand to you so you reached for it with your own –
Wait.
Oh.
You saw the hope in his eyes dwindle when you jerked away from him, a scowl hardening your expression as you whipped your hand back as quickly as if it had been burnt. You pulled the sheets high and tight, covering your body as if you didn’t like that any of you was visible to him.
As he tried to lean over to get closer to you, you greeted him with a blunt, hard slap across the face.
He recoiled, his hand moving to his stinging cheek as he stood up to his full height and stepped back, “fine. I deserved that…”
“What are you doing here?” you sneered, “How did you even get in?”
He tilted his head towards the door and held up a key card, “They let me in. They gave me a key”.
“Well, they shouldn’t have! They shouldn’t just give away door keys to random people…”
“They don’t, just me,” he smirked.
You rolled your eyes and turned away, “You think this is funny?”
“Doll…” he reached out to you again, but you smacked his hand away.
“No,” you growled.
“I found out the truth…I know it wasn’t you. I’m so sor-” he sounded frantic, stuttering and jumbled, worlds away from the cool and collected man you knew so well. But you were unmoved, his betrayal still stinging and raw.
“I don’t care,” you interrupted, your tone flat and cold, “it’s too late”.
“I should’ve listened to you. I’m so sorry, baby. I flew off the handle without talking to you. I should’ve trusted you…” he pleaded.
“Yes, you should’ve,” you snapped bitterly, “but you didn’t. You wouldn’t let me talk, you just shouted…then you threw me out with nothing! Like I was trash! I walked for nearly two miles alone in the dark, in the middle of the night, Bucky. Anything could’ve happened to me…” your voice wobbled slightly at the end of your sentence; you took a deep breath – refusing to let anymore tears fall for him.
He dipped his head, his gaze dropping, unable to look at you. “I know, you’re right…I keep thinking about it…I keep…”
“Save it!” you shouted, a little more emotional than you intended. “All I wanted was for you to listen to me. I don’t know anything about a recording, or my phone pinging, or whatever you were ranting about. I just can’t believe you wouldn’t believe me, after everything we’ve been through…”
He sighed heavily, then withdrew his phone from his pocket. He began to scroll through.
You scoffed, “what are you-”
And then your voice, clear as day, rang out from his phone. Bucky held it up towards you, his face pained. You listened, stunned, as you heard yourself on the recording. It was so real you almost considered that it was you, and you’d somehow forgotten that you’d actually said it.
“Just give me a bit longer and I’ll have that one-armed pussy spill everything…”
After it had finished, you furrowed your brows in confusion, your mouth hanging open.
“But that wasn’t…” you whispered.
“I know. I know that now,” he sighed, putting the phone back in his pocket. “Rumlow set it up. He put it together with cutting edge AI, some advanced tech Stark helped develop. He also planted fake footage of you on the CCTV. Took your phone to an incriminating location. But Sam caught him tonight. He’s been working with the feds to bring me down, to make room for a HYDRA revival. He knew I’d be weaker and easier to takedown if you and I fell apart, so breaking us up was a two-birds-one-stone deal”.
You blinked, bewildered, a chill running through you as you thought about the lengths someone would go to in order to break you and Bucky up. You knew a little about HYDRA, the rival syndicate that Bucky used to work for before he struck out on his own. They’d been defunct for years, or so Bucky had told you. The implication of someone being able to make your voice say anything they wanted also haunted you. Rumlow could’ve even framed you for a crime with such technology. It was…scary.
You could see why Bucky freaked out, presented with all of this incriminating evidence, but…
“Rumlow didn’t break us up, Bucky”, you said quietly as your words sharpened. “You did. You could’ve come to me first. You could’ve showed me this and we could’ve set everything straight. Instead…you went nuclear…”
He dropped his gaze again to the threadbare hotel carpet, unable to meet your eye. It was almost funny, he looked small for the first time since you’d met him. Despite his towering height and hulking frame, he almost seemed like a little boy in that moment.
“…I just can’t believe you thought I’d do something like that to you. That I’d betray you like that. That I could look you in the eye every day and lie to you and…”
He suddenly looked up, quickly snatching your hand, “I’m so sorry, doll, this is the biggest mistake I’ve ever made…I’d do anything to take it back…”
“Well you can’t!” you sniped back at him as you tore your hand away from his, tears in your eyes. “You must think so low of me that you think I’d be capable of this. And all the stuff you said about me leeching off you for your money! I’ve never been comfortable spending your cash and you know that! I can’t believe you’d throw it all back in my face…”
“Baby, I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean of it. I was hurt…” he said, the desperation building in his voice as his eyes widened, “I was just trying to hurt you the way I thought you’d hurt me. I didn’t really think it. I never have”.
“It must’ve come from somewhere!” you spat venomously, “you didn’t pull it out of thin air…”
“I promise. I was just throwing words out and didn’t care what they were as long as they hit. I just was so mad,” he sat down on the bed and began running his hands through his hair as he closed his eyes, he always did that when he was stressed.
He sighed heavily, then turned to you, “Look”, he began – his voice soft now. “I guess part of me always thought this was too good to be true…everything happened so quickly when we met. I’d always been content with one-night stands and casual hook-ups. Then I met you, and…” he trailed off as he chewed his lip, carefully choosing what to say.
You watched him, your earlier anguish now hardened into pure rage, you wanted to kick him out – send him out into the street the way he had with you. But you also wanted to hear this. You wanted to understand what possible reasoning there could be for causing of this pain. What weak excuse he could use to try and justify his cruelty. He looked at you again. His eyes were kind, warm. But you couldn’t help but remember the coldness in them from earlier. You didn’t think you’d ever forget it.
“I guess…everything changed. I fell for you so hard. You took over my life. Invaded my thoughts, my senses. I just wanted to be with you all the time. And to my surprise…you felt the same. This sweet, wonderful woman wanted to be with me, too. I was sure you’d turn away when you found about my job…my past…my scars, my arm... Because why wouldn’t you? You were kind and decent. You saw the best in people. How the hell could you love someone like me? A killer. A monster…”
“Bucky, I…” you croaked.
“Please, just let me finish…” he pleaded, “but somehow, you did love me. And I know you moved in with me quickly, but it felt right. You had a rough start in life, and all I ever wanted to do was take care of you and fix it so you didn’t have to worry about money or paying bills or any of that ever again. I wanted you to sleep soundly, knowing I would protect you and do right by you and you wouldn’t have to sling burgers and fries to get by anymore. And part of me knew it was selfish…because you deserved better than me. You deserved the white picket fence, a dull but decent man with a boring job who comes home and tells you about whatever shit Janet in Accounting got up to that day. But no, you had me – who stole you from that peaceful future to make myself happy. I worked late and committed violent acts. I had to give you bodyguards just in case. I uprooted your entire life. I did my best to give you the love you deserve, but I couldn’t even get that right. When I heard that tape…it was like the universe telling me what I already knew - I wasn’t worthy, and the debt I owed was getting collected. I guess part of me always expected I’d inevitably screw it up, because I never deserved you in the first place. And I’m just sorry that I proved myself right”.
You sniffed back your tears, bowled over by his words. He’d never said anything like this to you before, you had no idea he held those insecurities. The silence hung heavily between you, until you finally spoke, your voice shaky.
“But I was happy slinging burgers. And I never wanted the boring guy. I never wanted the white picket fence. I wanted you, Buck. Only you. I knew who you truly were, and it didn’t matter. It never mattered. You did deserve me. You did deserve love and everything we had…until…well…this”.
He nodded sadly, taking your hand in his.
“I know that now, doll, I do. I ended up sabotaging the best thing that ever happened to me because of my own fears. And that’s on me. But look…I need to ask, do you think you could ever forgive me? I’ll do whatever it takes, I’ll go at whatever pace you want…We can just be friends and see how it goes. I’ll go to therapy to sort out my shit. Anything. I’ll never doubt you again. All I ask is that you give me one final chance to fix this. Please, doll…I’m begging you…”
You looked into his big blue eyes, glossy with his unshed tears. Your heart ached and twisted at the sight. You’d never seen him looking so vulnerable before, so lost. You loved him so very much. You would’ve taken a bullet for him if he’d asked. He was correct that the two of you had moved fast in your whirlwind romance, but it always felt like a natural progression. It had always felt right.
But something had shifted. Something monumental. And you didn’t know if it could ever be like it was. It was wrong now.
“I’m sorry Bucky, I can’t….I…” you whispered, squeezing his hand as your tears began to fall. “I want to…I just…I don’t know if I can…”
He inhaled deeply and your heart shattered as you saw the flash of anguish in his eyes. But then he took a moment, a sad but accepting smile creeping over his face. He leaned over and wiped away your tears with his thumb.
“It’s alright, doll” he told you softly. “This was my fault. I’m not gonna force it or push you to forgive if you’re not comfortable doing so, okay? Not because I don’t care or don’t want to fight for you. But because I love you, and loving someone means sometimes you have to let them go”.
You nodded as you looked up into his eyes, but the tears wouldn’t stop.
“Hey, c’mon…” he soothed.
He quickly vanished into the en-suite bathroom, returning with a small wad of toilet paper to dab at your tear-soaked cheeks. He extended a finger and gently moved it under your chin, propping your face up to look at his. The tenderness and care he showed you was what you were used to with Bucky. This was the version of him you’d always known. It almost made you forget about everything. Almost.
You both shared a small smile. A melancholic smile, a smile that you both understood meant too much had happened here tonight. Too much had changed. You can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube. Nothing was spoken, but everything was said.
It was hard to know how much time had passed, but eventually he got up and moved to the door. You didn’t stop him, and he didn’t ask you to. He ran a finger over your trusty red backpack as he passed the desk. He chuckled and picked it up, “I should’ve known this old thing was involved. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how you left with no clothes or money…but you’ve always been the most resourceful person I know.”
You smiled back at him weakly.
“It’s funny…” he mused as he caressed the straps, “you had this emergency kit already to go. Just in case…”
You shook your head, “no…it wasn’t meant to be a kit, it was just left from where I moved in with you. I didn’t-I just dumped it when I…”
“Yes…left fully packed and untouched. With clothes and cash. And debit cards, presumably. Stashed in a closet by the front door. That doesn’t strike you as a choice? A plan? Even if you weren’t fully aware of it?” he asked.
You didn’t respond as the silence laid thick between you. Incisive Bucky, as always. He could read you better than anyone on the planet. You knew he was right, he knew it too. You swallowed, looking down at the frayed thread on the bedsheet.
“You are always planning, doll. Because you always had to, with the life you’ve had. You always had to keep moving and stay one step ahead. We both know that”.
Again, he was met with your silence as you pulled at the thread. But there was no denial. You couldn’t deny the truth.
“Guess we both had our own ejector seats for this plane,” he mused as he moved the bag back to how he found it. “Looks like we had even more in common than we knew”.
He was right, again. It seemed that both of you had your anxieties and insecurities about this relationship. Both of you were maybe a little too cynical and world weary to believe in happy ever afters. His had manifested in anger, in rage…yours in being ready to flee at any time. Both of you had been on the starting line waiting for that pistol to fire.
But it had only finally imploded because of him.
He continued his slow march to the door, clearing his throat as he looked back at you.
“I meant what I said, every word. I’d do anything to get you back. I’d go at any pace, I’d take whatever you offered – in any form, as long as I’m still in your life in some way. I’d spend the rest of my days apologising if I had to. But honestly, I’d also be happy just to be your friend. Okay? So, you can call me, text me, anytime. Hell, just send me an emoji. Even if you just to talk. Even just to yell at me. I’ll always pick up, I promise”.
He pulled a business card from his wallet and placed it on the desk, “here. Put my number in your new phone when you get one”.
You stayed mute, but your eyes followed his hand as he gently put the card down.
“Will you be okay? For money, I mean?” he asked as his hand rested on the doorhandle, “because I can…”
“I’ll be fine Buck, I always am”.
“Yeah doll, I know”, he said softly.
Neither of you said goodbye. Maybe it was too hard to actually say the word out loud. Speak it into existence and accept its reality. So, he just nodded at you, and you smiled back, and you tried not to think about the tears glistening in his eyes or that painful tugging in your chest.
A few seconds later he was gone, and then it was as if he’d never been there at all.
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rosemariiaa · 3 days
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~Lasts Firsts~
pairing: Paige x Azzi
a/n: yes i did lose my mind writing this but i had to! this is also my apology for the last fic.. 🤗 this is pretty long so take your time babe, also some tags @thaatdigitaldiary @patscorner @bueckerscore @juspeaks
themes: fluff, teasing
Enjoy!!!
It was barely 8:00 AM when Paige rolled over, her arm draping across the empty space next to her. She blinked into the early morning light, trying to shake off the sleep. She could already hear Azzi in the bathroom, humming softly, the sound so familiar it brought a small smile to her lips.
Last media day together.
The thought lingered like a weight on her chest, bittersweet and heavy. She dragged herself out of bed, feeling that familiar ache in her muscles from practice the day before, and made her way to the bathroom.
Azzi was standing in front of the mirror, twisting one of her curls between her fingers. Paige leaned against the doorframe, taking in the sight of her girlfriend’s morning routine—how peaceful she looked, even though they both knew today was going to be pretty emotional.
“Ready for the chaos?” Paige mumbled, voice still hoarse from sleep.
Azzi turned her head, giving Paige that small smile she always had when she knew Paige was nervous about something. “You asking me or yourself?”
Paige snorted, stepping closer until she was leaning against the counter beside Azzi. “Both, I guess.”
They didn’t say much after that, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Paige stared at her reflection for a moment, the weight of everything finally sinking in. Last media day, last season. After this? The WNBA.
“You think we’ll survive?” Paige asked quietly, her tone light but not really joking. Azzi met her eyes in the mirror, and for a second, Paige saw all the emotions they hadn’t really said out loud. There was excitement, sure, but underneath it was that uncertainty, the looming unknown of what came next.
“Paige,” Azzi said, her voice softer than usual. “You’re gonna be fine. We’re gonna be fine. You’ve been ready for this.”
Paige didn’t respond at first, just dropped her gaze to the sink. She’d been thinking about this a lot more than she’d let on. The WNBA wasn’t just another level—it was the next chapter of her life. And as much as she knew she wanted it, there was a part of her that was terrified.
“What if I’m not, though?” Paige’s voice came out quieter than she meant. “What if I mess this up? I mean… WNBA? That’s a whole new ballgame.”
Azzi turned around fully now, leaning her hip against the counter. She reached out, gently grabbing Paige’s wrist, thumb brushing over her skin in that way that always calmed her down.
“You’ve been playing against pros for years, P. You’re gonna go in there and do exactly what you do best. And… don’t forget you’ll be up against Diana, you’re probably gonna block her shots and then she’ll talk all kinds of shit you know how she gets,” Azzi teased, trying to pull Paige out of her thoughts.
Paige couldn’t help but chuckle, the tension in her chest easing just a little. “I can’t wait for Diana to “hate” me.” Azzi smirked. “Just don’t embarrass her too much.”
“Oh, I will. But not before embarrassing your Aces,” Paige shot back, her grin widening as Azzi’s eyes narrowed in mock warning.
“Excuse me?” Azzi gasped dramatically. “You better not mess with my team. If you even think about beating them, I’ll fly out there and beat you up.”
Paige laughed, leaning into Azzi, her forehead resting against hers. “You’re cute when you threaten me.”
“Not a threat, babe,” Azzi replied, her smile softening as she tilted her head just slightly, brushing her nose against Paige’s. “I’m dead serious. Leave the Aces alone.”
Paige wrapped her arms loosely around Azzi’s waist, finally letting herself breathe. For a second, she could forget about the future. It was just the two of them again, standing in their shared apartment, holding on to each other before the world outside came rushing in.
———-
By the time they arrived in the gym, the chaos was already in full swing, with half the girls making tiktok’s and going crazy per usual. The cameras, the bright lights, the reporters—it was all routine by now, but this time, everything felt heightened. It was their last one. The final first.
Paige watched as Azzi stepped in front of the camera, her expression automatically settling into her “game face,” the serious one she always had before interviews. Paige stood to the side, arms crossed, watching with amusement.
“You look like you’re about to kill somebody,” she muttered under her breath as she moved to stand beside Azzi for their photos. Azzi shot her a look. “I’m just focused.”
“Focused on terrifying everyone,” Paige teased, nudging her with her shoulder.
Azzi tried not to smile, but it broke through anyway, and Paige could feel the tension between them melt a little as they fell into the easy rhythm of their chemistry. They took their usual photos, Paige throwing her arm around Azzi’s shoulders, and their traditional piggyback pose, the same way they’ve done a thousand times before. But this time, the air between them felt different—heavier, full of all the memories they shared.
After the cameras stopped flashing, they hung back for a bit, watching the rest of the team get their moments in front of the lens.
“This feels… weird, right?” Paige said, her voice a little quieter now.
Azzi just nodded. “Yeah. But… it’s also kinda nice, knowing we did this together.”
Paige looked at her, her chest tightening with that familiar feeling of bittersweetness. “You’re gonna make me cry.” Azzi gave her a teasing smirk. “That’s my plan.”
———-
The media day madness finally wrapped up, and before Azzi could even think about unwinding, Paige had dragged her back home with a mischievous glint in her eye.
“What are you planning, Bueckers?” Azzi asked, standing in the doorway of their apartment, her arms crossed. “You’ll see. Just get dressed,” Paige said with a grin, shooing her toward the bedroom.
Azzi rolled her eyes but went along with it, emerging a few minutes later in the white tube top with Paige’s pink cover-up and those low-waisted jeans that Paige always went quiet about. She gave a little twirl, watching Paige’s eyes darken slightly.
“Stole my clothes again, huh?” Paige asked, leaning against the wall, trying to look unfazed.
Azzi smirked. “You love it.”
Paige just shook her head. “Get in the car, weirdo.”
They spent the car ride to the restaurant in comfortable silence, the only sound being Paige’s playlist—songs she’d carefully picked over the years, ones that always made her think of Azzi. At some point, Mitski came on, and Azzi hummed softly to the tune, stealing glances at Paige, who was drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.
“So, P,” Azzi started casually, “how nervous are you to play against Diana?”
Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m not nervous are ut playing against Diana. I’m nervous about her kicking my ass after I block her.” Azzi laughed, the sound light and warm. “She probably will. I’ll be sitting courtside, watching her destroy you.”
“Thanks for the support babe,” Paige muttered, but she was smiling. Azzi always knew how to pull her out of her head when she got too wrapped up in her own thoughts.
“And just remember,” Azzi said, her tone a little more serious but still playful, “if you mess with the Aces, I will find you madison.”
Paige threw her a sideways glance. “Oh, I know. You won’t have to find me—I’ll be waiting for you.”
Azzi grinned. “You better be.”
———-
When they got to the restaurant, Paige made sure they sat in a booth—one where she could sit across from Azzi and just look at her. It wasn’t the most subtle thing in the world, but Paige didn’t care. Azzi caught on, of course, giving her a raised eyebrow.
“What? I just like looking at you,” Paige said with a shrug, grinning like she hadn’t just been caught.
Azzi rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “You’re ridiculous.”
They were mid-conversation when the waiter came over, a girl with a bright smile who seemed way too interested in Azzi. Paige noticed immediately, her smile dropping slightly as the woman complimented Azzi’s hair, her outfit, even her smile. Azzi, as usual, was completely oblivious.
“Thanks,” Azzi said, flashing the girl a casual smile, but Paige could see what was going on, and it annoyed her just enough to act on it.
Without a second thought, Paige reached across the table, placing her hand firmly over Azzi’s. The waiter glanced down, her smile faltering as she realized the situation, quickly taking their order and backing off with a stiff nod.
Azzi blinked, glancing down at their hands before looking back up at Paige with an amused expression. “Was that jealousy?” Paige scoffed. “No, that was me stopping her from embarrassing herself.”
Azzi grinned, squeezing Paige’s hand. “Uh-huh. Sure, Paige.”
After dinner, the laughter between them hadn’t stopped. Even as they waved goodbye to their server, still teasing each other about that moment of jealousy, the warmth between them stayed, making the whole night feel like a dream.
Azzi didn’t even bother pulling out her card when the check arrived. The second she started reaching for her wallet, Paige shot her a look, the kind of look that said, don’t even think about it. Azzi had seen that look so many times before and just grinned, leaning back in her seat as Paige effortlessly snatched the check, sliding her own card inside before Azzi even got a chance to protest.
“Every time?” Azzi asked, her tone half-amused, half-resigned.
Paige just shrugged, a cocky smile on her lips. “I like spoiling you. What can I say?”
Azzi rolled her eyes, but the truth was she loved it too. It was a Paige thing—doing little things like this without asking, always showing she cared in her own way.
After they walked out of the restaurant, Paige naturally slipped her arm around Azzi’s waist like she always did. It wasn’t even a conscious move anymore; it was just how Paige was. Her hand rested comfortably against Azzi’s side, pulling her a little closer as they walked down the quiet street. Azzi leaned into her touch, feeling the warmth from Paige’s body and the comfort that always came with being this close.
Paige’s grip was gentle but firm, protective in a way that Azzi had always loved. It was something Paige did, even when she didn’t realize it—holding her close, like she was making sure Azzi knew she was always there, no matter what. It made Azzi smile, thinking about how many times Paige had held her like this over the years, whether after a tough game, during quiet moments between them, or just walking down the street like this.
They kept walking, laughing softly, the cool night air brushing against their faces, but neither of them seemed to notice. Everything felt easy between them, and Paige, in her usual way, kept the conversation light. Azzi could tell Paige was doing it on purpose, making her laugh to keep them from thinking too much about all the changes on the horizon.
They were about halfway to the car when Azzi suddenly slowed her pace, and Paige’s arm tightened slightly around her waist, glancing over with a curious look.
“You okay?” Paige asked, her voice casual but her gaze full of affection.
Azzi didn’t answer right away. She stopped, turning toward Paige and stepping in closer. Paige’s arm never left her waist, holding her in place like she always did, her body warm against Azzi’s side. Azzi stared at Paige for a long moment, just taking her in—the messy hair, the soft smile, the way she was always so present, so hers.
“I love you,” Azzi said suddenly, her voice soft but full of all the emotion she had been holding in. It wasn’t planned—it just came out, like it had been sitting on her chest, waiting for the right moment.
Paige blinked, a smile tugging at her lips as her eyes softened. Her hand on Azzi’s waist tightened slightly, pulling her just a bit closer. “I love you too,” she whispered, her voice gentle, almost like she couldn’t believe how lucky she was to hear those words.
They both stood there for a second, letting the words hang between them. Then, without thinking, Azzi reached up and cupped Paige’s face, pulling her in for a kiss. Paige didn’t hesitate, meeting her halfway, her lips soft and warm as they kissed in the middle of the street, the world around them fading away.
Paige’s arm stayed wrapped securely around Azzi’s waist as their kiss deepened, and it felt like everything else just melted away. It wasn’t rushed or frantic—it was slow and full of love, the kind of kiss that felt like a promise.
Azzi could feel Paige’s heartbeat against her own, steady and strong, and she knew, in that moment, that no matter what happened, no matter how far apart they might be in the future, they’d always have this. They’d always have each other.
When they finally pulled back, Paige’s forehead rested against Azzi’s, their breaths mixing in the cool night air. Paige smiled, her hand gently caressing Azzi’s side. “You’re stuck with me, you know that?” she whispered, her voice teasing but full of love.
Azzi grinned, her thumb tracing along Paige’s cheek. “Forever.”
———-
yeaa…that was a lot and so darn cute 🥹
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munson-blurbs · 2 days
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Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)
��� Summary: All of the distractions in the world couldn't keep you from worrying about the potential fallout from your web of untruths--until a bigger issue arose. (5.5k words)
♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, anxiety, parental conflict, poverty, brief religious zealotry, insecurities, secret relationship, public displays of affection, sexual fantasies, idiots in love, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)
A/N: This chapter contains a scene I had imagined in my head and became the catalyst for this series--what would happen if Eddie encountered one of the NYC street preachers?
♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult
chapter thirteen: street smarts
You were supposed to be doing something. Checking the guest log, organizing the bills by due date, making a list of repairs that still needed to be made…something. Anything besides just standing behind the desk, watching Eddie’s biceps flex as he hauled the overfilled trash bag out to the Dumpster. 
At this point, it was all busy work. Taking out the garbage, changing light bulbs, dusting furniture…all scraps of chores to keep him here. The moment he felt like he was being pitied—or worse, like he was being a burden—he’d leave. His pride was too strong and too loud to allow him to stay if he wasn’t working, even if that work was as interesting as watching paint dry. 
That’s what it was. 
“I need you to spackle a hole in Room 9,” you told him as he walked back into the lobby. “The guy staying here last night punched the wall, and it looks like he won.”
Eddie grimaced, flexing his own hand like he could feel the man’s pain. “Jesus. Yeah, sure.” He slid a rubber band off of his wrist and tied back his hair. The sleeves of his t-shirt had been cut into a tank top, though you weren’t sure if he’d done it or the shirt had been designed that way. “Where do you keep the spackle?”
You jabbed your thumb towards the supply closet behind you. Eddie started in that direction, but made an abrupt turn towards you. His arms snaked around your waist, his lips easily finding the crook of your neck. 
Instinctively, your shoulder jerked upwards, protecting you from any further tickling, but Eddie only doubled down. His kisses became less of a whisper and more of a shout, each punctuated with a smacking mwah!
“Ed-die!” Your giggles broke his name into its syllables. “Quit it!”
He paused for a moment and pretended to consider your plea before continuing his barrage of kisses. “Hmm, don’t think I will.” His words were muffled, the vibrations sending tingles through your bloodstream. “What’re you doing after your shift?”
You scoffed. “Um, curling up under the covers and passing out?”
“What if…” He moved his lips to the back of your neck. “You curled up under my covers?”
The suggestion garnered a dual sensation of desire and dread. You wanted that more than anything: the intimacy of laying next to him, his body curled around yours, the rhythm of his breathing lulling you to sleep. The first night he was here, he wore only boxer briefs. If you slept beside him, would he wear more? Less? If he awoke with that natural, involuntary stiffness between his legs, would you feel it?
But then, despite everything within you leaning towards being with Eddie, reality set in. Your room was the closest to the lobby; how could you possibly skip over it without Dad noticing? Even if he didn’t notice, how could you sneak out of Eddie’s room without Mom seeing? Dad might be oblivious in the way that fathers so often are, but Mom was like a hawk. She could probably sense that you were considering disobeying her orders to keep away from Eddie.
“I’d have to sneak through your window. And then sneak back through my own window in the morning,” you mused. 
“Or,” Eddie countered, spinning you around so you were facing him, “you could tell your parents that you couldn’t resist the cute handyman’s charming advances.”
His brown eyes gleamed with mischief as his hands dipped lower, squeezing your ass through your jeans. It took all of your willpower not to change the sign to read “NO VACANCY”—despite your many empty rooms—and drag him into his bed by the worn collar of his t-shirt. 
“I will.” You wrinkled your nose. “Well, maybe not in those exact terms, but I will tell them we’re…y’know.”
Eddie took a small step back and crossed his arms. “We’re…what?” His tone was somewhere between perplexed and demanding, like he couldn’t believe you wouldn’t define the relationship while also hoping you would define it for him.
You had no idea what the answer was. ‘Friends’ was far too casual for two people who had been sucking face in the middle of Flushing Meadows Park just last week. ‘Dating’ seemed too formal for only having been on two dates, the first of which hadn’t even been officially stated as a date from the onset. ‘Fooling around in the laundry room every chance we get’ was more accurate, if not a little wordy.
“We’re getting to know each other. Intimately.” You added that last word in an attempt to show him just how much you cared about him. Whatever relationship limbo you two were in would only be temporary. 
“Hmm.” A smirk tugged at Eddie’s lips. “Just how intimately are we talking here?” He tucked his forefinger into your belt loop and pulled you towards him, so close that you could feel his belt buckle through your shirt. 
Glancing around to ensure no one was walking by, you pressed a small kiss to his lips. “I’m gonna tell them. I promise. Just give me a little time.”
Your heart ached when his shoulders slumped. You wanted to fix it all now, to face your anxiety head-on and tell your parents about Eddie. Tell them that you were together and that it could be something serious—without holding your breath for their approval. 
But then there was that knife twisting in your gut, the one that echoed the same statements time and time again: 
You’re a bad daughter You’re disappointing them You’re negating every sacrifice they’ve made
But now a new one joined them, just as unwelcome as the others:
You’re going to lose Eddie if you keep being a coward. 
Eddie held your gaze for another beat before he broke it. His head tilted to the side, a slight pout forming on his lips. “Well, if you promise…” In one swift motion, he swooped in and kissed your cheek. When he pulled back, you wrapped your arms around his lithe waist and drew him back in. “Is that a yes for sneaking through my window?”
You gave him a gentle, playful shove and rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the fluttering butterflies that came with the idea. “Go spackle the wall.”
“Yes, dear.” He started towards the supply closet once more, calling out over his shoulder, “what time are we leaving for that college thing tomorrow?”
Everything he said and everything he did encroached closer and closer into relationship territory. Going to Admitted Students’ Day with you was something a boyfriend would do. 
But he hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend—not that it would make much of a difference. It wasn’t as though a label would suddenly afford you the freedom to show off your relationship. Besides your parents’ disapproval, that pesky news story about Death’s Echo’s new lead singer kept nagging at you. You technically had information about Eddie’s life that even he didn’t know, and you couldn’t figure out how to tell him. 
“Noon at the latest.” You tried swallowing the lump in your throat, but it stayed put, so you just spoke above it. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I know school isn’t really your thing, so…”
Eddie poked his head out from the closet. “Noon it is.” When he emerged, he held the small spackle bucket and a wide putty knife. “By the way, I won’t, like, break out into hives or burst into flames if I go to a school.”
“I know.” Your body relaxed as his humor snaked through the crevices of your anxiety. “And I really do want to tell them about everything. About us, about NYU. It’s just…”
Goddamn the mist clouding your eyes. It was shameful, really, the pity party you were throwing for yourself. But how could you approach your parents and say, “Hey, by the way, I’m dating our de facto handyman. But don’t worry about the relationship affecting the business, because we’ll have to close the motel once I start graduate school in two months anyway. Also, I’m studying social work, not hospitality. Surprise!”
“Hey.” Eddie’s voice was soft, his thumb swiping over tears that fell despite your efforts to hold them back. “Look, if you don’t want me to go, just tell me.”
You shook your head. “I want you to go.” To emphasize your point, you kissed his cheek. The beginnings of stubble tickled your lips. “We can make a day of it. Grab some lunch or something.”
Eddie didn’t look wholly convinced, but he managed a smile. “And then I get to show off how smart you are.”
There was no point in arguing that everyone at Admitted Students’ Day was just as smart as you, if not smarter. Instead, you watched as he padded towards room nine. 
What you wouldn’t give to cave to your desires and climb into his bed beside him. Whether you fell asleep immediately or spent the entire time with him firmly buried inside you was practically irrelevant. You were tempted to follow him right now and have sex with him in the vacant room.
But you didn’t want your first time together to be something you rushed through. Maybe it wouldn’t be the rose petals and naked guitar playing scenario that Ben and Nora had teasingly suggested, but you didn’t want to do it just to “get it over with.” 
So you stayed put, drumming your fingers against the desk’s wood paneling, trying to ignore the heat pooling between your thighs. Someday, you promised yourself, Eddie would be the one to quell that need.
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You left your room at noon the next day, armed with a smile and an alibi. Your usual excuse of running errands wouldn’t explain why you were wearing a black button-down dress and your Mary Jane heels. 
The door to Eddie’s room creaked open as you passed by. Without wasting a moment, one tattooed arm darted through the gap and pulled you inside. 
“Eddie!” You hissed at him, bringing one hand to your chest as your heart rate soared. 
His lips were on yours before you could ask why he felt the urge to spike your already sky-high anxiety. Like a miracle elixir, the kiss blunted the day’s sharpness and turned your racing thoughts into drifting clouds. 
Your hands found his biceps, fully on display in the t-shirt that had been altered to be a makeshift tank top. The same one, you realized, he’d been wearing last night. The pads of your fingertips were met with resistance at the muscle that was even more defined than it had been a month ago. 
“Just needed to do that before we left.” His palms smoothed down the back of your dress, lingering for an extra moment on your ass. “Ready to go?”
“Y-Yeah,” you nodded. All of the air had been knocked from your lungs; from the scare or from the kiss, you were still unsure. 
Eddie’s fingers brushed yours as the two of you left his room in a silent plea to hold your hand. You wanted to accept the offer, to proudly display your affection for him. You wanted it more than anything, so much so that you almost let your guard down. Almost took his hand in yours and paraded out into the lobby without a care in the world, subtly announcing that you were his and he was yours.
Almost.
A pang of anger flashed in your chest; not at the situation, but at Eddie himself. He knew you hadn’t told your parents yet. He knew you would face some consequences for dating a motel guest and for sneaking around behind their backs, especially if you brazenly flaunted the relationship without any notice.
Eddie huffed at your rejection. “Oh, right.” Was that disappointment or frustration? Or some lethal combination of both?
Dad immediately noticed the departure from your typical attire when you walked past; he’d already finished skimming the newspaper when you walked in. “Where are you off to?” 
“Hanging out with Ben and Nora.” The lie rolled  off of your tongue, just as you’d practiced in the mirror this morning.
“Double date?” Dad’s question was rhetorical, of course–he certainly wasn’t expecting you to actually go on a date with Eddie–but your breath still caught in your throat.
A cough, hopeful not too conspicuous to draw attention, delayed your response. “Uh, no. Just, uh, friend stuff.” Friend stuff? Christ, were you incapable of lying without extensive rehearsal?
He nodded, not even flinching. Thank God he was at the desk and not Mom, who definitely would have interrogated the truth out of you by now. 
“Have fun, be safe, make sure to ask Ben how his parents are.”
You promised to do all three and dashed out the door before he had time to ask Eddie any questions. 
You reached for Eddie’s hand the moment you were out of sight, relishing in the safety of his calluses and strong grasp. 
“So, friend.” Despite his playful nature, hurt tinged Eddie’s tone. “You sure we’re in the clear? Maybe someone down the street will see us holding hands and report us to the authorities.”
His words formed a pit in your stomach, anchoring you to the sidewalk. “This isn’t just for me.” You face him and take his other hand, too, wrapping his arms around your waist. “If my parents want to, they can kick you out. I need to tell them in a way that keeps them from absolutely losing their minds.”
The lines at the corners of Eddie’s eyes softened. “I know,” he conceded, kissing the tip of your nose. “Was it like this with other guys you dated? Or is it just because I’m staying at the motel?”
Shame washed over you for the second time in as many minutes. “I’ve never actually told them about any guys I’ve dated,” you admitted. “I mean, I’ve been on dates and had some short-term…relationships, I guess you could call them. But nothing serious enough for me to tell my parents.”
Eddie let out an anxious breath before asking his next question. “What does that mean for us?”
There it was: us. One unit, something more substantial than being separate individuals who happened to share a space. 
“Eddie…I really like you.” The confession was a weight off of your chest; you felt your body fall closer to his. “And if they know about us and they don’t approve, they’ll make sure to keep us apart. At least now, we can sneak around without them being suspicious.”
He looked like he wanted to say something else; if not to protest, then to ask for further clarification. But he swallowed his words, opting instead to kiss you. 
His lips tasted like disappointment. You pretended not to notice.
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The forty minute train ride to NYU eased some of the tension. With no seats available, Eddie kept one arm tight around your waist, the other hand wrapped around the overhead pole. His thumb caressed the small of your back, fingernail dragging over your cotton dress, as you leaned into him. 
The subway car was hot, but neither you nor Eddie were deterred in the slightest. Not even as that first bead of sweat crept down the back of your neck and dipped below your dress collar. 
If Eddie noticed the perspiration trickling down your spine, he didn’t comment on it. 
The tip of his nose tickled your temple as he loudly whispered, “I didn’t realize I was supposed to dress up for this.”
In addition to his tank top, Eddie wore black jeans ripped at both knees and his signature scuffed Reeboks. It was a stark contrast to your more professional attire—borrowed from Nora, of course—but you didn’t care. Couldn’t even bring yourself to care, not when…
“You look hot.” Your lips lingered on one exposed bicep, leaving a light lipstick print in their wake. “Ridiculously, unfairly hot.”
A bashful grin bloomed on his face. He stood up a bit taller, your compliment replenishing some of the confidence that had been lost. Eddie had certainly taken his share of ego bruising over the last few months: leaving Death’s Echo, the subsequent breakup with his girlfriend, sleeping in a struggling motel just to keep a roof over his head. And on top of it all, he was now with someone who refused to acknowledge the relationship in front of her own parents. 
That settled it. You were going to tell your parents tonight. No more hiding or sneaking around. If they lectured you on their disappointment, you’d take it. You just couldn’t fathom bringing more insecurity into Eddie’s life. He deserved more than that.
He deserves more than you, that irritating voice snarled. It curled itself around your ear like a wispy smoke trail from one of Eddie’s cigarettes, but did not dissipate as quickly. It lingered even as Eddie pulled you in closer to kiss you.
Your response was to slip your hand into his back pocket and curving it around his ass. Admittedly, there wasn’t much to grab onto, but it still woke up something slumbering within you. Something that had remained dormant since you’d gotten caught during the picnic last week. 
Longing stirred, carving out imagery of him atop you, your fingers grasping that sacred flesh without the burden of a denim barrier. You needed to know how he’d treat you in bed. Would he pounce like an animal capturing its elusive prey? Would he take his time and savor you like his last meal on Earth? Would he lovingly gaze into your eyes, or take you from behind to satisfy that primal need?
“What’s our stop again?” Eddie’s voice shook you from your lust-entrenched trance. 
“Oh, uh…” You fought to keep your train of thought on a more productive track. “West Fourth Street.”
He nodded and gripped the pole tighter as the car screeched to a halt. “Then this is us.”
Thank God he was paying attention. You were embarrassed at the mere notion of missing your stop because you were too lost in the idea of having sex with him. How would you even explain that to him?
“Nervous?” He asked as you exited the train car.
You shook your head. Surprisingly, you weren’t nervous about meeting other admitted students. They’d be a group of people just like you, reaching out a hand to help those in need. A group of people like you and Nora who shared a common goal of being positive forces in a world desperate for kindness.
The climb from the platform up to the street level brought with it a burst of fresh air—fresher than in the station, at least. You and Eddie made your way down Waverly Place, fingers loosely intertwined. He let you guide him, a half-step ahead, your knowledge of the city far exceeding his. 
You were only two blocks away from the school when you heard an obnoxious voice bleating through a megaphone. 
“Repent now or face damnation! You are all sinners who will burn in the fires of Hell for eternity!”
A middle-aged man wearing an off-center toupee stood in the middle of the sidewalk, shouting at passersby. 
“Revelations 21:8–But the cowardly, unbelieving, abominable, murderers, sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolaters, and all liars shall have their part in the lake which burns with fire and brimstone, which is the second death.”
You kept walking and ignored the man’s incessant preaching, expecting Eddie to do the same. 
That, you supposed, was naive on your part. 
Before you could stop him, Eddie let go of your hand and whirled towards the offender. His forefingers pointed upwards in mock devil horns, and the noise that came out of his mouth resembled something from The Exorcist. 
The preacher nearly keeled over at the sight of Eddie’s satanic display, sending you into a fit of cackling laughter. 
“Eddie!” You managed to hiss through your giggling. “Let’s go!”
Eddie took your hand once more and let you whisk him away from the dumbfounded man, the megaphone now hanging limply at his side. There was no doubt he would once again be spewing vitriol soon enough, but witnessing his temporary stunned silence was delicious. 
“I can’t believe you did that.” 
He shrugged. “I told you—I single handedly caused Hawkins’ own Satanic Panic. It’s not my first rodeo with these fire-and-brimstone assholes.”
“C’mon.” You tugged him along, shaking your head. “Let’s get out of here before he sics his disciples on us.”
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Admitted Students’ Day at NYU’s Silver School of Social Work wasn’t fancy; just some hors d'oeuvres spread out on a white tablecloth to give an air of elegance. Really, it was nothing more than a few fruit and vegetable platters, finger sandwiches, and some pigs in a blanket. You helped yourself to some strawberries and a cucumber sandwich, watching as Eddie piled the crescent-wrapped mini hot dogs onto a paper plate and topped them with a hearty spoonful of spicy mustard.
A chipper young woman wearing an NYU t-shirt welcomed you and Eddie, ushering you both towards a pile of stick-on name tags and permanent markers. You scrawled your name in blue ink and Eddie did the same, though he added “just here for the food” in smaller letters below his name. 
“Okay, everyone!” The woman took to the microphone at the front of the small conference room. “Welcome to Admitted Students’ Day! My name is Ashley, and I’m a recent alumna of our wonderful MSW program.” She beamed and paused for the smattering of applause. 
Ashley brushed a brunette curl from her eyes and continued. “We’ll get started in just a moment, but until then, please mingle and get to know one another.”
When you looked over at Eddie again, he was dabbing at his shirt with a paper napkin. “Dropped some mustard,” he mumbled. Sure enough, a dollop of yellow stained the black cotton fabric. “Guess we’ll need to make another trip to the laundry room tomorrow.” 
You swatted at him, though you couldn’t deny having the same thought. “You also have some right here,” you lied, poking at his cheek. “Here, I’ll get it.” You leaned in and pressed a kiss to the spot you had just touched. His skin warmed beneath your lips, and it took all of your restraint not to kiss him again.
A second woman sporting a name tag made her way over to you, accompanied by a man dutifully trailing behind her.
“Hi!” The woman chirped, flashing a smile far more genuine than Ashley’s. “I’m Alexis, and this is my boyfriend, Peter.” She gestured to the man. “It’s nice to see another couple here.”
A couple. You and Eddie were a couple, recognized as such by other people in a relationship.
Peter pointed to the message on Eddie’s name tag. “I see you’re also here for moral support,” he said with a grin. “The things we do for them, huh?”
“Please.” Alexis rolled her eyes, though a playful smile suggested she wasn’t annoyed in the slightest. “I went with you to your boring grad school orientation last week.”
You perked up, latching onto the information so you wouldn’t perseverate on the notion of couplehood. “What are you studying?”
“Mechanical engineering,” Alexis answered for him. “He’s brilliant, but just listening to the course descriptions had me falling asleep.” She turned her attention to Eddie. “What do you study?”
The telltale hue of embarrassment bloomed on Eddie’s cheeks. “Oh, I, um…I didn’t. I mean, I went to high school–finished high school–but I didn’t do the whole college…thing.” 
“He’s a musician,” you offered, if only to quiet his stammering voice. “A really talented one, too. He plays guitar and he sings.” You took his hand in yours in silent reassurance.
To her credit, Alexis didn’t let on that she’d picked up on his nervousness. She just smiled and asked him about the type of music he plays, swiftly shifting the conversation back on track.
The small talk continued for a few more minutes. You’d learned that Alexis and Peter had met in college; they’d both gone to Columbia, which was where Peter would be continuing his graduate studies. Alexis wanted a change of scenery and chose NYU, though Peter mentioned she’d also been accepted to their alma mater.
She went to an Ivy League university? The notion soured in your stomach. It was unrealistic to think that Alexis would be the only member of your cohort to hold a degree from an esteemed school; how would you be able to keep up with them? There was no way your meager city college education could even compare.
Mercifully, Ashley took to the microphone once again, this time with a gray-haired woman by her side, to begin the informational portion of the event. You and Eddie sat side-by-side, and you scooched closer when his arm instinctively draped over the back of your folding chair. The ease was a privilege; you could rest your head on his shoulder without being on alert. There was no threat of being caught, no guilt from sneaking around. The two of you were just another couple sitting in a sea of strangers. The idea was so enticing that you had to force yourself to focus on the course offerings and expected responsibilities. 
You definitely wouldn’t be able to keep up with your peers if you couldn’t even pay attention during orientation.
Two hours passed before Eddie’s stomach audibly growled; apparently, consuming his weight in miniature hot dogs was not enough to satisfy his appetite. You were starting to get hungry, too, and you’d spent the last thirty minutes saving off your hunger pangs.
“Wanna grab something to eat?” You whispered.
He nodded emphatically. “You’d think that one of these snobby rich-people schools would splurge for more food,” he said, thankfully under his breath. If someone had overheard…
Not to mention you’d be attending that ‘snobby rich-people school,’ and you were neither rich nor snobby. At least, you hoped you weren’t snobby. But did Eddie see you that way? Did he think you were keeping the relationship underwraps because of a deep-seated shame?
You bade your new friends goodbye, shot a shy smile at the professors who had spoken during the information session, and did your best to make an inconspicuous exit. 
The nearest bodega was just down the block, its shelves stocked with soon-expiring candy and various snacks. Eddie perused the aisles and stared at his options. You were much faster in your decision-making, grabbing a Crunch bar and chowing down as soon as you paid the cashier.
With Eddie still glancing between a bag of barbecue potato chips and a stick of beef jerky, you plucked the latest copy of Star from the rotating magazine stand and leafed through it. There’s no earth-shattering news–stories published in the tabloids rarely are. The most exciting story was about the upcoming Spielberg flick, one where dinosaurs roam the Earth in some sort of prehistoric zoo. You can’t help but wonder if Eddie would take you to see the movie for your third date.
You were about to close the magazine and tell Eddie to hurry up–or just buy both, and you’d foot the bill–when the bolded words in the news briefs section caught your eye.
Caleb Dalton, the lead singer and guitarist of Death’s Echo, checked into rehab after various alcohol-fueled encounters with the law. The band’s management states that they “hope to proceed with the tour” next month, though there is no word about finding a replacement.
Your mouth went dry, and you started choking on the bite of milk chocolate that hadn’t yet melted onto your tongue. Eddie looked over at you, concern etched between his drawn brows at your sudden coughing outburst.
“Wrong pipe,” you managed, closing the magazine as nonchalantly as you could and placing it back on the rack. “You ready to go?”
“Yup.” Eddie fished a dollar bill from his pocket and placed it on the counter. He was already digging into the bag of chips, blissfully unaware of what you’d just read. 
How would he react if he knew? Would he find it amusing that his replacement had already screwed up the tour? Infuriating that he’d been replaced by someone so unprofessional? Would it haunt him or would he consider it to be normal tabloid fodder?
A gut instinct told you to break the news to him—not here, but somewhere private. Somewhere he could process it without causing a public scene. The only thing worse than him finding out is him knowing that you already knew and hadn’t told him. 
Tonight, during your shift. And you could follow it up by letting him know that you were ready to tell your parents the truth. Selfishly, you were glad to have some leverage on them: Eddie would already be upset by the band’s news, so they couldn’t add to that stress by kicking him out, right? 
If only you could tell them about him accompanying you today, just to prove how serious this new relationship truly was. 
One step at a time. 
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You savored every moment spent together on the trip. The beginning of rush hour had the train too crowded to find a seat and to hold onto the pole, so Eddie held you by your waist to keep you steady. You felt his lips on the back of your neck every so often, his way of reminding you that he was there amidst the chaos. 
He trusted you, and he trusted you to trust him. 
It had come innately, the way you had divulged your secret to him. Yes, he had grabbed your book and questioned your alleged hospitality studies, but you could have shut him out. Put up a wall and told him to mind his business or hit the road. 
But you didn’t. And neither had he, choosing to divulge his saddest memories to you. Had given you a friendship and then something more. His presence was something you awaited at the start of every shift, the shared conversations now far more welcome than the quiet you once craved.
He always arrived at the desk by ten o’clock, sometimes getting there before you did. You’d find him making Mom laugh or listening to one of her many stories about the plethora of bizarre guests who stayed at the motel over the years. Mom liked him–you knew she did. All you needed to do was pivot her mindset in the right direction.
So tonight, when 10:25 rolled around and Eddie was nowhere to be found, your first instinct was to knock on his door and make sure he was all right. As soon as the thought popped into your head, you dismissed it as ridiculous. He was probably tired from schlepping through Manhattan and fell asleep. He’d probably planned to take a quick nap and promptly slept through his alarm, though you didn’t hear his clock radio bleating through the paper-thin walls.
Maybe this was a sign that you shouldn’t tell him about Death’s Echo and their troubled lead singer. You’d already kept quiet about the televised arrest that you watched at the bar; what was one more secret?
But that would sabotage your plan to pander to your parents with sympathy. You couldn’t exactly take the poor Eddie route without him knowing. Maybe you could–
Eddie’s door opened, yanking your attention from your running thoughts. Your heart beat double-time. This was it. You were going to tell him about Caleb Dalton’s rehab stint, tell him everything you knew.
But the voice you heard coming from his room wasn’t his. In fact, it wasn’t even a man’s.
“Promise me you’ll think about it?” A woman asked, a slight whine in her tone.
“Y-Yeah.” Though you couldn’t see him, you could tell from his hesitation that he wasn’t completely enthused about whatever he was supposed to be thinking about. “I promise.”
A soft mwah had you seeing red. It sounded like she’d only kissed his cheek, but maybe you were only fooling yourself. If she’d kissed his lips, those same lips that you’d been kissing earlier today…
“You’re the best, babe.” Jealousy raged in your core as she spoke, and you fought to keep it from exploding throughout your body. “We’ll get you out of this shithole in no time.” She punctuated her insult with a giggle. “Call me when you have your answer.”
“Mhm. Yeah.” And then his door closed.
Who was this woman? What was she doing here? Why didn’t Mom tell you that Eddie had brought someone to his room?
You got one answer once the mystery woman walked through the lobby, not even acknowledging your existence. She wasn’t wearing the heavy makeup that you’d seen in her photo, but there was no mistaking the owner of that blonde pixie cut, heart-shaped face, and piercing blue eyes.
They belonged to none other than Death Echo’s drummer.
Who also happened to be Eddie’s ex-girlfriend. 
--
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lovelookspretty · 10 hours
Text
lover of mine
drew starkey x actress!reader au
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— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.
warnings: a really long chapter part thing i fear . kisses .. maybe .. IM NOT SPOILING THIS
one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight
authors note: erm guys .. if im rushing this then do NOT pay attention !! I WANT THEM TO BE OKAY AGAIN JUST LIKE U GUYS I FEAR. I CANT HELP MYSELF. but do NOT think this is the end because this is NOT!! we still have to get through the rest of the second week + the wedding. and if u think about it, DAMN a lot happened in week 1 omg goodnight
anyway, if u still arent part of the tag list, feel free to let me know thru replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3333
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you keep your distance from him the next two days. you know you have to face him, and sometimes you do, but you’re stiffer than before. he knows better than anyone to maintain that gap until you’re okay again.
it just feels like your breakup with him all over again, but this time, for a different reason other than having too much time apart. this time, you’re all he spends time with but there just happens to be something getting in the way of that. another girl. it isn’t fair.
drew’s been trying to show in little ways that he’s sorry, but it doesn’t cut it for you. not yet. and you don’t want to lead him by a string and take advantage of him caring about you. but him bringing you breakfast, then trying to avoid you throughout the day until you’re back in libby’s bed again—it’s just frustrating.
you don’t even want to be there anymore. you don’t want to have to deal with this. but it’s for leila and theo, their day is coming up soon. you just want them to have a good time and then you can all separate ways and live your own lives again. how it’s always been and how it should be.
the guys are getting ready to visit town while the girls stay back. this isn’t for you though, and you’re grateful. gia proposed a self-care day after a package was shipped to the home, a large box of cookies, and safe to say you all agreed to the plan.
“i’ve been trying to get back into reading but i feel like i have no time sometimes,” leila’s telling you and the girls as you set up shop at the kitchen island.
there’s an array of face masks, moisturizers, rollers, oils, creams, other things they’ve wanted to try. gia even brings her diffuser and places it nearby as the tv in the living room plays.
“i recommend ‘doomsday’!” libby perks up from across the table. “i read it last summer and let me tell you, i bawled crying for a month straight.”
“y/n, you read,” leila says as she files her nails, crossing a leg over another. “what are your recommendations?”
“hey,” theo greets leila as he and the boys join you four at the table, each with their respective girlfriend besides libby and oscar, and technically you and drew. he hovers behind you but just merely nods his head to say hello. “we’re gonna head out.”
“oh, okay,” leila says with a small frown, but kisses him goodbye. “drive safe, alright?” you’re winking at roman who points at you to say to behave, but he kisses gia’s cheek before he’s following theo out.
you answer leila from earlier with a shrug, “i’ve been wanting to find ‘the last love letter’ but i haven’t really been reading lately. been too busy.”
gia mouth gapes open as she slams her hand on the table, nearly knocking something over. “shut up, i’ve been wanting to read that too!” she shrieks as libby tells her to be more careful.
you can only giggle at her while she gets off her seat and comes up behind you to pull your hair and tie it back.
“that book is literally nowhere, i swear the author only made like five copies of it.”
“have you guys read ‘self sabotage’?” leila asks as she and libby, already prepared, begin to place their face masks on.
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you’re on the couch with the girls as libby records you on her phone. the box of cookies are opened and after careful review, you’ve all decided what to try first and what comes after that, and so on.
“now?” you ask libby if she’s ready, and she nods. you, leila, and gia take a cautious bite out of the pieces you’ve broken off of the first cookie. it only takes you a few chews in to realize how heavenly it is. gia even pretends to faint beside you.
“holy shit,” leila says as she covers her mouth, taking a look at the cookie with wide eyes. “are you serious?”
libby lunges at you with her phone to take it from her, “well now i wanna try it!”
you’re in a fit of laughter as you try to turn the camera around before she can sink her teeth in, but she’s too fast. your eyes widen at the girl, “libby, slow down!”
and eventually, you’re full of cookies and half of them are still yet to be tried. you agree with the girls to continue this matter tomorrow if the boys don’t eat it all themselves, and you know they will. you’re just glad you’ve already tried all the ones you really wanted to before then.
when the guys get home, it’s exactly what you anticipated. they bee line directly to the cookies on the coffee table, but not without greeting you all first.
theo groans as he takes a bite, roman right beside him to stuff a whole chunk in his mouth. “this is better than sex,” he murmurs while roman snaps his fingers several times. leila can’t help but nod in agreement.
“i feel cookie-drunk,” you say with your hand on your stomach, and gia curls up into your side as she holds onto hers. “what’d you guys get?”
roman is quick to reach into his bag and pull out a couple of keychains, as if he just got reminded about something. he tosses one at gia’s head, and you look over to see what it is.
“the world’s okayest girlfriend,” she reads aloud, and she chucks it back at him, no longer accepting the gift that roman laughs about. she gets up to see what else is in his bag, leaving drew to plop down next to you and libby, who’s on the other side of you this whole time.
she’s cleaning the ice cream off her spoon when she speaks up for you and her, “what’d you get?”
“few things,” he says as he lets you look inside for yourself.
you pull out a long box and open it. it’s a chain bracelet, sterling silver. it’s nice, and you nod with raised brows. there’s other things inside that you only glance at, but when you look up at him you notice the new pair of sunglasses that’s resting on his head.
you pull it off of him silently and place it on yourself, unspokenly thanking him for the temporary gift you’ll give back later but you like them so now they’re yours for a few hours.
drew purses his lips and closes his bag, assuming you’re done, so he gets up and starts heading upstairs. you look over at libby. without hesitation, she asks, “you okay?”
you hesitate, and you know she’s only asking this because this is one of drew’s brief interactions with you since a few days ago. but you shrug it off, “yeah, i’m okay,” you say.
libby doesn’t miss a beat, she’s not convinced at all. she knows you well enough to understand what ‘im okay’ really means is ‘i’ll be okay’. that it’s not okay, but it will be eventually.
she’s seen this look on you before, during the hardest parts of your relationship with drew. she can feel the unspoken words between them, the ones you don’t even need to say out loud.
“right,” libby says with a soft sigh. she wraps her arms around you, pulling you into a comforting hug. “you’ll be alright,” she whispers. you know she won’t pry further, but knowing that whatever drew did, it was enough to hurt you again.
after a few moments, she pulls back and, with a small smile, asks, “wanna help me with dinner soon? leila thought it’d be nice to eat out in the backyard tonight, by the pool.”
you hum softly, nodding your head, “yeah, that sounds good.”
libby grins, “awesome. ‘cause it’s pizza night and i cannot do it alone.”
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the next few hours blur together. you’ve successfully prepared the pizzas with libby and slid them into the oven. now you’re cutting into them and displaying them outside on the table.
it used to be bare, but someone since morning has gone out there to help decorate the backyard to make it just a little flashier. there’s a cloth on the table, which is scattered with candles, flowers, dishes, platters of cookies, fruits, a charcuterie board, and there’s a helpful variety of drinks.
fairy lights blink across the backyard, even over the pool, and it illuminates the whole place. you place the different pizzas in between each candle piece, which libby lights as you do. when you call everyone outside, you join together at the table.
and once theo leads you once again with the ‘i’m grateful for my future wife’ shit, you get to dig in. you’re pretty sure it was longer this time around and even roman started to just eat until he was kicked under the table by drew.
“fucking finally,” libby murmurs under her breath after theo concludes his speech, to which causes him to pick up an olive off the plate and toss it at her. “yeah, you’re so lucky i like olives,” she whispers to herself as she rearranges her napkin, “fucking loser.”
“libby,” you scold, though you can’t hide your laugh. she’s grinning when she looks up, silently laughing with you.
when you turn to drew on the other side of you, he’s taking large bites from his slice. he tilts his head back with a groan, then takes a longer look at the pizza as he chews.
“s’it good?” you ask, and he nods rapidly, and soon his body moves with it. you bring yourself to smile, grateful that people you care about like what you’ve cooked.
you reach over to take your own slice from each pizza and just stack it on your plate, planning on going through them one by one from the one on too being the one you least want to eat, and the last at the bottom being the one you’re most excited for—a ‘save the best for last’ type of thing. it’s silly but you do it anyway.
drew’s finishing up his bite when he leans into you gently. “i have to talk to you later, by the way,” he says, and it sort of startles you because at this point you’re just talking to libby.
you look at him with furrowed brows, but again, you’re not mad. you’re not upset with him. at least not in this moment, you can’t be.
and it looks like he’s grateful because he can see it too. “if that’s alright with you,” he says, then takes another bite. you just nod at him in silence, and watch as he turns back to oscar who’s on his other side before talking to him.
you look straight ahead where roman’s sitting, and he sends you a look. he heard drew talking to you, he knows it must be about something important, but it’s not what’s on your mind right now.
you shrug it off. “—tell you later,” you mouth to him, then turn to libby when you realize she’s talking to you again.
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after dinner, gia and leila clean dishes while literally all of the guys clean up outside as a thank you to you and libby, who lay across the living room with bellies filled with food.
there’s a movie playing on tv that you can barely pay attention to, but you’ve been laying there for about an hour so if you really want to, you could. you just play into the laziness that you’re allowed.
you hold your phone above you as libby rolls around the carpet, or at least that’s what you last saw her doing before you looked away. you’re scrolling through texts with your manager as if a new message will come in.
“did elyse get back to you?” libby asks, a face-full of carpet and it sounds like she’s just a few feet away. “about the thing.”
“no,” you mumble, then turn your phone off and set it face-down on the carpet, just like libby. the side of your head is laying on your arm as you look at her. “i could go for another cookie.”
“you ate three!” libby’s muffled voice raises.
“and i’ll make it four,” you tell her, raising your volume back. you consider getting up but don’t feel like it. you can actually lay here forever—maybe.
“y/n,” you hear his voice. it’s drew.
and you get up immediately. he was so softspoken, so cautious with you. he’s entering the house with the other boys who must’ve finished outside, meaning it’s time to have his talk. you almost ask if you guys can just have it there if it’s not that important, but if that’s possible then he wouldn’t be trying to get you alone.
you look over to libby, who—at the sound of drew’s voice—peeked her eyes out to see what he wanted. she looks to you, and she understands why you have to go. she convinces herself to get up and find the remote so she can turn the volume up.
you know it’s for you and drew, and a part of you wants to nudge her or be offended, and you do. is this going to be normal behavior in the house? turning up the volume just for you and drew when you guys need to have these ‘talks’ that are just screaming practice in disguise?
you’re almost embarrassed but you know that you’d rather have this than let them hear you two upstairs.
you follow him to your room, or technically his room as of three nights ago, and he lets you inside first. there’s a chilling feeling when you realize what’s about to happen and you feel like he’s literally about to murder you.
the room is clean, for the most part. you didn’t doubt for a second that he wouldn’t take care of this room regardless if you’re in it or not. his bed isn’t made and his backpack’s on the edge of it, opened and rifled through.
you look to him when you’ve entered, and he nods toward the bed, as if to say he would rather you sit there while you listen to what he has to say, so slowly, you make your way over and settle down on the edge.
drew pulls out a chair from the desk across the bed and turns it around, pushing it closer to you. you’re surprised that he’s doing a whole setup just to talk to you. maybe he really is going to kill you.
“i haven’t been honest at all . . . since we started talking again,” he begins as he sits down in front of you. you stay there and close your mouth. you want to hear what he has to say, even if it ends terribly. you need to hear what he’s been thinking. “so i’d like to tell you everything about this past year if you’re okay with that.”
you shrug and gesture to let him have the floor. “please,” you insist with a nod.
he sighs as he fiddles with his fingers in his lap. “there’s . . . mila," he starts, and even though you knew this conversation was coming, it still stings when you hear her name.
“i guess you could call it a situationship or whatever,” he says before he catches himself, realizing how that sounds. “i mean, to me, it felt like that. but i think—” he pauses, chewing on his words. “no, she definitely saw it as more. she always viewed it as a relationship.” he glances at you, watching for your reaction, but you just sit there, waiting.
he rubs a hand over his face, frustrated with himself. “we just weren’t on the same page. i was . . . i was using it to distract myself, if i’m being honest. and i know that’s not fair. i knew it even then. but it felt easier than than facing what i was actually feeling at the time.”
he continues, “i told myself it was nothing, but i knew, deep down, it wasn’t fair to her. she didn’t deserve to be strung along like that.”
you feel your chest tighten, but not from jealousy. it’s you knowing that someone else had been hurt in this too, someone who had clearly thought there was more between them. “does she know? about this?” you ask him.
he flinches slightly, as if the concern you’re showing for mila makes this even harder to explain for him. he hesitates, “i officially ended things with her three nights ago. the night you confronted me about her. i told her it was over, that i couldn’t keep pretending things were fine when they weren’t. she didn’t take it well. and honestly, i don’t blame her.”
you’re quiet for a moment—so he’s decided to keep you and him a secret from mila? to spare both his and her feelings? you aren’t sure if you should bring light to it or just push it aside. you did say before that it was ultimately his decision.
“i’m glad you told her,” you say carefully, but there's a pause before you add, "but i can’t imagine how confusing this must be for her.” you shift in your seat, rubbing your palms on your knees. “i mean, from her perspective, this whole thing must feel like it came out of nowhere.”
he swallows hard, nodding. “yeah, it wasn’t fair to her. not at all.”
there’s a beat. he looks at you, his expression more vulnerable than you’ve seen in a long time. “i told her about you,” he says. he’s quiet, as if he’s afraid of the confession. “i told her that i’m . . . that i’m still not over you. that i don’t think i ever really was.”
what?
you blink, startled by his words, though in a way, you’re not entirely surprised. you’ve felt the tension between you two from the moment you started talking again, but hearing him admit it, finally saying it out loud . . .
his voice is rough, like he’s forcing himself to continue. “but that’s why things with mila were never real. not for me, at least. i kept telling myself i could move on, that i could just forget, but every day i’d realize i wasn’t. i couldn’t let go of you.”
“but you broke up with me, drew,” you remind him. “that doesn’t necessarily sound like you’re in love with me.”
“i didn’t break up with you because i didn’t love you,” he says, his brows furrowed. “i do, more than i’ve ever loved anyone else.” his eyes meet yours briefly before dropping to his hands, which he’s fiddling with in his lap. “like, it was the opposite. i felt like i wasn’t enough for you. like i was failing you.”
you feel your breath hitch in your throat, but you don’t interrupt. you sit up on the bed.
he leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he speaks. “our jobs, the schedules, the distance . . . it was tearing us apart, you know? and every day, i’d think about how i wasn’t giving you what you deserved. we were supposed to click, supposed to last, but i felt like i was just holding you back.” his voice is quiet, and he rubs his forehead slowly. “and i couldn’t stand the thought of you waiting for me when i could never give you the time you needed. it was eating me alive.”
you stay quiet, but tears prick at the corners of your eyes. his words hit hard, and you feel like everything that was left unsaid was finally coming to light now—there were arguments that could’ve been avoided, the misunderstandings that built up. he was overthinking, spiraling, and instead of talking to you, he made the decision for both of you.
“and i just kept thinking, like . . . ‘she deserves someone who can be there for her, really be there. someone who can come home to her every night’. i wasn’t that guy. i’d go days without seeing you, weeks even, and it broke me.” he swallows hard again, shaking his head. “i convinced myself that you’d be happier with someone else. someone who wasn’t always on some stupid set, always busy.”
your heart aches as you watch him, his guilt written all over his face. you lean forward and whisper, “but you don’t get to decide that for me, drew. we make decisions together. or at least, that’s how it’s supposed to work.”
“i know,” he mutters, his tone regretful. “i know that now. but back then, i thought i was doing the right thing. i thought i was . . . protecting you, i guess. from me.”
you shake your head, wiping at the tears that are now falling freely. “protecting me from you? drew, i never, ever wanted anyone else. i wanted you. i didn’t care about the schedules, or the distance. i would’ve waited, and we could’ve figured it out. together.”
his eyes finally meet yours again, and for the first time, you can see the depth of his regret. “when we broke up, i tried. god, i tried to move on. i tried to find something, you know? but i was always looking for you.” he takes a shaky breath. “every girl i met, i’d compare them to you. i’d look for pieces of you in them, trying to find something familiar, something that felt right. but it never worked.”
you knew he had tried to move on, but hearing that he was always searching for you in others, that no one ever compared. it leaves you speechless for a moment. if that’s what happened, then why invest so much time into mila?
you finally gather the courage to ask, “mila. did she . . . was she like me?” your voice is soft, almost hesitant, but you need to know.
“no,” he admits, shaking his head. “not really. mila was cool, and she’s . . . she’s great in her own way. but no. she wasn’t like you.” he pauses, as if trying to find the right words. "but i remember i wanted her to be."
he didn’t try to replace you with mila, but it was clear that he had been searching for something, anything, to fill the void you left behind. and it never worked.
“no one’s ever going to compare to you, y/n,” he continues, “i realize that now. it took me a while, but i’ll always search for you in everyone, and it’s never going to be the same. it’ll never feel the way it felt with you."
for the first time in a long time, you feel like you’re finally getting the truth. the real, unfiltered truth about why things ended the way they did. he wasn’t running because he didn’t care. he was running because he thought he wasn’t enough for you. and now, he’s sitting here, telling you everything he couldn’t say before.
“i’m sorry,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper now, on the verge of crying. “i’m sorry for walking away. for not talking to you about it when i should’ve. i was scared. scared that i wasn’t enough for you, and scared that i never would be.”
you can feel the tears still lingering in your eyes, but there’s also a strange sense of closure. you’ve needed to hear this for so long, to understand why things fell apart the way they did. and now, you finally do.
“i messed up,” he says, “i messed up everything, and i know it. but i never stopped loving you and i’m . . . i’m still in love with you.”
you stay silent, blinking away the burn in your eyes, trying to absorb what he’s saying. part of you feels relief, but another part of you is cautious. you’ve been hurt before like this. by another and by him.
he watches you closely, and it feels like the longer the silence is, the more anxious he gets. “i know this doesn’t fix anything, and i’m not asking you to forgive me or take me back. i just needed to tell you the truth. i needed you to know that mila . . . ? mila was never you. no one is.”
the room feels too small suddenly, too full of emotions that you don’t know what to do with. you take a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts, but all you can manage to say is, “why now, drew? why are you telling me this now?”
his gaze softens, “because i didn’t want to lose you again. not without you knowing the truth.”
you can only look down at your lap. your vision blurs as you try to focus on your fingers, interlocked and tense in your lap, the pressure in your chest is tightening by the second.
you don’t trust yourself to speak just yet, so you hold everything in, to find the right words, but nothing comes out.
when you finally lift your head to look at him, the tears are already pooling in your eyes. you blink rapidly, trying to keep them from spilling over, but it’s useless. without saying anything, he stands up and pulls you into him, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame.
you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding as your face presses into his chest, and it’s like the dam inside you finally breaks. the tears fall freely now, your body shaking as you cling to him, feeling the warmth of his arms around you—something you’ve missed so desperately.
and it’s not just about the last few days. it’s about the past year of missing him, of pretending you were okay when you weren’t. and you can tell drew needed this too. you can feel it in the way his grip tightens, like he’s afraid to let go, like he’s trying to hold together everything that’s broken between you both.
you stay like that for a long time, the sound of your quiet sobs muffled by his chest, his hand slowly rubbing up and down your back as if to soothe the ache inside you. it’s a comfort you haven’t felt in so long, and it is exactly what you’ve needed.
toward the end of it, your face still pressed against his chest, you mumble something, your words half muffled by the fabric of his shirt. he loosens his hold just a little, enough for you to pull back slightly, just enough to breathe. “i . . .” you take a shaky breath, your hands still gripping his arms, and when you finally meet his eyes again, you whisper, “i never stopped loving you either.”
the words hang between you, raw and honest, and as soon as you say them, you see the way his expression softens, like it’s the only thing he’s been waiting to hear.
his lips crash into yours, urgent and insistent. his fingers tighten against the back of your neck, pulling you closer, as if he can’t get enough. his lips coax yours open, deepening the kiss, and he swallows the whimper that escapes you.
his other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into his lap as he sits back on the bed. he kisses you like he's been starved of you, his tongue swirling against yours, his hands exploring every inch of your face, your neck, your hair. this is what he’s been waiting to do.
his hands trail down to your hips, pulling you flush against him, and he breaks the kiss, only to trail his lips along your jaw, down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “stay with me tonight?”
you can’t get enough of him, and although you know that everything can’t be completely fixed over just one conversation, sleeping and waking up in the same bed as him isn’t hurting anyone.
you nod, a soft smile on your face that causes him to grin. but he pulls away slowly hesitating for a moment, his smile growing a little wider as he reaches past you into his backpack, his fingers rummaging around as if he’s searching for something precious.
you watch him, curiosity bubbling inside you. what could he possibly have?
“hold on,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice low and filled with warmth, and you smile as you press another kiss to his.
finally, he pulls out a book, holding it out toward you with a look of pure joy on his face. you take a look at it but almost don’t even catch it the first time until a second later. your heart skips a beat as you recognize it—the last love letter.
“shut up,” you say, taking it into your own hands to see if it’s real. and of course it is.
he nods, a soft smile spreading across his lips. “i heard you talking about it with the girls before we left earlier,” he explains, but he knows you can tell already that much. there’s a goofy look on his face as he wipes underneath one of his eyes. “i knew how much you wanted it and i saw a copy in town, so . . .”
“no, shut up. i can’t take this,” you exclaim, feeling tears welling in your eyes. “star.” the words spill out, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming gratitude. it’s not just the gift; it’s the thought behind it that strikes a chord deep within you. you trace the cover with your fingertips as if it’s a treasured artifact.
he watches you intently. “i wanted to,” he assures you. “i heard it, i thought it would mean something to you.”
your gaze shifts from the book to him. “thank you, it does,” you whisper, your voice shaking as you blink out a few more tears.
you set the book aside momentarily, throwing your arms around him once again. the embrace feels like a lifeline. you hold him tightly, your heart racing as you bury your face against his shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent.
he wraps his arms around you, holding you just as tightly, as if he’s afraid to let go. the world outside fades away, and in this moment, it’s just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s arms, a bubble of intimacy where everything feels right again.
after a long pause, as you pull back slightly to meet his gaze, you can see the softness in his eyes. “you really didn’t have to do this,” you say again, looking down at the brand new book. “but it means the world to me that you did.”
he grins, “i know it’s just a book, but i wanted to show you that i’m here—like, really here this time.” and you are so glad he is.
“i missed this,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
he closes his eyes for a moment, and you continue to explore the pages of the book, though your thoughts keep drifting back to him. aw you run your fingers through his hair, it dawns on you how much you've missed this—this connection, this easy banter, the comfort of being together.
“i missed us,” you finally admit, looking into his eyes, and in that moment, everything feels right again. it all floods back to you.
he shifts slightly, leaning in closer, and his arms slide to wrap around your waist as he lays his head on your shoulder to take a look at your book with you, his voice in relief as he mumbles, “me too.”
and you’re happy, it all just feels like your dream again.
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wintersera · 15 hours
Text
01 — frozen awakening
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masterlist
— pairing: kim minjeong x scientist!reader
notes: half of the time i was writing out this chapter, i was listening to this “dystopian scifi” ambience on youtube to get into the mindset 😭
cw: pwp, SMUT, reader is a virgin, a guy dies, descriptive language of a gross looking monster, two guns being used, a singular needle, non consensually taking blood.
wc: 11.6k
personal log: no. 235
status performance on the prosthetic arm created approximately 47 days ago:
inactive. per usual. i don’t know why the officer constantly nags me about consistently trying to get the damn thing to work. clearly it isn’t. not one budge, not one twitch. nothing. just a lifeless chunk of metal. i’ve hooked it up to the life source in pod 05, but man, this piece of shit is just too stubborn to move.
but it’s not like i can do anything about it anyway. i was assigned to this position and the officer will kick my ass if i don't manage to make this arm move by the end of this month… what does he know anyway? the military is full meatheads who know nothing about science.
anyway, signing off.
kwon [redacted].
date: 16/01/xxxx
“it’s late, doctor”
with one click of the keyboard, a quick swig of the umpteenth energy drink of today, and one final weary exhale, you recline back into your desk chair, swivelling the black and dusty seat around to meet your coworker.
“i know. but officer kim wants this arm done by next month. can’t afford to leave the lab even if i wanted to” on the table lies a metallic arm, a few wires attached to the wrist and fingers. “oh and to make matters worse, the things not budging. at all…” you say through gritted teeth as your frustration was evident. the thing was a cold and empty vessel, disgustingly soulless, lacking heat and life. this wasn’t something you enjoyed, but you had to do regardless.
again, you let out a weary sigh, propping your elbow up on the table as you rest your head against the heat of your palm. exhaustion was shown in the deep and dark circles that had settled uncomfortably underneath your eyes, your hair carelessly thrown in the messiest and loosest ponytail your fatigued fingers and arms could manage. the same could be said for your lab coat too. the once crisp and prim white material all crumpled up and wrinkled together. then there was your name tag that hung on your breast pocket askew… jesus, when was the last time you had a shower?
“…well, don’t overwork yourself too much, doctor. your intellect exceeds most of us, and if you’re exhausted your research would be gibberish garbage that we wouldn’t be able to decipher, and you know that” the doctor in front of you gently scolded you as they whipped their head towards your slumped over body, a low and equally fatigued chuckle parting from their lips, resting a hand on your back as they point out your scribbled down notes and diagrams “c’mon doctor. i’ll shut down the lab for you. just head back to the dorm”
for what felt like an eternity, you had remained firmly glued to your chair, immersed in your own task. the hours had flown by in a blur of focus and determination, your body stiff and cramped from the prolonged stillness. finally, you pushed yourself to your feet, a chorus of creaks and pops echoed through the empty room, your aching back cracking as you attempted to straighten your spine “alright, but i need to do a quick check around the building first.”
“hey” despite the apparent fatigue in the doctor's face, they addressed you with a hint of spirit “how about we split? that way we both can head back to the dormitory much faster”
“sounds fair. i’ll go check around section 02, there’s more tech in there. i don’t think a rookie like you can handle all that”
feeling the weight beneath your feet, you trudge silently throughout the various corridors, the faint, eerie glow of the flickering blue fluorescent lights casting shadows across the floor. at some point, you swear you could hear the sound of skin slapping across the freezing floors, but you paid no mind to that. maybe it was your mind playing games with you. after all you were on the verge of passing out.
with each step you took, the soft echoes of your footsteps and your laboured breathing ricocheted off the hollow walls. the corridors seemed to stretch out endlessly in the gloom, a sense of disorientation seeping slowly into your body “how long did they have to make these corridors… swear to god i’ll die in one of them some day”
a sense of dread suddenly washed over you. something seemed wrong, like fresh air had wafted through the dusty building. then after a prolonged and uncomfortable silence, there was a deafening clash, perhaps a thick sheet of metal had fallen onto the ground flat onto the ground.
protocol states that if you heard a strange sound emitting from any of the rooms, and if no scientist that was assigned were present, it would be best to avoid the area as a whole, maybe to even contact the military in case it was a one of your regular mutant attacks.
yet, for some inexplicable reason, you found yourself trusting your intuition. as you carefully tiptoed into the familiar room, you laid eyes on one of the cryogenic pods. all of them had been occupied by presumably brain dead bodies, preserved for historical records should memory extraction ever be required from the era of old earth. all of the pods were pristinely polished from the top all the way down to the bottom, the glass surfaces gleaming in the darkness. but that one pod. it’s once smooth and functional form was now severely damaged from an unknown cause. the cryogenic liquid that kept the body preserved inside, flowed slowly out of the broken vessel. with a depressing trickle, it pooled around the front of the pod, drops of the substance bringing forth a strange sense of melancholy. it was like a cruel mockery to the warmth and life that it contained.
on the pod was a date of birth, and a name.
“patient 0101, huh? born january 1st 2001.” you muttered, unable to hold back the ironic chuckle “wow, what a birthday to celebrate. now, the name” with the sleeve of your crinkled lab coat, you wiped away the condensation that had clung to the cold metal of the surface.
“ah, shit. old korean lettering” you reached into your pocket to extract out a bizarre looking device. it’s red laser scanning the old korean characters. a beep signalled the completion of the scan, the device’s screen displaying the full translation of the mystery person's name.
“kim minjeong” you read aloud. the name rolled off your tongue easily. though it was a much older version of the current korean language, it still held its similarities.
this was uncharted territory. a cryogenic pod breaking out of the blue was unheard of. a concept so unrealistic and impossible, and yet, against all odds, a body laid there. preserved, untouched. ready to be researched and discovered by an extremely talented scientist. ahem, aka you.
as a researcher, a scientist who specifically specialised in biomedical engineering, neurobiology and material science, you felt the sudden compulsion to retrieve the naked body out from the vessel and cradle it into your arms. the girl felt cold to the touch, lifeless in your embrace.
“doctor jeon doesn’t need to know about this…” fiddling with the radio on your belt, you hastily call in your coworker, the scientist on the other side of the building concentrating on their task
“hey, i’m nearly done closing up your workstation. you sure have a shit ton of empty red bull cans… sheesh”
“uh, about that. just remembered that i’ve got a few important things to attend to. leave without me. oh and don’t close down my workstation you idiot. it’s open for a reason” your mind raced with many questions as you dismissed your coworker so urgently. how did her pod break? who was she? what was old earth like? how would she react to waking up a millennia in the future? was she dreaming whilst under a comatose-like state during the cryogenic freezing?
besides all of the questions swirling around in your mind, you momentarily set them aside to focus on the more pressing matters “you must be cold, right?” you whisper as if you were to wake her from her deep slumber “here, take my coat” you slid off your lab coat, draping it around the girl’s smaller frame. without further thought, you carry the girl’s almost weightless body in your arms, pressing her closely into you, being careful not to jostle her around too much.
again with the endless stream of corridors within corridors and hallways within hallways.
it was bothersome to navigate through them every single day. even after working for years here, some way or another you’d end up lost “i don’t have time for this…” you tread carefully throughout the lengthy halls, holding onto the naked girl’s body with a tight grip.
upon hearing footsteps of a nearby officer, you quickly, yet cautiously step closer and closer to your workstation on the far end of the room you had just entered.
it was a long day, and you hadn’t had time to perform the sterilisation procedure in a hot minute. but there was another issue at hand, you had a girl in your arms.
fuck it.
you adjusted your grip carefully, holding her up with one arm and one hand, and the other arm free to clean up the possibly stained table from your previous fiasco. carefully you slinged her over your shoulder as you began the tedious process of thoroughly cleaning the surface.
cryogenic incident log no.1
subject: patient 0101, kim minjeong.
DoB: january 1st, 2001 (old earth era)
vitals: currently unconscious. vitals are weak, however pulse and respiratory rates are within a safe and acceptable range. brain activity, questionable (most likely due to a millennia of cryogenic preservation)
condition: slightly hypothermic
appearance: asian, 5’4, quite frail. appears to be in her 20’s, pale skin (either from cryogenic preservation or genetics), bleached blonde hair.
extra notes: further examination and tests are required to determine the subject's health status and her identity. subject kim minjeong has a rather peculiar mark on her neck. further examination will be performed once subject kim minjeong regains consciousness.
kim minjeong will be placed under doctor kwon [redacted]‘s care until further notice.
date: 16/01/30xx
there you were, observing the young woman’s unconscious body sprawled across table. a multitude of wires were attached to her, one particular one on her chest just below the collarbone. that specific wire was connected to a monitoring device, displaying the activity of her heart on a dusty and almost broken up screen, thanks to the military’s lack of investment, and also not giving a shit about the devices you scientists had to work with. each placement of different leads were positioned accordingly; every vital signe shown on the screen. she was somehow alive despite her predicament.
all signs showed that she was fine, but deep down you knew there was definitely something up with her.
the wavelength began to accelerate, which made your own heart drop out of sheer panic.
she was quickly regaining consciousness and you didn’t know what to do.
minjeong’s fingers twitched underneath the white polyester blanket that covered her bare body. you could see them moving one by one, each finger wriggling around as they struggled to find life. and for a split second, you swear you could see her eyes twitch.
as sick and twisted as it may be, seeing her sprawled out on the table had you thinking a few inappropriate things. she was out, unconscious as a person could get… so vulnerable under the thin and flimsy blanket. with her in mind, you huffed out a small unexplainable sigh.
without warning, her arm jolted suddenly. her muscles began to spasm for a few one second intervals until they both came to a stop.
and then, with a gasp, minjeong’s eyes snapped open. her body sprung up right, heavily panting, her bare chest heaving with deep breaths as she whipped her head around the dimly lit room.
“…hello?”
“hi…”
no amount of training could have prepared you for such a situation. a whole ass woman, who you thought was on the brink of death, was alive. a woman who was born a millennia ago right in front of your very eyes “there… might be a language barrier between us. do you understand what i’m saying?” you clutched the alien looking translation device in the palms of your hands, scanning over the subject for any signs of distress.
“where am i?” this girl looked around frantically, taking in the foreign surroundings. the wires were hooked onto the monitors that were connected to her body, the dimly lit turquoise coloured room, the constant beeping of her heart beat showcasing on one of the alien looking devices right next to her. all of it was creating a sense of disorientation and confusion. she had no idea where she was, what year it was. then there was you, standing behind the glass as your eyes shined bright in contrast to the darkness.
“maybe she’s simply disorientated…” you mutter under your breath. well, since she had just woken up from a one thousand year sleep, would it be alright to tell her the truth. “you- you’re inside a facility. the whole cryogenic free-“
“then where’s my money?” she abruptly interrupted you to ask one of her questions “where’s the one million i was promised? i need to get to my family” with a silent curse, minjeong ripped off the wires attached to her body, throwing the equipment onto the floor as she attempted to stand up from the table.
at least she understood you.
“hey, hey- no, don’t stand up yet. you’re going to be a little dizzy, well not little, but you’re going to fall over” opening the airlocked door to the examination room, hastily, you came to the woman’s side, holding her frigid shoulders with one swift movement of your arm “let me at least get you a wheelchair, and maybe some clothes”
“that would be nice. this room is freezing cold” minjeong shuddered under the room's iced temperature. the AC was on full blast in the dead of the night for some reason.
“honestly, that might just be because you’ve woken up from being frozen. you're chilled to the bone” you guided minjeong outside the examination room with your arm wrapped around her shoulder. it was a futile attempt to transfer over your body heat to her freezing body, but it was better than nothing. you were desperate to help her combat the cold that seemed to have seeped into her very bones.
you led minjeong further into the facility, guiding her gently, but firmly, into the long deserted corridors. eventually, the two of you had walked long enough, coming across a familiar faint and eerie glow from the flickering blue fluorescent overhead lights. whilst walking, you and minjeong hadn’t uttered one word. just awkwardly clearing your throat from time to time as you attempted to pry your eyes away from minjeong, who had your lab coat draped around her shoulders. you couldn’t help but notice how vulnerable she looked; goosebumps covering her entire body, exhausted, somewhat distant.
finally, you had made it to your destination. a locker room, and the much more technically advanced ones too. with biometric scanners for locks, uniform compartments and protective equipment and gear. this one also had a private stall for showers in case of a sudden outbreak of… something? well, anything really. sometimes random liquids could splash all over you, or maybe you just fell in some dirt on the way here.
“let’s hope that there’s extra clothing somewhere” your hand slid across minjeong’s bare back as you parted from her body. quickly, with your handprint identification, the door slid right open, lights flickering and steam hissing as it exited the now opened room “oh, this steam is just for sterilisation purposes, no need to worry”
minjeong simply nodded her head, moving carefully inside the futuristic locker room. the door slid shut as you stepped inside with minjeong, comfortably undoing your top button with one hand “not much of a talker, are you? neither am i, guess i’ll make it a little less uncomfortable by talking outside my comfort zone.”
the younger womam once again nodded. she seemed a little stiff, but that was to be expected. new environment, no people around except for the two of you, a whole new world that she wasn’t familiar with, and to repeat it again, she was naked “i’ll introduce myself later when i find you something to wear. now… let’s see”
nothing other than a few crinkled lab coats here and there. of course you felt bad, minjeong was practically on the verge of becoming hypothermic. the AC didn’t help either, but you couldn’t turn that off for safety reasons. luckily for you, in your own locker - which you should have checked in the first place, had a few of your more casual clothes in there. just a plain black shirt and plain black pants “will this do?”
after what seemed like an excruciating prolonged silence, minjeong had finally spoken up with a hushed voice - most likely because she hadn’t talked properly for god knows how long “enough with the yapping. i need the money for my family. that’s why i went and got myself frozen in the first place”
how could you tell a vulnerable girl that her family was dead, and that she had been kept safe in the military for a millennia without freaking her out?
“that- i can’t do that” you chewed your lip nervously “see, you’re inside a military and science facility”
she tilts her head in a confused manner. it made no sense to her unless she was tricked into some sick experiment. she doubted you for a second, scoffing at your face until she realised that maybe you were right.
“so i’ve been tricked. is that what you’re implying? i’ve been tricked into becoming a test rat?”
to assume you were going to use her for tests so unethical like that was crazy. though, you understood why she would come to such a conclusion.
“absolutely not. i don’t know the full story of how we ended up with these pods in our care, nor do i know why yours happened to break during this night. it’s never happened before”
her slender arms folded across her chest, leaning back on the wall as she assessed your body language. it seemed like she was ready to pounce. given her height in comparison to yours, it somehow frightened you “how do i know you’re not lying to me?”
“cctv footage of me walking into the room you were unconscious in” you reply back immediately.
“you got me there”
“that i did. anyway, i can assure you that i have no ill intentions whatsoever, so don’t worry about anything for now.” you tossed her your clothes, turning your back around to respect her privacy, then pointing towards the shower room where she could freshen up. until you realised that maybe the shower was most likely foreign to her as well.
as much as you wanted to help, you pushed down the idea of doing so. that was until she called you for help.
since it was the year 30xx, showers might have undergone a few technological advances. from what you could remember from reading articles about old earth, maybe showers now hadn’t gone through much changes within the span of those long years.
“jesus christ, just- just tell me what button switches this thing on. why would you need a button for aromatherapy? or holographic images? what is that for anyway, porn in the shower?” minjeong was an amusing person for sure. her crude comment made you chuckle for the first time in a couple of days. she was quite the character for someone who had woken up a mere 45 minutes ago, already showing such a colourful personality.
“it’s to scroll through information that we could have possibly missed while showering, but maybe some people use it for pornographic content” you turned the metal knob around, much like how the showers functioned back in the 2000’s. minjeong thought that it would be a tad more complex than that, but the shower was straightforward. one thing about these showers was that it immediately set itself to spray warm water rather than having to wait for ot to heat it. ‘huh, perks of being inside a scientist facility’ is what minjeong thought.
“pornographic content you say?” she cackled, slipping your un-ironed lab coat off, the fabric pooling onto the floor as she stepped inside of the shower “you’re so formal”
you spin around as fast as possible, eyes darting up towards the ceiling as minjeong stripped herself from the only thing that covered her naked body “sorry. i don’t talk that often… or to many people. i can be less formal if you like?”
“do what you want” drops of water splashing on the hard surface of the acrylic tiles created a soothing symphony of sounds, minjeong’s soft humming mingling with the rhythmic pitter-patter, the steam that flowed out of the stall caressed around the room in a warm and enveloping cloud and the noises of wet linen sliding against minjeong’s dampened skin distracted you from breathing.
“is the temperature to your liking?”
“it is. the water feels good on my skin”
loosen up doc, why are you so stiff and awkward?
you, an introverted scientist who preferred the company of work rather than social interactions made it difficult for you to respond back to her. your mind raced with a multitude of different things to say, but to your avail, all you could do was stand frozen in place, feeling helpless and out of your depth. the thought of talking to her or saying something witty flew right out of the window, replaced by the overwhelming awkwardness that weighed you down as if you were carrying bricks on your shoulders. you wanted to say something, literally anything, but your mouth failed you.
“how long was i asleep for…?” the younger woman sounded much more vulnerable than before. that veil of bravery slipping off her lonesome facade as she knocked on the glass door of the shower “can’t be that long right? i mean, the company said 10 years more or less from what i remember”
it was a hard pill to swallow, but you were never one to sugarcoat over anything, especially when it came to situations like this - unless you were lying to the overseers.
“do you want the hard truth?” minjeong reluctantly nodded, but obviously you couldn’t see that since your back was facing her.
“is it that bad?” you finally turn around, reluctantly, as you swallow saliva harshly down your throat.
yes it was that bad.
making yourself comfortable, and also readying yourself for any potential outburst, you pressed your back onto the wall, leaning against its smooth surface “how should i say this… well, for starters, do you see anything in particular that catches your eyes?”
“don’t play mind games with me. hurry up and give me the truth.” albeit impatient, minjeong browsed around the room, her eyes locking onto some sort of device and you follow suit. ah, the biometric scanners “i… i’m guessing i’m- no, we’re in the near future”
“unfortunately, no… we’re about-” the next words were spoken under your breath in a calming manner to ensure minjeong wouldn’t freak the fuck out “about one thousand years into the future”
minjeong’s eyes widen momentarily, looking at you with nothing but pure disbelief “one- one thousand…?”
the poor girl laid her back flush against the wet wall and slid down until she sat on the soaked acrylic tiles. she looked dejected. her body curled into a ball as she hugged her legs close to her chest, softly whimpering - which eventually turned into a full on sob. it broke your heart to see her in so much pain, wailing away her sorrows while clutching onto the wall in an attempt to compose herself, but nothing worked.
so with haste, you made your way towards her, sliding away the glass door until you too were soaked underneath the warm spray of water, focus remaining solely on the sobbing woman huddled on the floor. you were never the one to comfort people, but for minjeong’s sake, you knelt down onto the ground, embracing her as she cried away the pain.
no words were exchanged between the two of you for a while. the both of you held each other dearly, until minjeong’s cries came to a halt “so that means my family… my family is gone…”
“i hate to be the bearer of bad news, but unfortunately yes… to my knowledge, humans don’t live for more than one thousand years” your futile attempts of comforting brought minjeong back into another fit of pain and denial. her dainty fingers clutched onto the back of your white buttoned up shirt, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as she began to sob once more.
“on the brightside, you- uh, you’re safe and sound here… i’d like to fill you up- i mean fill you in with what’s happened over the course of your millennia long sleep, but only if you’re ready” your brief and unnoticed mistake caused you to slap yourself around your face, mentally.
thankfully minjeong didn’t catch onto your mistake, instead, she buried her head further, holding you closer and closer to her body “sorry, i’m not good at comforting people…” she only gave a quick nod before leaning back, looking you up and down as you let the warm water cascade down your face, and also soaking the clothes you were wearing.
“where am i supposed to go now? my family is gone, it’s one thousand years into the the future and i’m not getting my money's worth—“
suddenly, minjeong was cut off by the loud blaring of an emergency siren, followed by the piercing screech that startled the two of you in the shower. sounds of metal groaning eventually coming to a stop until it sounded again. doors being pried open by what seems to be a grotesque amalgamation of flesh was shown on one of the cctv cameras. thankfully, the video was caught on the camera right inside one of the multiple hallways, now the image of the thing treading with unsettling movements throughout the facility was being displayed on the holographic screen inside of the shower “…what the hell is that thing?”
“a mutant…”
you shot up from where you knelt down, urgently pulling minjeong out from the shower. to your left was a button. the button in question being slammed by your fist locked the locker room with a series of steel shutters falling from the ceiling.
“here, wear the clothes i gave to you. i’ll… dry myself up” as you threw the pile of clothes in minjeong’s direction, you threw off your soaked clothes and dried them up almost instantly with one of the much larger contraptions in the far corner of the room. once they were done drying, and you were now fully dressed again, you searched around the room for a weapon to protect yourself from that thing that seemed to run, or well, slide at high speeds towards a lone soldier “aw fuck, there goes officer lee” minjeong followed the direction of where you threw your clothes and followed suit, drying herself up, which went rather fast.
the bloodied scream echoed throughout the empty facility in the most eerie way possible. the flesh creature seemed to have broken a few bones in the poor soldier's body as the cracks happened to leak through the thick walls of the room… which was fairly strange considering the walls were thick as hell. the poor man's screams must have been loud enough for him to be heard like that.
minjeong, having no clue as to what was going on, stood behind you as she stayed frozen in place. what she had just seen on the cctv footage was a mutant, one of the more dangerous looking ones as well.
it’s body was composed of multiple corpses pulsating together in one disgusting ball of flesh and broken bones. the way it moved was uncanny, how it glided over floors leaving trails of slick and blood wherever it moved. not only that, but it barely had a face. could you even call it a face at that point? it’s mouth was a combination of multiple mouths from the fallen bodies melting together. the thing didn’t have a nose, well it did, but it was just two holes on it’s supposed ’face’. as for the eyes… it’s eyes were scattered all over it’s body. and if we were talking about limbs, you could say it had none, since they were all collectively melded together.
in one of the unlocked lockers was a new and improved weapon, a simple rifle that was kept solely for emergencies like these. unfortunately you were never the one to hold such weapons since this was completely out of your field, but minjeong, oh god, the woman took the gun out of your hands and held it with such precision that it rendered you speechless. she had the stance of a soldier, holding the gun in such a way that it impressed you given the fact that she was still adapting to a new world “what’s that thing's weak point?”
“don’t tell me you’re gonna shoot the damn thing with that gun?” you turn your head towards her, fascinated at her bravery.
“it beats letting it roam free”
“doesn’t have a weak point… it’s best if you incinerate it. since it looks like it’s a cluster of living people, i’m assuming it has multiple hearts and multiple organs” to your knowledge, the laboratory you work in holds a plasma gun, strong enough to melt its target “it would be risky to even leave this room right now. we need to stay put and-“
emergency alarms screeched throughout the locker room. lights flashed red as the damn mutant was prying itself through the tough steel that was keeping you two safe “fuck- get behind me” minjeong yelled, taking a step in front of you as she cocked the rifle, waiting for the moment the creature decided to slip inside the large gash in the wall.
you decided to stay quiet, watching as the thing squeezed itself through the cracks. although the creature was solid, the thing forced itself through the cracks, it’s body moved like liquid until it reformed back into its unnatural state. you’ve never ever seen such motion in a mutant before, and it was very worth studying for later breaches like this.
its body stretched upwards, sizing up the two of you as it readied its deformed mouth, unhinging its so-called jaw as if it was ready to engulf its prey.
minjeong ever so swiftly shot inside its mouth, rendering the mutant stunned for a couple of seconds. she took this time to escape with you, dragging your arm as you both ran down the long corridors “we need to get to my lab. there’s a plasma rifle somewhere in there. i-it’s probably our only chance of ridding ourselves from this thing”
“then lead the way”
body overrun with adrenaline, you ran for your life, swerving through corridor to corridor as the mutant chased behind you and minjeong. it’s erratic movement really threw you off. one moment the damn thing is on the ground, next thing you know and it’s sliding up and down the walls, trying to block off your exits.
finally, god- finally, you and minjeong made it towards the lab, losing the mutant for now. as you slam your fist onto a large red button, thicker sheets of metal slid down from the ceiling, sort of protecting you from the creature.
you laid flat on the floor, catching your breath, chest heaving up and down as you groggily looked towards minjeong who seemed completely fine. what was she? some kind of superhuman? minjeong stood her ground right in front of the door, checking if the mutant was about to break through the tough steel with its enormous body. and thankfully, a few minutes go by without a peep from outside.
“where’s that gun you were talking about?” still laying flat against the ground, you point towards a sleek black case on a desk right behind you.
“t-there… it’s in there” minjeong casually tiptoed her way towards the table, quiet enough so that the mutant that could potentially be outside couldn’t hear. with two hands carefully placed on each side of the case, she unclasped it slowly. the case opened with a click.
and there it was in all its glory. newly made, recently tested and proven its worth - a plasma rifle that was millions better than its previous models “does it work like a regular rifle?” as she picked the rifle up in her hands, she held her breath, observing the cold and smooth material. it seemed to hum with otherworldly energy, its alien technology unfamiliar to her felt terrifying yet thrilling.
“uh, yes? if you’re referring to the ones used back then, maybe no…?” after being glued onto the floor for god knows how long, you finally stand up with wobbly legs, stabilising yourself on a desk right besides you “well it’s got the trigger and everything else a rifle would need, so… i think it works the same! i-i don’t know. maybe test it out?”
“if i shoot it wrong, this is your fault”
minjeong slammed the button right beside the door, retracting the metal walls back into the ceiling. the cluttering caught the attention of the creature nearby, its body hurtling itself towards the sound. it moved at a disgustingly high velocity, the sheer force of its massive body colliding into the walls boomed throughout the facility as it couldn’t even keep up with its own speed.
the younger woman slowed down her breathing, focused solely on the mutant hurtling towards her direction. with unbreaking precision, minjeong quickly pulled the trigger.
after a few seconds, the creature bursted through the metal doors with a deafening roar. at this point, you thought you were about to die a horrible death. that was until you saw a bright indigo beam shoot right through the mutant’s body.
another beam was fired. then another beam, and another for good measure. multiple beams were shot into different parts of the things body. its bloodcurdling scream rang into your ears, causing you to momentarily become deaf. it screeched, wailed and flopped around until it finally came to a stop, becoming a heap of melted flesh and blood on the ground.
“what kind of future is this? minjeong’s breath wavered, staring directly at the gross, melted and burnt corpse, or well, corpses on the floor. she kicked it’s remains, the frail thing still sizzling away from the intense heat it just took in every vital part of its body.
“not a fun and bright one”
-
what seemed to be a long walk within the facility; flickering fluorescent lights illuminating your way towards the military’s housing units, you had explained what had happened in the past thousand years.
long story short, the world had been plunged into chaos when a nuclear war broke out. it all began with a world leader becoming unhinged and issuing threats to other countries, which quickly spiralled into World War Ill. in the years that followed after the catastrophe, the radiation from the bombs and the fallout continued to mess with the environment and society, turning things into radioactive sludge or infecting more than half of the population. this led to the military, in multiple different countries, to seize control and impose martial law. with their power, they prioritised scientific progress and advancements, hence why the scientists work so closely with the military… even though it seems as if the south korean military have recently been straying away from their main goals in the past few years.
“so, that thing that chased us down… did it, or did it not have a consciousness?” you didn’t have a definite answer to her question. it could have, it couldn't have. you couldn’t know for sure, and it would stay that way due to the fact that the mutant was already dead.
“can’t say for sure. but for my sanity and yours, i’ll say no” as you two continued to chat away, you stayed vigilant, scanning the surroundings for potential security threats. a soldier could walk past, security footage could be captured of you two and you didn’t like the thought of being caught with a person of the past, especially since you were treading around science and military ground.
every corner and hallway presented a new opportunity for someone to spot minjeong, so you kept your pace quick and light, opting to stay in the shadows rather than walking into the more brightly lit areas, or open spaces that could be monitored by the cctv cameras. despite your efforts, you still felt as though something, or someone, was watching you closely.
eventually the two of you made it back to your assigned room in the middle of the night. the door slid open as soon as you scanned your hand print, the same sterilised steam enveloped yours and minjeong’s body as you stepped inside your bleak grey room.
“make yourself comfortable” you say, stripping off your worn out lab coat, dumping the poor old fabric somewhere in the corner of your neglected room. settling down into the chair in front of your desk, you gesture for minjeong to step inside. the air was slightly dry, a reminder of how little you spent your time in the tight quarters the scientists called ‘home’.
“it’s a little… ahem- bland in here” she coughed out, wafting around her hand to circulate some air. she sat down on the grey mattress, sinking into the sort of dense material of your double bed. the poor thing had been left for god knows how long, evidently shown by a thin layer of dust having formed on every surface possible. there was no life in your so called bedroom, no pictures, no sense of personality whatsoever.
“i don’t spend a lot of time in here” you confess, taking out your slightly outdated laptop and turning the alien looking technology - from minjeong’s perspective, at least, from one of the empty storage boxes to your right.
“yeah. i can see clearly” her delicate fingers ran across the top of your beds headboard, collecting the dust underneath her fingertips “you seem like the person to sleep in a laboratory” scanning at your dishevelled appearance with a keen eye.
adjusting the screen of your laptop, you chuckle dryly “perceptive much” on some occasions, yes, you did tend to fall asleep on your desk, maybe even drool a little too. after all, you were basically up all night since the day you were assigned to this specific position given to you from one of the higher ups “and yeah, i have”
for other reasons you didn’t stay inside your own room. there were many explanations as to why; the room was a shockingly low temperature, the walls were surprisingly thin considering that the entire facility’s walls were made out of thick sheets of metal - and god, hearing the snores of over a hundred people, all collectively inharmonious and unbearably loud in a single night can drive a person off the walls.
so, if not for the room, where did you stay?
“i actually have another place. somewhere far out, that’s why it’s so dusty in here” minjeong hums, finally resting her weary body on the unused sheets. it was a long day, ironically. waking up from a deep sleep, to then take another after something rather traumatising happened not too long ago. she needed some shut eye.
“you still haven’t told me your name yet”
you reply almost instantly without looking at minjeong, fingers dancing across the keyboard as you began to write “it’s doctor kwon y/n. call me whatever you want”
“alright, doc” how cute.
personal log: no. 236
two interesting things happened over the course of this night.
one. a young woman called kim minjeong woke up from the cryogenic pods in section 02. don’t really know how that happened. the machine broke and it’s glass was shattered all over the damn floors, and the liquid was pooling everywhere…
poor girl was on the brink of permanent freezing, thank god i was there. from my understanding, and from lurking through the database, nothing like this had ever happened before. it was truly fascinating… studying her body like that. it’s not everyday that you see a living and breathing relic from one thousand years ago.
two. a weird mutant breached through the facility's walls. definitely need to talk to one of the higher ups about this in the morning.
lord, i mean the thing was disgusting. never seen a mutant like that before… it was moving so strange and so inhuman. like regular human mutants are, on most occasions, bipedal, but this thick fuck moved as if it was living slime. it had no damn legs?
not only that, but it’s whole body was composed of multiple mutant humans. anyway, one thing that stuck out was the way it seeped through the gap in the wall. how do i explain this? well for starters, it shaped itself and moved like liquid, and fuck? it can stick onto walls and run, no, slide at an alarming speed.
it’s best if i study both that mutant and minjeong.
signing off.
kwon [redacted].
date: 16/01/xxxx
concentrated on your next task of filing an incident report to send in for the morning, you failed to notice the soft sobs from the younger woman laid flat on your bed. as minjeong clutched the thin blanket, her face pressed against the dense pillow, she tried her very best to hold in the tears left from earlier inside the shower. after the events that took place a few minutes ago, she was subjected to her own thoughts once again. her family, friends, colleagues and the people of the past were all gone.
a distant memory…
seriously though. how could you make her feel better about a situation like this? many thoughts racked in that smart brain of yours, but none of them seemed good enough to comfort someone who was mourning the loss of multiple long gone lives. the only option left was to comfort her physically, which wasn’t your forte.
so, having to take a quick shower, scrubbing down your body head to toe so you don’t smell like sweat and coffee, you leave the bathroom with a thin veil of mist trailing behind. the immediate transition from the cosy warmth of the shower to the biting cold of your bedroom left goosebumps on your skin.
minjeong, who’s eyes were red from all the crying, looked up at you curiously “are you seriously going to sleep next to me?”
“i mean, it’s my bed. plus, i don’t know how to comfort you, so this is my best attempt at it” minjeong simply huffed, moving aside the blanket to fit you right next to her.
taking up her invitation, you awkwardly shuffle into your bed despite it being your own. the rustling of your clothes, the soft breathing coming from minjeong, and the heat radiating off her body brought more tension to the room, more than you were used to. you wondered if sleeping next to her was making her feel less lonely, but really, the whole thing was a stupid idea.
on the inside you were panicking, keeping up a calm and collected facade whilst you discarded one thought for another terrible one. she was alone in a new world, and you wanted to at least alleviate the emptiness she was experiencing, but how? a hand rested on minjeong’s shoulder, squeezing it in a way to somehow console the poor woman.
“i know you’re feeling an unexplainable amount of pain, however-” not to sound like a broken record, but again, you were never the best at comforting people. besides the point, you had to try either way, and thankfully your knowledge and studies surrounding neurosciences helped massively “did you know that, uh- that there’s various chemicals that can reduce stress and are associated with positive emotions”
minjeong’s curiosity piqued, listening intently as she still sniffled time to time while she stayed wrapped in your blanket on her now claimed side of the bed.
“dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin. those are the three feel good hormones that are released during… certain activities”
besides the obvious implications, minjeong tilted her head in a way that made your heart skip. she seemed so vulnerable, too much for your poor heart to take. it took her a while to understand what you were hinting at, but she eventually got the memo as you continued to explain what you were referring to with a flustered expression, hiding behind the blankets as if it minjeong was the one to bring it up first.
“what?” she chuckled at your beet red face “don’t get all shy now. you suggested it”
“no, no i didn’t suggest anything. i-i was only just informing you about it since you were clearly upset, and i wanted to see if you would want to try since i couldn’t figure out another way for you to feel better…” in all honesty, there were much better ways to go around this situation. maybe offering minjeong the money she was promised, but then again, where would she use the money “okay, maybe i was suggesting it. but we don’t need to do anything that makes you uncomfortable-“
“i’ve got nothing to lose anyway. sure, let’s do it” despite her strained voice due to her sobs, her softly spoken confidence impressed you “i might as well take up the offer anyway. take my mind off what’s happened since i woke up i guess…”
a lump formed in your throat.
“wait, what?”
to say you were shocked was an understatement.
“oh come on, you suggested it. don’t tell me you’re going to back up now, damn” minjeong seemed to be looking forward to this, but god would she be disappointed if she found out you were a virgin “unless. don’t tell me you’re a…”
“what? no, it’s not like- well it is like that. see i don’t have the time for all that stuff you know. i’ve been studying and working almost all my life” you confess with a hint of embarrassment.
“jesus christ” in a way, minjeong was slightly frustrated, but it couldn't be helped. though, she found it rather amusing how easily you say things without considering to stop and think “it’s like you’re trying to blue ball me. i was expecting a little something from you, doc”
“then what can i possibly do with little expertise? i’m not going to dive in head first into some uncharted territory, minjeong”
“why do you make it sound like it’s so complicated? ‘uncharted territory’… doc, i’m sure you’ll be alright” minjeong gave you a reassuring smile - a genuine one too, slowly peeling away the thin blanket from her clothed body.
sex really wasn’t often the main focus in your life. every time you had such thoughts, you’d push them into the deepest parts of your mind, allowing yourself to focus on much more important and pressing matters. maybe this is why you never had many close friends as well. always pushing them away in favour of continuing your research and studies. but now was your chance to try something you’ve never done before.
…and you were about to have sex with minjeong, who seemed to have caught your attention a little too much.
“i’ll try my best”
first of all, was it you topping her or vice versa? given what you had said earlier, it was most likely you doing all the work. after all, you were the one to lightly hint at it.
if you could, you would’ve looked up on how to ‘initiate sexual intercourse in the least awkward way possible’, but alas, it was too late for your poor self—
“don’t keep me waiting, doc” without hesitation, minjeong took off the shirt you lent, throwing the balled up fabric mindlessly in some neglected corner once she had straddled your thigh “someones gotta help me release those feel good hormones, or whatever you said earlier” with the absence of her shirt, her tits were exposed to the cold air. her pretty pink and puffy nipples out for you to ogle at. shit.
you didn’t exactly know where to look, nor what to do. the added pressure of minjeong’s body trapping you between her small body and your dense bed had rendered you speechless. so this was step one, what comes next. from what you had overheard in a colleagues conversation, the next step would be to maybe kiss her? or would it be to touch her body?
your hands seemed to stutter as you carefully hovered your clammy palms above minjeong’s chest. a part of you wanted to go for it immediately, this was of course your first time anyway. but another part in you held back. it was nerve racking to say the least.
minjeong stared at you with doe like eyes, anticipating for what comes next. although it took you quite a while to figure out what part comes first, then what part comes after the first part and so forth “my god. just touch me, damn” she huffed, grabbing your hand and pressing your palm flat against her tits.
at a loss of words, you froze for a good few seconds before feeling your face immediately heat up. your eyes flicked down from where she had placed your hand then back to her face, then back down again. certain things had a set way of executing stuff, so to have your hand cupped against her chest was surprising, yet not unwelcomed at all. just… it kind of threw you off guard. you thought you should have kissed her first before anything really.
“s-shouldn’t i kiss you, then place my hand on your boobs?” you admit, you sounded like an absolute buffoon in front of her, but hey, not your fault for thinking that there was an order you should follow.
minjeong simply scoffed “pft- no? i’m no prude. but if you want that, then go ahead. come and kiss me” before you knew it, minjeong pulled you upwards, throwing her arms around your shoulders. for her height and size, she was surprisingly kind of strong.
“wait, i don’t know how to do that either” you were too nervous to even think about kissing her, the thought alone made you flustered beyond belief. however, too afraid to disappoint her, inch by inch, you came closer to her face, her hot breath fanning against your quivering lips.
it should’ve been you doing all that work, not minjeong manoeuvring you to her will. you were supposed to be the one to take control instead of her. but besides that, you strengthened your resolve, shaking off the anxiety that caused you to behave like a wuss, which was in fact not like you at all. much like the movies you watched, you shut your eyes as you closed the gap between you and minjeong. for a brief second minjeong hesitated, but with time, the two of you shared a rather delicate and sweet kiss.
“was… was that okay?” it was a quick and innocent peck on her lips. minjeong chuckled, stroking your jaw with her hand before tilting your head to the side by your chin.
“how about you follow my lead instead” thumb resting on top of your lower lip, minjeong parted your mouth open. leading from where you stopped, minjeong kisses you slow and soft, savouring the taste of your lips. she caught your bottom lip in her teeth ever so gently, moving towards you again to kiss you with a much needed intensity this time. your hand was still rested on her chest, clearly not knowing exactly what to do with them. noticing this, minjeong guides your hands, squeezing her hand around yours to mimic the action of you doing it to her.
the contact alone made you groan. her boobs were nice and soft, modest, but they fit perfectly in the palm of your hands. the sensation they provided was so much more better than you had ever imagined. and without guide from minjeong, your hands instinctively moved across her body; drawing circles on her back, sliding your hands up and down the sides of her body, occasionally coming back up to her boobs to tease her sensitive nipples all while you let her savour your lips.
minjeong momentarily pulled away, stroking a few strands of hair away from your face “that’s it doc… just like that” her approval felt great to hear, made you more motivated, more confident in your actions “shit… mhm…” she groaned against your lips, pressing herself against your thigh as she rocked her hips back and forth.
this kiss gradually turned passionate. with you not knowing how or what to do, your teeth had accidentally clashed into hers briefly, but that didn’t deter her from carrying on. minjeong felt the need to take more from you, eagerly pushing her tongue inside your mouth to deepen this kiss, which in return, had you whipering pathetically. minjeong thought that your reaction was utterly adorable; she needed to hear more of those sounds.
upon your reaction, you pushed minjeong back a little. what came out of your mouth was entirely unexpected, and it kind of shocked you at how submissive you really did sound “s-sorry… it felt a little weird. but not a bad weird, you know. more like a, uh, tingly sensation”
“that usually means that what i’m doing is good. i take pride in my kissing skills thank you very much” despite the view in front of you, you couldn’t take your mind off of something else. between her thighs was a slightly damp sensation right on top of your own thigh. a small grin, a rather mischievous one, played across her face, giving her the expression of someone who had something up their sleeve.
whatever she was doing right now in the moment already had you a mess. what she had in mind would most likely have you confused, aroused, but definitely lost.
“move your hand down” she commanded. minjeong didn’t like to play around, always the type of girl to get what she wanted. you didn’t know that of course, but whatever, you obeyed anyway.
extremely hot and slippery was the only way you could describe what you felt in her lower regions. curious as ever, your fingers explored her covered pussy as if you hadn’t touched one before, because you haven’t. even though your touch was as light as a feather, the volume of her moans that fell from her lips sent your body into a temporary freeze. it was okay, you were okay. more than okay really. you were ecstatic.
honestly, you thanked yourself for turning off the bedside lamp. if it wasn’t for your hatred of a single shred of light whilst you were sleeping, minjeong would have seen your joyous smile in its full glory. now you were riled up, and it was evident in the way you glided your finger up and down her slit, her wetness clinging to your skin, enveloping them in a sticky warm mess.
it wasn’t like you to become so easily obsessed with something so quickly, but the way minjeong rolled her hips as soon as your fingers made contact with her throbbing heat had your head spinning around in circles “fuck— you said you were inexperienced doc. what’s with the sudden boost of confidence”
you didn’t quite understand it yourself, but there was something enchanting about minjeong. kind of like how sirens would lure their prey in with their looks, or their voices. either way, the comparison made sense in your head. she was naturally alluring, and it seemed like she knew about that “don’t know” you muttered, fingers pressing against a certain spot that piqued your curiosity “maybe it’s the fact that i’m interested in your body. it feels good to touch you down here specifically… it’s throbbing”
“my clit?” a smirk played on her lips, slowly grinding her swollen clit against the tips of your fingers, much like she was doing previously on your thigh.
“clitoris is the right term” after correcting her, you were too focused on the rolling of her hips to notice that you groaned out loud. and as a response, minjeong chuckled.
“you’re so unsexy. just use the word clit” her attitude prompted you to roll your eyes in slight annoyance.
“alright then. your clit is throbbing. was that any better?” all while you bickered with minjeong, your fingers never stopped moving, and neither did her hips. eventually the thin layer of cloth that kept you away from touching her directly, was moved aside by your hurried hand “you know what. just take of your pants”
“i’ll do you one better” her weight shifted off your body for a while as she fumbled with taking off the pajama pants you lent her. shortly after she threw the item of clothing next to the shirt she dumped off into the corner, her panties followed straight after. once again, minjeong was completely naked, and above you, straddling your hips with that grin she had that left you in a hot mess “i think you should use that mouth of yours” she spoke low, shuffling over to hover above your face with both of her thighs placed comfortably on each side of your head. her glistening pussy was right in your field of view, and frankly, you couldn’t fathom what was about to happen next. to answer her question, you simply hummed, caressing her thighs in languid strokes.
“what if i suck at this though?” there was a hint of insecurity in your tone, but minjeong was confidently sure that you were able to please her well enough. she trusted her intuition, and hoped you wouldn’t disappoint.
“i doubt. all you have to do is suck, lick, kiss and maybe even use your fingers if you’re feeling frisky. you’ll be fine” you weren’t fine. that sudden boost of confidence didn’t last long enough for you to do something as wild as this. yet you found yourself instinctively darting your tongue out with a subtle nod, inviting minjeong to take a seat on your face “eager aren’t you… just keep your tongue out like that for me doc”
time seemed to slow down once her soaked pussy made contact with your tongue, and my god did she taste divine. at this point you could feel your own heartbeat pounding in your chest and your mind filled with nothing but a need to pleasure the lonesome woman that sat right on top of your mouth, gyrating her hips to her desired speed.
it started off as minjeong simply using your mouth to get herself off, but you couldn’t bear not to do something to help her out. as she said a few minutes ago, you planted your lips on her heat, a few kitten licks around minjeong’s aching pussy, feeling around her dripping folds as you hummed in satisfaction as a response to her flavour “ah… that feels— fuck, that feels good. keep going, you’re doing amazing” continuing to lap around her folds, tasting the sweet and warm essence that dripped from her hole all the way down to your chin as you greedily chased it with your tongue, minjeong squirmed her body around in ecstasy; a tight grip on the headboard turned her knuckles white from the overwhelming force. a means to ground herself.
“s-shit… focus more on my clit, please” you obliged almost immediately, shifting focus on where she needed it the most. sliding your tongue from her lips all the way up to her overly sensitive clit, you gave her a quick suck, just as she had mentioned, earning a light moan that sent shivers down your spine. the more you brushed over with your tongue, the more minjeong whined and whimpered.
each moan that rolled from her lips encouraged you to increase the delicious friction your mouth could only provide “mhm, that’s it doc… keep sucking my clit like that…”
crude as it was, and how much those words affected you; after all, your eyes rolled as she moaned those words out with a breathy sigh, you began to lap around with hunger as if you had an appetite that couldn’t be satiated.
words muffled against the heat of her mound, you spoke after a long while of staying silent - since your focus was directed towards satisfying her needs “mmm, like this?”
you couldn’t see her nodding her head, but with the way she let out those decadent moans of hers, it was clear that she was enjoying the moment.
for some reason you decided this alone wasn’t enough for the grieving woman, so with your new found knowledge in terms of sex, your hand made way towards her slit, massaging her folds with your middle and index finger.
again with the frantic nodding. minjeong felt like she was enveloped in total bliss, forgetting about the people in the past and focusing on your fingers pushing inside her tight pussy “hhng… fuck. your fingers are so- they’re so long”
minjeong’s fleshy walls clenched around your fingers, practically trapping you there. it was hard to explore around with how tight she was, but eventually, as you started to feel around with your two fingers, stretching minjeong’s tight and pretty pussy, your ability to comfortably push in and out of her hole became much more easier.
with your lips closing around her clit, fingers pumping in and out with fervour; so fast, and rough that it was hard to believe that you were a virgin with absolutely no experience with sex whatsoever, made minjeong shamelessly moan your name for the first time ever.
“my god… oh my god, y/n. you’re so fucking good at this” a familiar tightness formed in the pit of minjeong’s stomach; a coil that was about to break from the sheer amount of pleasure jolting through her entire body. out of nowhere, you slammed the palm of your hand against her skin, fingers hitting her g-spot in rhythmic thrusts.
“is this spot good? does it hurt?” you were a tad worried about minjeong. the poor woman couldn’t usher out a sentence with how much she was feeling. the stimulation on her hardened clit, your fingers hitting every single spot that she couldn’t do herself, your muffled groans and sighs as your mouth paid special attention to her sensitive parts. it made her lose her mind.
to answer your question, minjeong whined out an almost inaudible “no”. her legs squeezed around your head as a way to tell you not to stop, to keep up what you were doing until she was satisfied. but with her legs trapping you between her thighs, you couldn’t properly breathe. did that stop her? no it didn’t. and did it stop you? absolutely not. you were determined to bring her to her edge; sucking, licking, kissing against her overly sensitive clit while your weary fingers kept on pounding relentlessly inside of her.
after what felt like an eternity, minjeong fell silent for a good couple of seconds before chanting your name out like a mantra “y/n… oh my fucking god, y/n- i’m.. i’m gonna cum. a-ah… fuck, i’m gonna cum-“ her hands that gripped onto the headboard immediately tangled themselves in your hair, pushing your head upwards and into her pussy as she convulsed on top of you. as she came, her thighs clamped down on the sides of your head and you swore you could’ve heard your jaw popping out of place from the pressure.
“haa… mmm… y/n~” she whined, languidly rocking her hips against your fingers and tongue as she rode out her intense high.
a few moments of silence went by. minjeong eventually stopped in her tracks and dropped onto your mattress right next to your body “m-minjeong?” you tapped her face. she wasn’t responding “hey, minjeong?” you checked her pulse, her breathing and everything until you came to the conclusion that she had passed out from both exhaustion and from her orgasm.
you snapped out of your haze, wiped her juices of your face and chin after you had tasted it once again. what an unforgettable flavour.
fatigue now coursing through your own body, you had to get up and do something urgent first before your tired body eventually stopped moving. rustling around in your bedside drawer, you pull out a packaged syringe and an empty tube “don’t wake up. please…” with one hand wrapped around minjeong’s upper arm, slightly cutting off her blood circulation, her veins began to protrude, allowing you to safely insert the needle into one of the more prominent looking veins.
you could’ve honestly asked her about taking a sample of her blood when she was conscious, but you figured out that she might have grown suspicious as to why.
lets just say that your personal and private work wasn’t ethical. and for that reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell minjeong what you were going to plan to do with that sample of her blood if she ever asked.
morning came by quickly.
unfortunately the sun didn’t shine through your windows as your room was basically a metal box composed with a bed, a desk, a chair and a closet. every morning here in the facility was so bland and boring. highly depressing too. imagine waking up almost every day here. you’re surprised none of the scientists were sick of it.
but anyway. you knew it was early morning since your alarm clock woke you up from a strange dream, and how you heard the chatter of many scientists walk past your room's door.
you turn your head to the side, expecting minjeong to be gone, but she was still there, chest rising up and down as she breathed softly in your bed.
taking the time to freshen up from the activities the two of you shared a hours ago; you take a quick shower, brushed your teeth and hair, threw on a clean pair of clothes and a newly ironed lab coat to get ready for another excruciatingly boring day in the laboratory. but before you decided to wake minjeong up, you needed to file that incident report.
incident report form
date of report: 17/01/30xx
full name: kwon y/n
person(s) involved: 2
location: section 02 to 03 of the science department.
time: 12:36am
describe the incident: new mutant species, possibly class A, broke into facility 03 and chased me until i reached laboratory 0201 in section 02. used the untested plasma rifle to exterminate said mutant.
mutant species seems to be a combination of multiple human mutants, and has multiple vital points in its body. runs at high speeds, can break through metal with ease, can squeeze into smaller cracks and holes without damaging its body.
unfortunately the cctv cameras briefly caught the mutant on tape.
was anyone injured?: yes.
if yes, describe the injuries: soldier patrolling around section 03 had broken limbs. was consumed by the mutant shortly after. no remains left at the scene.
were there any witnesses to the incident?: no
minjeong stirred awake shortly after you sent in the report. there was a stinging sensation in her left arm, but she paid no mind to it. maybe it was because of how intense the night was that her body was aching everywhere.
“good morning” you yawn, swivelling around the seat as you face minjeong. you chuckle at her appearance; her hair messy, tired eyes and naked with the blanket draped around her small shoulders “you woke up just in time. i finished writing the incident report and the overseers emailed me immediately after”
half asleep, minjeong hummed and tucked herself underneath the blanket “mmm… what did they say?” she spoke in a gravelly manner, which was to be expected since she had just woken up.
“they said i can take the day off. only thing is, i can’t leave you here. so you’re coming with me” your words didn’t register in minjeong’s sleepy mind. she only responded with another hum before rolling over onto her tummy, closing her eyes “no seriously. you can’t be left alone here. i don’t want anyone finding you outside of your pod”
“mmfh… okay~”
it took a while for minjeong to fully wake up and get dressed, but after she was done tying her shoe laces, you briefly explained how you were going to leave the facility undetected “the scientists don’t usually leave the labs until it’s lunch time, so we’ll use that to our advantage” most of your colleagues stayed put in their stations, slaving away until they were tired and needed a well deserved break whenever they needed one, unless one of the overseers tells them to get back to their research “usually i hitch a ride whenever i enter the city. a bunch of locals i’ve made acquaintances with take me to where i need to go if i don’t have a car. so really, the only issue we have is that i need to get you out of here without people getting suspicious”
“or maybe i could pose as a scientist. or maybe a soldier that’s guiding you towards the city for research purposes” minjeong suggested. to be honest, that was a good idea. the military inside the facility didn’t really care all too much about scientists anyway. and also you were trusted amongst your peers and the rest of the military. that trust enabled you to roam feeling within and outside the building. in the case you needed an assistant scientist with you, they would need an ID.
“actually yeah. that’ll work. means we don’t need to sneak around the place then” you toss minjeong a lab coat and a spare fake id you had rotting away in your dusty drawer just in case a situation like this would occur.
and with that, you two were set to go.
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a/n: if you spot any mistakes pls tell me 😭 i did read through the fic this time so i’m hoping there’s none… and if there is i’m going to kms </3
TAGLIST (open):
@jade-jini @yeetaberry127 @keervah @aespasoooool @1luvkarina @bitchiswild @masterfvck @myouicieloz @sseulforgii @rinapomu @saysirhc @yuyuy90
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unlosts · 2 days
Text
two slow dancers, last ones out
Summary: Unrequited love and a wedding are not a good match, but a luckily you have someone there to keep you company.
2k words
The wedding fell into place like a house of cards tumbling down, in a rush and without much fanfare. JJs dress was lovely, because of course it was, a sea of ivory white twinkling almost as bright as her smile against the placid night air. Everyone was able to make it and despite it being planned with just a few hours to spare the night was as beautiful as one would hope. Beginning of spring ushering a new chapter and all that nonsense. 
Not that you were bitter about it. 
At all. 
Or at the very least you were trying really hard not to be, because they were a lovely couple. Will loved JJ, and JJ loved Will. 
The issue was that Spencer also seemed to love JJ. 
Again, not that you were bitter about it. 
After months of quiet pinning and frustrated yet unreciprocated glances you had called it quits, because it seemed like no matter how many 18th century poetry readings you attended with him, no matter how many early morning car rides or late nights spent talking in hushed tones side by side on the plane, you were simply never going to be the one he wanted. 
And you had come to terms with it. 
Really. 
The fresh heartbreak had been ushered out and been replaced by humiliation a long time ago, looking back you were sure everyone could tell how stupidly in love you had been and how utterly un-reciprocated it was. Every time you remembered how optimistic and doe eyed you had been about the whole thing, something bright and hot burned in the back of your eyes. It was all just so painfully juvenile and you swore you had left the doe eyes behind alongside your cheer uniform and locker combination. 
The night had an air of finality to it, you knew that in one way or another nothing would be the same again, and you didn’t want to miss it. Even if it meant swallowing your pride and staying with the wallflowers until closing time. 
It would have been easier to do an irish goodbye to the italian planned wedding and slip quietly out the front door but you saw Emily sharing a last dance with Derek and even spied Rossi watching over his hard word with suspiciously misty eyes and you knew you had to stay. 
With one hand wrapped over your midriff and the other held aloft, nursing a now lukewarm aperol spritz by the side of the dance floor, looking at everyone swaying to some old jazz ballad, the singer's soft crooning voice setting your teeth on edge. The feel of a drop of condensation traveling from  your hand through your forearm sending a chill down your spine. 
The gentle weight of a black jacket being draped over your shoulders snaps you out of your pathetic melancholy, the wedding suddenly snapping into sharp focus as the heady scent of a woody cologne blankets you. Two big hands softly squeeze your shoulders in a silent apology before Aaron Hotchner appears next to you, leaning against one of the white columns with his hands in his pockets. 
He scrutinizes you with clever brown eyes, his gaze softly traveling from your pursed lips to your down-turned brows and you know he’s got your number when he gives you a soft sympathetic smile. Just a quick turn of his lips that few people would catch, but you did, and the knowledge that he knows exactly what’s going on through your head makes you feel exposed all of the sudden, you slip your arms into the jack and clutch it to you like it could keep you hidden. 
But Hotch is … Hotch simply put and you know above all he would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. So he remains quiet next to you, only moving to press his side against you in silent comradery, the comforting heat radiating off of him seeping into you.  
“Want me to get you another one?” He asks, gesturing to your long forgotten drink. “It’s not often we get to free reign of Dave’s stash” You know he’s trying to cheer you up and you both know it’s failing miserably but you still appreciate the effort nonetheless. 
An awkward sort of silence falls between you both until you decide to ruin it, apparently. 
“So, where’s Beth?” Your question catches him off guard, he clears his throat and looks down for a second before catching your eyes. 
“We broke up, last week actually” He states matter of fact. You nod understandingly and don’t ask but he clarifies anyhow. 
“It was mutual, she had a lot going on at work-”
“Huh, go figure”
“and I was” he hesitates “preoccupied” He doesn’t seem to be distraught, telling you like he would the details of a case, objective and to the point. 
“Ahh, so you decided to join the singles corner, welcome we meet every Thursday” You raise your glass in a mock toast before finally putting it down on a nearby table. 
Hotch raises his eyebrows and it’s all it takes for you to deflate. 
“Sorry, you were being nice and I was just bitchy” You sigh, frustrated and maybe a little bit tipsier than you’d like. 
“That’s okay, you’re sad, it happens to the best of us”
“Even you?” 
He just lets out a self deprecating laugh before handing you a glass of scotch from a passing waiter. 
“You saw me after the divorce, I distinctly remember going into a burning house so I would say a couple of drinks more than you’re used to at a wedding of all places isn’t the worst way to go about it” 
“That’s different, you were married this is just…pathetic” There was no point dancing around it anyway, you both knew he was fully aware of what you were talking about. 
“Well someone once told me that as much as we’d like to, sometimes we have to sit in those feelings before they can go away” 
“What a load of new age shit, whoever told you that was a quack” You smile at him anyway, pleased that even after all this time he remembered that. 
“Hmm, I happen to think it was useful,” Hotch replies, taking the scotch from your hand and finishing it off. 
“Any more pearls of wisdom this oh so sage one imparted upon you?”
“Yes, other times the only thing you can do is pretend that everything is alright for a couple of minutes” He says, extending his hand towards you and gesturing towards the dance floor “what do you say?” 
“You should stop listening to her” You reply but still accept, his hand engulfing yours as he expertly leads you through a sea of couples until you’re far enough that you can’t really see anyone else from your team. 
He takes you into his arms, one goes to your back and the other takes you hand into his ,you're still wearing his jacket so you just rest your head against his chest and close your eyes. 
“...so” You say softly, your words muffled against his shirt. With your eyes closed and your head resting against his chest, you’ve given up dancing and are just content to be cocooned in his arms while he gently sways you both to the tune of the music. Whatever is playing now has long faded to the edge of your conscience, sounding far away. 
“Have you ever considered doing all of this again?” 
“Getting married?” This close together his voice reverberates pleasantly through your whole body, it feels as if you’ve both stepped into someone else’s wedding and you know each other here. 
“Yeah”
“What, you had your turn in the hot seat and now it’s my turn?”
“Yeah” 
After a beat he says admits it so softly that you have to strain to hear him properly
“I would have wanted to”
He had long ago decided to settle for the life he had, being a father had to come first, the rest was something he no longer got to want. Or something he wouldn’t admit he still wanted anyway. 
You raise your head briefly to look up at him, his tone sobering you up, because you know him, know what he meant. If you had looked just behind Hotch towards the other edge of the dance floor you would have caught Spencer's inquisitive gaze or Penelopes’ delighted one. But you don’t, you’re laser focused on Hotch searching in his eyes for something you can’t quite grasp, a way to convey that he needs to stop atoning for something he shouldn’t fault himself for in the first place. 
You fist your hands on the front of his shirt briefly before smoothing out the wrinkles with your palms.
“I didn’t ask about before, I’m asking about you now” 
“It’s not that easy” 
“It’s a yes or no question, so yes it actually is” 
He tilts his head back in frustration, looking up at the night sky like he’ll find the exact words he wants to use spelled for him. 
“That’s not something I get to want anymore” “You can’t punish yourself forever” 
He begins to say something but you cut him off before he can, his hands tightening around your waist
“Nor should you try” He gulps and looks away giving in “think whatever you want to think but I know you and I think you deserve to be happy again” 
“I thought you said I shouldn’t listen to you” 
“Momentary lapse in judgment”  You reply with a teasing smile, not wanting to fully fuck up his night “so?” 
“...Yes”   Somehow the admission of desire feels like a betrayal and a confession at the same time. Both freeing and terrifying. 
 You go back to swaying together, in sync with one another and standing out against the livelier rhythm of the couples around you. 
From this vantage point you study his profile, from his strong nose to his thick lashes and back to his jaw. You never really paid attention to him but right now under the tea lights it dawns on you how handsome he is. 
“What about you?” 
“Oh I’m joining a convent” He chuckles and you feel it move through you. It’s a rare sound nowadays. 
“You’ll find someone” Hotch says with a certainty you wished you could have
“That’s just what you say to make people feel better, it’s up there with yes those bangs look great on you or like when you tell little kids that they can be astronauts or whatever” 
“I know you’ll find someone because I don’t think anyone could meet you and not realize how extraordinary you are” He says in an almost whisper. 
“There is someone who, categorically, doesn’t realize it, in this very same room” 
“Could be he didn’t know you as well as you’d think”
“Could be” You concede. 
Some time has passed now, although you can’t pinpoint exactly how long, it feels like the rest of the world went quiet and this is all that’s left. The sweet honeyed lilies, fresh jasmines and heady sweet daffodils of the garden are in full bloom. The night sweetly perfumed as the petals gently swayed to and fro.
From across the garden you can see JJ slow dance with Will, he’s saying something to her and she’s all smiles.  You let your humiliation melt into fondness, the warmth you felt for her pulling you out of your melancholy. New beginnings and all that. 
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mattsturnioloz · 1 day
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Then I lost you: Pt 4.
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Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.
Summary: Matt's career as a youtuber takes a toll on his 4 year relationship with his girlfriend, putting it on hold. Will it ever be the same again?
Warnings: angst, unresolved angst, crying, talk about intercourse, make out, fluff!!
Pairings: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo
A/N: (Felt like writing chapter 4 cause I need to know what happens😭 also I recommend listening to the song while reading🙂)
“You know deep down it’s for the best y/n.” Matt says to me, gently taking my hands in his, a few tears rolling down his cheeks. I feel a deep pang in my heart but I wipe my tears. I nod, hugging him. We share a long heartfelt hug, and it only gets tighter each second.
“I love you.” I silently cry. “I love you more baby..” Matt says, softly hugging me closer, his arms around my torso. This very same night we cuddle eachother close, not knowing if it’s gonna be the last time.
———- ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ———-
The next morning I wake up still cuddled up with Matt, my heart heavy. It’s soon, but I know I should house hunt right now. Because if I don’t leave soon, I don’t think I ever will. I sit up taking myself out of matt’s arms gently, not wanting to wake up, but he stirs awake anyway and yanks me down pulling me closer. It hurts so bad but this feels so good.
I spend the next week house hunting, not finding anything that feels like home yet. No where is home if Matt isn’t with me. Matt is my home.
Matt and I still act like a couple, because we know this won’t be for much longer, and it felt like how it used to be, when we first got together. Innocent and sweet. It hurts to know we’re letting this go. I feel like we just gave up on what we have too soon. I don’t want to let it all go.
Matt comes with me to check out a house and when we walk in, we instantly feel like this is the one for me. It was small and cozy, which I love since it’s only gonna be me. Only me.
I sign the papers and buy the house, with a smile on my face, but it fades once I remember the circumstances. My things are still at my old Matt’s place, already all packed up.
We walk into Matt’s room which once was mine too, after loading all my boxes of belongings into the u-haul. It feels empty and I take a look at his face and all I see is dread and tears rolling down his cheeks.
“Matt..” I almost whisper. I grab his hand pulling him closer to bring him into a hug, and he breaks into sobs. I’ve never heard matt cry, not like this. Tears roll down my cheeks as we hug again.
“P-please- Please don’t go yet.. i just want- need one more night with you..please-” He chokes out, stuttering and sobbing. “Okay.. I would love that..” I say softly, sniffing while cupping his face, lifting it so that I can look at him with a smile and I kiss his salty teary lips.
It was time for bed and I decide to shower. I go to the bathroom and I get undressed before getting in and letting the water run over my body. I hear the bathroom door open and I open the curtain, finding Matt undressing himself to join me.
Before I could even say anything he opens the curtain wider and gets in, kissing me sweetly and softly. We shower together while showering eachother with love.
When we finish, Matt turns the shower faucet off then helps me out the shower. Once we’re out he dries my hair and naked body with the towel before doing the same to himself.
We brush our teeth, still just in towels and when we finish Matt gently grabs my chin, turning my head to face him and he kisses me. It gets deeper by the second but no faster. It was lust-filled but in the sweetest way.
He lifts me up by my thighs gripping them and takes me to the room, closing the door and gently putting me on the bed before crawling on top of me and slowly removing the towel, kissing me passionately once again. He makes his way to my neck slowly, taking his time, being gentle.
We make slow but sweet passionate love all night, and tears were shed during it, but after we cuddled eachother close and held on tight because now we knew for sure that this was our last night together. We fall asleep in eachother’s arms, not ready to let go.
———- ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ———-
Matt’s Pov:
I wake up in the morning with y/n’s arms and legs tied around me and it hits me that this is our last day together, which also happens to mark our 5 year anniversary..
I want to take back what I said. What I said about us not working. I regret it. But I know it’s too late and the damage is already done.
I don’t know what i’m gonna do without her. She’s my light, and I can’t believe I’m this stupid enough to be letting someone like her go. I love her and I can’t imagine my life without her.
She was supposed to be my wife. The mother of my children. The one who I was supposed to grow old with. The one who I would be telling stories with to our kids about how we met and fell in love. I messed it up, and now I can’t take it back, but i’ve hurt her enough.
I feel y/n start to stir awake and I brush her hair out of her face, looking down at her with a loose genuine smile. “Good morning baby..” I say leaning down towards her face to give her a sweet kiss on the tip of her nose then on the corner of her lips.
“Good morning..” She smiles with grogginess in her eyes. Her smile pulling at my heartstrings. “Happy 5 year anniversary, my love.” I say kissing her lips this time. Her smile fades and her face is in a frown. Her eyes well up which makes mine too. “I know.. I know..” I hold her close as we cry together as I occasionally kiss her forehead. I wipe her tears before kissing her forehead one last time and we get up and get dressed up for the day.
We make breakfast while messing around and laughing together, and I couldn’t help but hang onto our love that’s still here and after breakfast I feel so much affection towards her.
“Hey, why don’t I take you out for dinner tonight?” I ask her pulling her closer by the waist. “Why not?” She agrees with a big smile on her face. I lean down to peck her lips softly. “Perfect, i’ll take you home so that you can get ready then i’ll be back to pick you up” I say enthusiastically. She nods and leans up, standing up on her tip toes to give me a kiss.
I grab my keys and I lead her to the car to take her home. We get in and on the drive there we listen to music and talk about whatever we felt like talking about.
Once we get there, she grabs her purse from between her legs and she give me a kiss. “See you later..” She says with a small but sweet smile. “See you later baby..” I say, giving her a warm smile. She walks off to her front door and she opens it, going inside and shutting the door behind her, I start the car and I drive back home. I was determined to make this the best last date. Just for her.
1,250 words.
A/N: (thought this was gonna be the last part but I got exhausted and didn’t wanna wait to post it so part 5 is coming out tomorrow and is gonna be the last part!! I got so emotional making this part omgggg, writing angst is not for the weakkkk😭)
Taglist: @watercolorskyy @starzinasblog @imwetforyourmom @urfavstromboli @sturniqloo @star-yawnznn @h3arts4harry
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kaybreezy3000 · 20 hours
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Broken but breathing. Longing for something that always felt just out of his reach, Five was not okay.
With fates forever intertwined, a train, and a smile he would never forget, once again, the impossible became his reality, but like always, not without tragedy.
In the end, all that mattered are the people Five loved. For them, he would do anything.
Note ~I originally started this pre-s4 release as anon request for another headcanon like my last one, but after watching the show I decided this needed to more than that because Five deserved it. This is a full story, with each letter representing a chapter with something that relates back to Five, only with a new twist, you (female reader insert). For those concerned about the Five and Lila narrative, fear not, this story is not going that route.
~mature content so if not your thing, please stay away. TY.
Warnings and Tags: Rated R for sexually explicit content, Hurt Number Five, Alternate S4, Whump, Mental Break Down, Self-Doubt, Angst-humor-love, Uncle Five, The Deli Fives, Starts with Five in a very dark place, Not the end the show gave us.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Amor Fati is a Latin phrase that may be translated as "love of fate" or "love of one's fate." It is used to describe an attitude in which one sees everything that happens in one's life, including suffering and loss, as good or, at the very least, necessary.
It's an idea that everything recurs infinitely over an infinite period of time.
A-Aim
Whether Five was setting his sights on saving his family, or when he was focusing all his attention on the crosshairs of his scope, his focus was always impressive. 
From a very young age he took on every challenge with a ruthless level of determination, but that unfortunately made him come off disturbingly detached, and now, even though Five no longer needed to be that feral creature, his behaviors from the past were alienating him from his family, and the rest of the world.
It's not that Five didn’t have a very good reason for letting himself become so removed, but now, gone were the days when he had glorious purpose.
Sitting alone in a powerless world that Reginald had dumped them in while biding his time at the end of a bar with his face curtained by the dark fringe of his shaggy hair, Five was feeling exceptionally defeated.
He hypnotically swirled the amber liquid in his fingerprint smudged glass.
Over and over, he repeated your name in his head.
He liked the sound of it, but he liked the way you smiled at him even more.
Five saw you nearly every day on his way to work, but as much as he may have wanted to, he never said a word to you. When you’d look his way, and catch him staring, your eyes would come alive as your lips perked up just a little, as if daring him to crack.
He didn’t.
He couldn’t. 
That was the way Five thought it had to be.
But then, something happened.
He could still feel that...
That...
He didn't know what it was.
Shutting his eyes, Five raked a hand through his snarls while disappointedly shaking his head. He knew he shouldn’t let himself do this but he couldn’t help it.
It was just another day, mundane as all the rest. All the seats had been taken by the time you entered the train. You were stuck in the middle, standing in front of him with nothing to hold on to. Less than thirty seconds into the ride, the air between you filled with static.
The hairs on the back of his neck prickled.
The train unexpectedly shifted.
You started to fall, and the next thing Five knew, he had you in his arms so fast it was as if he had his powers to blink again.
With the warmth of your butt pressed against him and your hair catching in the light stubble shadowing his chin, Five inhaled deeply, trying to ignore how oddly alive he felt as he discreetly as possible savored how good you smelled.
Before he could put together why he felt so amazing, or before you could tell him off for being too handsy, the train shifted again, only sharper this time, forcing him to hold onto you even tighter or you would have tumbled into the man in front of you.
“Oh, my god! I am sorry,” you’d gasped as you clung to him, your fingernails digging into the thick wool suit coat covering his forearms.
Realizing you weren’t mad, Five let his hands slide a little further around your midsection, firming his grip.
“Thank you,” you embarrassingly gasped as the train continued to aggressively rock your body against his.
“It’s my pleasure,” Five breathily chuckled into the fluff of your hair.
A second later, the train switched tracks, and everyone was flung forward again and your computer bag swung backwards, violently jabbing him in the dick.
Still at the mercy of the wild train, with Five doing his best to widen his stance to gain more balance so you both didn’t fall, you sheepishly cocked your head back at him.
“Are you ahh -"
“I-I am good,” he coughed, cutting you off.
Then, to your surprise and his, though still visibly in pain, he started laughing.
By the time everyone stopped getting thrown around, you were laughing too. As you turned to face him, Five reluctantly let his hands slip from the narrowest point of your waist, his fingers gliding along the fabric of your shirt a little slower than necessary.
Face flushed, you quickly introduced yourself, but he said nothing as he smiled at you with a dreamy look in his eyes.
“I am pretty sure we just took a detour to the moon back there, but I still can’t believe I just did that,” you joked.
At a loss for words, other than things he knew he shouldn’t say, Five’s amused smile began to fade.
“Thank you for saving me from a nosedive. Let me at least buy you a coffee or something… It’s the least I can do after stomping on your foot and nailing you in the-” 
You looked down.
“Shit… That big scuff wasn’t there before, was it?” you asked, anxiously referring to the mark on Five’s shoe, not something notable going on in the dick region of his expensive looking dress pants.
When the handsome stranger staring at you still said nothing, you began to worry your bottom lip, sucking it in on one side.
Feeling so many things he’d never let himself feel, Five wanted nothing more than run his thumb over the alluring pink flesh and tell you that getting his dick assaulted and having his shoes ruined was well worth it because of the way you were looking at him with your face more beautifully flustered than he’d ever seen anyone’s.
He wanted to say that, but he didn’t.
The train slowed to a stop.
The doors opened, and without another word, Five took off. Stepping into the crowd of commuters that were rushing out the doors as they elbowed their way through the busy subway station, he'd never felt more spineless.
That morning, when it came to his unbreakable determination and legendary aim, he didn’t even shoot for it with you, so he could hardly call it a missed target. Still, he felt awful. Almost as soon as he’d hit the street above and he was inundated with the less than savory smells of the city, he knew he’d missed something huge.
Racing back down the stairs, heart racing, the rush of air blew past him as the train with you on it pulled away.
B-Boners (AKA Mistakes)
At this point in his life, as much as Five hated it, he still had boner issues. Your overactive dick in your pants kind of boner issues, and the other kind, such as when committing social blunders, like rudely blowing you off when you were simply trying to be polite.
Being young again, with hormones what they were, the first boner problem was an unavoidable way of life, and speaking of which, his thoughts about you once again drifted back to how good it felt when your body melted into his, your ass perfectly molding against the crotch of his pants as he held you steady.
Feeling things he shouldn’t be while perched on a barstool at a bar filled with other people, Five subtly shifted his legs apart. Willing his over eager cock to calm down, he looked up at the mirrored wall behind the bottles of liquor displayed along the back wall.
The young man looking back at him frowned, but his body remained aroused despite his sorrowful reflection.
Unable to hold his own hateful glare, Five looked back down at his almost empty glass.
Hopelessly horny, and far past slightly buzzed, he muttered a slurred sounding, “ Grrrrrr- ate . ”
With an irritated huff of air blowing his hair out of his face, Five yanked his tie even looser and tipped back his head, swallowing the rest of his drink. Feeling like he could breathe a little easier, he threw down an overly generous tip, assuring that even though he technically wasn't 21 yet, his ID said he was, and combined, he’d be served again.
Ready to go, his hot palms gliding down his tensed thighs, Five’s eyes fluttered closed for just a second.
His head spun, but not with the sickness of too much drink.
In his whirl of thoughts, he was back on the train with you.
He could practically feel your ass in his hands, his fingers groping greedily as he shamelessly ground his shaft between your legs from behind.
Sadly, at this point, Five still had never been with anyone real. Yet, the disconnect of not knowing what this would really feel like, or how he should be going about doing it, was doing nothing to ruin his bizarrely timed fantasy of animalistically fucking his rock-hard erection into the warmth of your curvy body in any way he could.
God, he wanted to touch his dick!
Opening his eyes, the room spun even more and not in a good way, but still Five refrained from doing that and instead clung to the pleasant visions in his head.
Over the years, with little to give him the feeling of satisfaction he so desperately longed for, Five had unwittingly become addicted to self-stimulation, and it was not just the thrill of that chase that tormented him. Five craved anything that gave him that all-consuming high, though when it came to bloodshed, he refused to admit how great it felt being so good at his job back when he was the Commission’s most celebrated assassin.
Feet hitting the sticky floor, Five’s thoughts blurred with an endless reel of bad ideas, only one of them being the idea of hunting you down so he could re-start your conversation from the train, this time pushing past his reservations for why getting to know you wasn’t an option. 
Screw that!
This time Five was going to charm you, wine and dine you, and take you home so he could do all sorts of naughty things to you- if you’d let him, of course . He was a monster, but not that kind of monster .
A few seconds later, hand pushing the bar’s grungy advertisement-covered door open, the cool night air hit Five’s overheated face, but it did nothing to get his head on straight or make him realize he had no idea how to treat a real woman who could talk back or think on her own.
Yes, in this body and one that was much younger, Number Five Hargreeves hit on strippers and waitresses to get a rise out of them, but having an actual two-way conversation with them, followed by any form of true intimacy, no.
No, he’d never done that, but today, with you, he wanted to, so damn badly.
No matter how drunk he was, Five knew that letting himself think like this about you wasn’t right or helping the tent in his pants get any less prominent and he hated himself for it. With his bloodshot eyes struggling to focus, he dizzily turned towards the staggering reflection in the store window next to him, taking in the sad face looking back.
“Pathetic,” he grumbled, before trudging away with his chin lowered to his chest.
C-Cycle of Loneliness
Stumbling along the sidewalks while on his way home, Five felt trapped. He was finally free of all the death and endless killing, but that didn’t mean he felt like he could live, or that he even knew how to.
With his past what it was, he was unable to let anyone other than his family know who he really was and like before ending up powerless in Reginald’s new world, they were failing to see that he wasn’t as okay as he was pretending to be.
Like always, despite what Five felt about this, in most situations, he managed to keep his composure. He acted like he was fine. Putting on a stoic face of impassivity, he attended most family functions when asked. He’d gotten his PHD in record time and handled his work within the CIA professionally, but at the end of the day, he was merely existing and the reasons for it were becoming harder and harder for him to justify.
D- Distance and Diffidence-the opposite of confidence
When it came to shyness and a lack of confidence, most of the time Five Hargreeves would be the last person you would think of, but self-doubt had always plagued him. Growing up with a father that never thought he was good enough was the trigger that inflamed his insecurities, but even worse, after the trials of his youth and his lifetime alone in the apocalypse, he believed that if he’d never left and messed up the way he did, his family never would have died.
Never a day passed that Five didn’t tell himself, If I hadn’t lost it and jumped to the future and got myself stuck, none of this would have happened.
Knowing that none of his siblings were exactly thrilled with how things had gone for them over the last five years, nearly every time Five was around them, he couldn’t help but feel like that was all his fault too.  
Ironically and tragically, long ago, Five was the one that initially distanced himself from his family, but in typical Five Hargreeves fashion, now he’d been overcompensating for his feelings of inferiority by lashing out on those he loved, only further complicating his problems.
Only twenty minutes from the suburbs where Allison and his niece Claire lived with Klaus, who was dealing with the aftermath of his sobriety in their bubble wrapped basement, since they’d been there, Five had only been to their house once.
Looking up at the four-story brownstone looming over him, no less drunk after walking the twelve blocks it took to get home, Five realized that not one of his family members even knew where he lived, and he was surer than ever that they didn’t care to.
They didn’t need him anymore.
E-Egotistical
Five knew he could become preoccupied with his own affairs, often showing others contempt by rolling his eyes at them in annoyance and boredom, or both, but his smug behavior wasn’t as simple as him having an exaggerated perception of his own worth.
Five never meant to become so estranged from his family. They were everything to him, and in addition to that, he never meant to treat you as coldly as he did by running off when you were merely trying to treat him like any other normal person would treat someone else.
No one would have believed it, but the truth was, Five was scared of rejection more than anything. All along he had been trying to protect himself with a mask of indifference as his mighty shield.
F-Fumbling, Fuck It
Fumbling with his keys, Five was confused by his own behavior, and even more bothered by his inappropriate thoughts about you when he didn’t even know you. He was hardly what anyone would call a brainless idiot, but the title seemed to fit as he tripped over his own feet while talking to himself like a total nutcase.
“Hi. Sure… No problem, it’s all good. My shoe and my dick are fine, really. Oh, and what a lovely name. My name is Five. Yeah, that’s right. It’s a fucking number,” he sardonically laughed, then dropped his keys when after several tries, he couldn’t get them to align with the keyhole.
Swooping down to get them, he tipped over, his head banging into the door, swinging the flimsy panel of wood wide with the force of his skull until it slammed into the wall inside his apartment.
“It wasn’t even locked, you dipshit!” he cursed himself as glass skittered across his shoes from the picture frame that just smashed to the floor, the one with a picture of him holding his newborn niece, Grace.
“Fucking, FUCK!” he cried, picking up the picture. 
He started brushing off the tiny shards of glass sticking to it.
When a white line tore right over the bundle in his arms, ruining her little face that was staring up at him as if he were worthy of her look of wonderment, instead of angrily throwing a fist into his already crumbling plaster, Dolores’s familiar voice started to filter into Five’s mind, proving he was doing particularly awful that evening.
As his once beloved mannequin, the one who wasn’t even there, encouraged him to move towards this kitchen and set down the photograph before his bloodied fingers damaged it even more, the suggestiveness he’d created in her calming words had Five’s lips turning up in a drunken smirk of craziness.
You need to sober up, Five… You can’t keep doing this to yourself. Come to bed with me…’
Dripping blood in his cast-iron sink basin, thoughts of a totally different kind of self-absorption filled Five’s head, and with them, a renewed rush of blood went places that had hardly let him forget they were dying for his attention.
Acting in an alcohol induced form of autopilot, obeying Dolores, Five poured himself a glass of water from the tap, drank it, then clumsily navigated the darkness of his one room flat, heading towards his bed, where he fell like a ton of bricks into the rumpled bedding, still fully clothed.
With his knees digging into the bed, lifting him, hands racing to unfasten the buttons on his waist coat and shirt, this was one of Five’s many, many fuck it moments, not that he had much of a choice in how he landed with his head smashed into his pillows.
But…
As he rolled onto his back, his dick twitching from the mere pressure of being pressed into the bed, his hand slipped over his pants, and that was another matter at hand that was all him.
The dips and valley of Five’s abs flexed as he lay there, his youthful body bleached and pale in the slivers of light streaming in from between his blinds. As he let his hands wander and he began to stroke his cock through the layers covering him, the languid motion of his hand was weak in contrast to the sharp angles of pleasure contorting his face.
With the cool air in his room hitting his exposed chest, Five shivered. His eyes narrowed, locking in on the long shadow of his erection that was making a mockery of his pants.
It felt so fucking good to touch himself. He whimpered, as he dug his hand into himself harder, then let up again.
He didn’t mean to, but he lived for this.
In the apocalypse this was all he had. 
Now, going at it at his desk, having spent a long day at work, the papers in front of him hardly stimulating enough to hold his interest, jerking off was just another part of his daily routine.
Lying in bed, in the shower, or even sometimes in the bathroom at work if he found himself unable to reign in his body’s needs, Five would stroke his dick, hard and fast, and before he knew it, he would be biting back guttural moans, head leaned up against a bathroom stall, coming all over a wad of toilet paper, or at his desk, dispensing his load in an already used shirt or anything else that he could reach that was expendable.
It was juvenile, and perverted as all hell, and he knew it, but just thinking about it, the wrongness, and about you, Five was getting harder, his balls filling with that delicious ache that made him feel alive.
“You can touch it, sweetheart” he whispered as he began to unzip his pants, trying to concentrate on the illusion that Dolores was there with him.
He teased himself, brushing his fingers lightly over the cotton still covering his cock.
As if watching it from outside himself, the resin covered peachiness of his beloved’s hand merged with the fleshiness of your real hand.
Palming himself with growing need, the face Five had been seeing looking down at him suddenly smiled the way you smiled at him as the visions in his head became a muddling array of unquenchable desire.
“Fuck, I want you,” Five groaned as his fingers snuck inside the fly of his underwear for just a second before pulling out again.
Acting out your part, he tightened his grip on his girth, making pre-cum begin to leak through his underwear, forming a darkened spot where the head of his cock was begging to be let free.
“Yeah, just like that. Go slow,” he moaned, his fingers wrapping around his length, moving over the stretched fabric as he began to pump, still gently as he possibly could.
Pictures flashed through his mind. His lips on your jaw, your eyelids heavy and expressive as his lips slightly parted, his hair flowing away from his face, tickling your silky skin as he held you from behind like a trusted lover.
At the phantom like sounds of your little laughs filling his ears, Five’s dick pulsed in his hand, blood flowing full and fast.
Unable to take it, he reached inside his underwear, giving in to touching himself more directly.
Five twirled his finger around the end of his cock.
Lowering your head, the heat of your mouth began to slip over the thickness of his leaking tip, tonguing the pool of stickiness gathered there. 
“I knew the second you looked at me, you wanted me,” he arrogantly huffed as you went down on him.
Though Dolores had heard it all before, glaring at him on the sidelines of his mind, she suddenly looked appalled.
You can’t say things like that! she chastised him.
Determined to shake her, Five put all his attention on the feel of his cock entering your throat.
Snuffing out any remaining thoughts of Dolores out of his head, Five quickened his pace, drowning out the sound of her panicky warnings that were trying to make him see that this kind of fantasy was even worse than his others with her.
Five! You are only hurting yourself with this!
“I don’t care!” he growled.
He bit down on his lip and closed his eyes, only to be greeted by the memory of your hair falling over your shoulders as it brushed against his face when you were both back on the train.
He breathed in and he could smell you.
Then his brain trying to piece together what really happened, he saw your look of shock as he rushed away from you like you were the plague or worse. 
“What’s wrong with you?” he heard you angrily yell, even though you had said nothing when he did that.
“Please don’t stop. I’m sorry,” he panted, mad at himself for hurting you, and even more panicked by his own madness.
Fighting back, he kept his pace, and just like that, you just as quickly forgave him, taking him to the hilt, your nose hitting his pubic bone.
Dark hair in his eyes as he watched his entire cock repeatedly drive down your throat, Five hissed, “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes-"
Dolores’s voice cried out. Five! You’re losing it again!
‘Go away!’ Five’s mind screamed at itself, proving she wasn’t wrong-he was losing it .
For the next few minutes, the sounds of Five sadistically berating himself as he violently masturbated were absorbed in the quiet of his dark, empty room.
Shame filling him, his stomach twisted.
He was so fucking close. 
His shoulder blades flushed as small beads of sweat formed on the back of his neck. The muscles in his back and arms tensed harder and harder as he quickly moved his hand.
Angling his face to the ceiling, his eyes scrunched shut and his right arm dropped lazily to the side.
His butt cheeks clenched over and over as his bed springs creaked, his thrusts enough to make his headboard bang into the wall as he frantically pumped his body upwards into his hand.
“You-ff-fu-ah-cking lov-vvve my cock-fuck-you’re amazing,” he grunted and writhed, his sweat covered legs burning under the wool of his rumpled pants that were trapped around his ankles as he bent his knees up and his heels dug into the bed.
Already putting on an impressive one-man show of insanity, wanting more of your mouth’s wet heaven, Five let go of his dick, spitting in his hand. Returning to the length of flesh waiting for him, he thrusted up into his fist with louder and louder noises of slicked ecstasy.
Panting and moaning your name, sweat dripped down the curves of Five’s back. Through sharp propulsions of his hips, he cursed. Throwing his other hand back, he clutched and pulled at his own hair.
He held his breath as his mind screamed and his come poured over his fingers.
Lost in what he was pretending was the feel of your mouth accepting him, yet still wanting to spare his sheets, Five aimed his dick inwards, letting his seed pour out over the fine trail of hair leading up his abdomen, the white beads flinging across his otherwise unmarked skin.
Pulses of pleasure took him as he watched the eroticism of defiling himself.
His broken gasps got quieter and quieter. “FFFUUCC-ffff fff-mmmff."
His balls tightening as hips jerked more and more erratically, Five felt the betraying warmth of his tears pooling in the corners of his eyes as he rode out wave upon wave of the orgasm he’d longed more than anything for you to be part of, the defeated voice of his own creation ruminating in his head so loud he couldn’t ignore it anymore.
She doesn’t even know you.
“I know,” he whimpered back with the hand not on his cock, coming up, covering his red face.
G-Grief
Most of Five’s life was filled with intense mourning. He’d witnessed the death of everyone he’d ever loved, more than once. His anguish over having to bury his family left him in a state of ruin, not unlike the burning world he’d found himself in at the ripe age of thirteen.
Hours after he’d drunkenly cleaned up the mess that he’d made of himself, sucking in, mind adrift, Five suddenly couldn’t breathe.
There was too much ash.
So thirsty he could barely swallow, he ran his tongue over his cracked lips, only getting more of the bitter taste of powered cinders and the tang of his own blood.
The smell of burning flesh made him gag into the suffocating white of his pillowcase.
His stomach turned even as it growled with hunger.
Five was asleep, but the horrors he couldn’t outrun were creeping in like the maggots on the thousands of corpses he could see laying all around him, the sickness of it all wiggling into his periphery as he kicked out his legs and tangled himself in his blankets.
I'm going to die here!
It’s too hot!
I can’t get out.
He was being crushed.
Fingers clenching, hands shaking as his chest became tighter and tighter, it was as if he was the one that was dying even though it was the lifeless faces of his siblings flashing in front of his terror filled eyes that were darting around his dark bedroom, seeing nothing but the endless nightmare of his past.
H-Happiness
In another timeline, while not having a nightmare of the panic attack inducing kind, along a sunny roadside, Five had a very revealing conversation with the woman that had plucked him out of hell, only to throw him into a new one.
Ice cream truck stuck motionless, a bullet seconds away from rearranging Luther’s brain, Five stood there in his schoolboy shorts, his pistol pointed at The Handler as he said, “I'm not looking for happy.”
Like so many times, he watched her perfectly painted lips curl with a certain brand of mischievous cruelty that was all her own. “We're all looking for happy, Five,” she coolly corrected.
Looking away, Five tried in vain to hide his panic.
He did want happiness! That was the problem, only he’d given up on it for himself long ago and the Handler knew that pointing out his lie was the perfect way to break him all over again.
Not about to let her win, Five ground his teeth together and defiantly looked back up at her, not bothering to show is venomous disdain as she towered over him in her shiny red heels.
The world never cared what he wanted, but he’d be damned if he’d give up fighting to save it, but now, as he rushed from his bed to his bathroom sink, helplessly sobbing as he filled his hands with scoop after scoop of cold water, trying in vain to bring himself back to reality, who was going to save him?
I-Ignored
It was the day of his niece’s birthday.
Leaving work, after another day of reporting back to his superiors about The Keepers’s activity and them not giving a shit how far he’d gotten infiltrating their cult like secret society, Five looked down at the colorful invitation in his hand, then the package he’d wrapped the best he could in the other.
The shiny paper was lopsided, revealing an electronic toy puppy’s face peeking out from inside.
The last time Five ran into Diego and his family while out at the same store, his goddaughter had told him how much she wanted a very specific chunk of robotic plastic that was over in the nearby toy section.
“I know its the next Tickle Me Elmo or some shit, but we don’t have the money for that. You know that, Grace! Why do you always have to push and push this stuff,” Diego said, scowling at her.
Lila rolled her eyes at that, then unfazed by her look of disapproval, Diego kept moving, throwing more important items in their cart.
The twins, covered in groceries, fussed and cried in their car seats as their parents moved on, not saying anything else to Five other than a flippant, ‘see you later.’  
Like always, they weren’t happy to see him and the little girl looking up at him shared his same look of disappointment.
Hating how let down she looked, Five smiled. “What do you think his name is?” Five asked, pointing to the barking box just down the aisle that said, ‘Makes chocolate poopies you can eat!’ in bold letters.
“I don’t know, Uncle Five,” Grace said, shyly looking down at her shoes. “What do you think he wants to be called?”
Turning back, looking even more irritated as she put back a box of sugar filled kids cereal that Diego was trying to sneak into the cart, Lila yelled, “Grace! Come on!”
The little girl ran off, but Five answered her question after purchasing the toy puppy, programming it to wag its tail as his voice came out through its recorder, saying, “I’m Mr. Pennycrumb and you are my best friend. You should listen to me even though I am a toy dog. Your parents are idiots, but I am still smarter than them.”
A few hours later, after his daughter excitedly tore open her favorite gift of the day, and he heard Five’s special message and Grace’s squeals of delight over it, as he envisioned karate kicking Mr. Pennycrumb into the rafters, Diego’s eyes damn near bugged out of his head as he yelled,  “Really, Five!”
“What,” he said, shrugging.
Clearly Diego and Lila weren't happy with him, but it wasn't like it mattered. They were never happy with him.
Even while in the presence of his family, as Five leaned back against the rainbow ball pit’s netting, it felt like he might as well still be rotting away in the apocalypses still. While at the birthday party with Luther bashing the shit out of the pinata, their bickering and problems with each other never seemed to end. He tried his best, talking to Ben and the others, but once the small talk was done, it was as if he wasn’t even there unless he said something shitty.
Five was just a figure on the sideline, someone who his own family didn’t want to know.
All he wanted his entire life was to get back to them, but when he did, they had moved on. They didn’t understand him, and he couldn’t blame them for that, he didn’t even like who he was, but at least he was owning that. Jerks act like jerks.
If not for the sound of Gracie calling out to him as he was about to leave, Five would have ended up at a bar again, alone and miserable.
“Thank you so much for coming. I love you, Uncle Five,” she said after she ran over to him.
“I love you too,” he quietly replied, trying not to let her hear the crack in his voice as she put her arms up, silently asking him to come down to her level so she could hug him.
That little hug was all it took, and not much after that, Five found himself out in the parking lot with the rest of them, meeting a very strange man named Sy Grossman.
J-Judgement
Most of Five’s life was defined by punishment. He often mused that all the bad things had been inflicted on him as retribution for his many wrongdoings. As for which of his crimes he was paying for now, after finding Viktor, then having a night out at dinner with his family that went all sorts of wrong, the world was set to end again in twenty-four hours, so it didn’t really matter.
No matter how remorseful Five was, or how much he’d already suffered, or how he tried to make things right and move on without hurting anyone else but himself, it seemed that the sentence of this endless destruction would always be his penance.
K-Keepers
Five should have seen it. Both that Ben had tricked them with his sake toast, and long before that obvious con.
Sitting there dressed like an idiot, his fake mustache thicker than it had ever been when he’d been 19 years old the first time around, he had chatted it up in the therapeutic round circle of crazy people, going on and on about how he was walking around in a body not his own.
He was a 65-year-old man for Christ’s sake! This shouldn’t be where he was!
He told those weirdos that he’d lived through things people couldn’t even begin to imagine!
He lived off all kinds of nasty creepy crawlies, his teeth breaking through the crusts of their exoskeletons, the ooze of their insides almost impossible to swallow, but he did it anyway.
He’d brought on so much suffering to others as he traveled through time, briefcase in hand, murdering anyone he was ordered to eliminate.
Some days Five would look in the mirror and get so confused that he’d forget where or who he was. He didn’t know what was real or not anymore.
He didn’t have to pretend that he was nuts, that was why The Keepers let him get closer. That was why he had run into Lila out skipping book club, trying to feel the danger and excitement she’d once lived for before becoming a tired mother who felt like she was drowning in the monotony of her marriage.
Looking away as Diego fumed about catching his wife with her creepy little Greek boyfriend, Five angled his face towards the window.
His mind reeled. Diego was asking for his help! Him of all people!
Everything was falling apart.
After a van ride covered in puke, listening to Baby Shark on repeat, they were all being shot at.
Heart racing, he blinked, just as a shotgun shell was going to split his skull in two.
Only just then realizing he had his powers back, Five landed in a subway station that had not been under the street he was standing on when they got there.
L-Love
Narrowly fleeing from the set-up in psycho Christmas Town, The Hargreeves had escaped unscathed once more, only they didn’t. The marigold in their bodies proved they weren’t who they were before, and the mangled bodies lying all around at the farm they’d come to while looking for Ben verified that once again, they were way in over their heads.
Reginald couldn’t or wouldn’t help them anymore than he already did, and they couldn’t help themselves. Ben was going to die all over again and his love for Jennifer was a curse not meant to be broken.
Watching his brother doing his best cop impersonation, all Five could think about was they were never going to win; they weren’t meant to, even if that was what they were brought up to believe.
The Keepers and their purpose proved Five’s life new life was a shame. He failed to see that his direct report was one of them. He failed to listen to the things inside him that were telling him none of this was real.
No matter how much Five loved his family, it was never going to be enough to fix this.
Later, as Diego tore open filing cabinets in the abandoned office of Dr. Jean and Gene Thibedeau, Lila pursed her lips at Five for about the hundredth time that day, signaling again that she wasn’t happy with him. Hitting his arm, she quietly said, “I say we go off on our own and try to figure out what is going on with this new power of yours. Pull your big girl panties up and stop being a baby.”
Ignoring her, Five watched as Diego entered the next room, then feeling as if he was having an outer body experience he looked down at his hands. They tingled with energy.
He slowly walked to the window, looking down at the street below.
It felt like his heart stopped and he’d been sucked into a vacuum. 
Everything went quiet.
There you were, walking down the street, the sun lighting up your face like a spotlight just for him. Stopping to tie your shoe, you stepped aside, excusing yourself to the person behind you.
You smiled apologetically. 
Something inside Five broke.
It was the same smile you’d given him.
It meant nothing.
The feeling of something special happening when he’d touched you was as fake as the rest of this!
Of all the people he would see in a time like this, it was you! The one person he’d been dying to see since he’d first laid eyes on you.
It was like some cruel fate, same as the one always chasing him, nipping at his heels with imminent death. Everything was just another reminder that no matter how much he wanted things to be different, he had nothing, and he never would.
He wanted to know what it was like to be loved by anyone even a little, but good things weren’t meant for him.
“Five!” Lila loudly whispered, getting even more upset. “We need to try something other than digging around in garbage cans, like that idiot in there! Give me your damn hand and let’s do this already!”
She began to come his way, hand outstretched.
Lila’s voice cracked with emotion when he looked down at it. “Five, I need you…your family needs you.”
Knowing full well that they had no idea what they were going to do about the impending Cleanse, Five’s brows pulled together, and he shook his head, no.
In a daze, still looking at Lila’s hand, the sight of it filled him with memories from the night before, all of them laced with the same sickness and regret he couldn’t escape. 
After a chance run in at the secret Keepers meeting, when a woman wearing a name tag saying Nancy, ran those same reaching fingers across a man named Jerome’s upper lip, tenderly wiping off the powdered sugar from his pastry, Five had thought of you and the one small chance he’d let go to have even a few hours of happiness by your side, just getting to know you.
Eyes moving to his brother, pain in his chest, in a flash of violet hued light, Five was gone, seconds before Lila could reach him.
M-Martyr
Five’s entire life was an example of sacrifice. So many times, he could have given up, or put himself first, but he didn’t.
Thinking of his family and their kids, stuck feeling like he had no other option, he stumbled out of his portal, his eyes scanning the musty subway platform and the train waiting for him.
N-Naïve
Five missed out on so many things that anyone should have the chance to experience during a life as long as his, and because of that, he struggled when navigating the nuances of anything normal.
There was no doubt that Five was full of wisdom, and he didn’t hesitate to pass that on or place judgment on others he saw as beneath him, but there was also an unmistakable childlike innocence behind his eyes, and an explosive immaturity in his outbursts and in his thinking that he could do this alone.
"How long do I have to suffer!" he screamed, his voice echoing down the subway tunnel, then out into the sky above as the light from the day and another apocalyptic world shone down on the filth covered subway steps in front of him.
Rubbing his grimy hands down the front of his tattered waist coat, he pulled out his journal.
It had been seven years, and he had been traveling the labyrinth of tracks, shooting from one timeline to another, each time trying to jump back to before Ben had been killed the first time.
He’d thought if he could just prevent that, it would finally fix everything.
Five knew his power didn’t work the same as before, but he thought it wouldn’t matter.
It did. It mattered big time, and he’d fucked up big time.
Most of the time, he couldn’t even jump backwards. Most of the time he’d climb the stairs, pull his hands together, trying to draw in the strength to do it, and he’d end up right back at the bottom of the steps, staring up at a world that was no more.
Some days, he’d prove he wasn’t a completely impotent imbecile. He’d reach out at the hands of time, yanking them backwards and he’d be thrown into the unimaginable ether that had always been his domain.
He’d find himself standing in a world with living breathing people again!
Racing to the academy, grabbing anything he could steal and stuff in his pockets or his mouth along the way, he’d feel a flicker of hope.
That never lasted long.
Never finding their real timeline, Five had been attacked, over and over once inside what had been his home, but clearly wasn’t anymore. Sometimes he wouldn’t even get that far, having found himself in a place that was at first glance not where he had meant to be based on floating cars or other bizarre things dotting the skyline.
Out of his mind with hunger and more mentally ruined than he’d ever been, he noted the marks on the floor, a long skid mark from something dragging and that there were three light bulbs out overhead. Fairly certain he hadn’t been there before, looking like a scraggly haired bum that was wearing some guy’s trashed business suit, Five jammed the notebook back in his pocket. Reaching in the other, he pulled out his pistol. Started talking to himself again, his feet stomped up the tiled stairs to the street.
“If I see that little fucker again, and he shoots at me, I swear this time I am going to go over there and choke the shit out of him,” he growled, referring to the fun of being shot at by another version of himself so many times before this that he couldn’t even remember how many times it had happened to him anymore.
His voice was cracked and hoarse, only adding to the pained sound in it as he cursed himself out. He was beginning to feel lightheaded again from lack of food and from how much his lungs were struggling to match up to the blood that rushed around his body from the mere effort of carrying himself out of the darkness.
When the first piercing sound of the other him’s rifle reverberated across the barren landscape, Five flinched, the full metal jacket projectile missing him by only a fraction of an inch as it blasted apart an already crumbling piece of concrete next to him instead.
Stepping forward, arm shaking as he held up his gun, Five screamed, "Just kill me, for fuck's sake, you asshole! I don't want to live like this anymore!"
Eye narrowed on his scope, the other Five, trying to survive, just like he had done when it was him, with no one but Dolores by his side to keep him sane, pulled the trigger like all the other Fives he'd come across did, for some reason, not even thinking twice about killing the first living person he’d seen in twelve years.
O-Oh, Shit!
“OH, Shit!” Five’s voice shrilly rang out as the solid copper tipped point of the projectile ripped through his left arm, tearing the muscle in his bicep clean through as it flew out behind him, zipping down the stairwell.
Refreshed clarity of the life and death kind hitting him hard and fast as the warmth of his blood drenched the inside of his sleeve, Five got down as far as he could, spinning towards the safety of the subway entrance. 
“At least I fucking hesitated when I saw the Handler!” he breathed, just as another bullet ripped through him, this time nicking bone in his right thigh.
He dropped to his knees.
“Fuck you, you crazy fucker!” he screamed.
He’d asked for it.
It was dumb, but he did.
He knew that he was also a crazy fucker in this situation but that did nothing to make him want to kill the other him any less.
Bleeding out in two different places, Five’s fingers clawed at the ground, and he growled in anger, forcing his body to get back up.
Half falling, half running down the steps, the soft tissue in his upper left shoulder suddenly felt like he’d been stabbed with a zillion fiery needles as the spinning force of the next bullet went straight through his back and out his chest.
Lunging for the doors of the train, Five fell into the closest seat, his eyes wide as he looked down at the crimson bloom spreading across his dress shirt.
P-Pain
As a murky curtain of darkness moved into Five’s narrowing field of vision, he clung to the metal support rail attached to his seat. He knew that feeling the rocking motion of the train as it raced to the next station was a good thing because it meant his powers hadn’t failed him yet, but it wasn’t much to hold onto. Each tiny shift in the track felt like it might kill him.
It hurt to breathe.
Even if he made it to the next stop, there was no way he’d be able to jump back to a time when there may have been a hospital and someone living and breathing to get him there. 
This was it, the end.
 ~~~
As you were disappointingly tossing another aluminum can with a broken seal, this one that had at one time held the syrupy sweetness of what you determined might have been peaches, the pile of rubble you were sorting through started to shift, the smaller chunks of debris skittering down the slope of junk.
“What the-”
Even more odd, you started to feel the ground vibrating under your feet, followed by the sound of a train screeching down the subway tunnel located in the subterranean level of your search area.
Your bag slipped off your arm, scattering your finds on the ground as you turned toward the subway entrance a few yards away.
This made no sense, so naturally you tried to rationalize what you were feeling and hearing.
There was no train.
There was no electricity.
There was no anyone, or anything anymore.
All around you, there was nothing but the remains of long ago destroyed buildings and the sun-bleached bones of the dead.
You lived in a world with no voices but your own, no horns honking, no smells of food carts wafting past.
“Impossible…” you breathed.
By the time you made it down the subway station’s cobweb infested stairs, the doors on the train that shouldn’t be there were opening. Hesitantly coming closer to what you were sure was evidence that you’d lost your mind, the humming of the train’s powerful engine slowed.
There was a feeling of static that shouldn’t be there in the dank air.
The hair on your arms prickled in warning.
Still, you came forward, your boots kicking up thick layers of dust. The fluorescent lights hanging above illuminated the tiny particles slowly swirling in front of you, making everything seem even more surreal than it already was.
The lights inside the train flickered as you came towards it.
You could see a pool of red liquid on the long fiberglass bench just inside the threshold. Even more ominous, there was an array of bloody handprints leading to the motionless blood covered body on the floor.
Creeping around to get a better look at the young man lying there, you kept your guard up, but other than him, the train looked empty. 
Looking down at him again, your breath hitched. 
He whispered your name just as his eyes fluttered closed.
You gasped his name back, then the lights went out.
Q-Quiet
“Oh, my God! Five!” you repeated, not believing your eyes as you dropped to the floor next to him.
He was conscious, but you could hardly see his eyes under his slitted lids, and his words came out so weak you almost didn’t hear them as he said, “You’re not supposed to know me.”
“What are you talking about!” you frantically cried.
His reply to that came as the quietest whimper.
“Five?”
He said nothing.
You lowered your ear to his slightly parted lips.
Thankfully, you heard the softest breaths coming out of him even though he was breathing so shallowly his chest didn’t appear to be moving at all.
Terrified, you did what you could to tighten the necktie that was already pinching the blood flow to his arm, and then you checked the belt he’d already tried to secure to his leg to stem the worst of that bleeding. Rolling him so you could lift the back side of his jacket, you saw the blood-soaked exit wound in his upper left shoulder blade. Having nothing but the scarf you had on to use as a bandage, you pressed it over the hole, wrapping it around him tight, then tucking the ends under his shirt and vest to add pressure. 
Five remained unconscious as you readied him, and he stayed that way as you began hauling him up the stairs, then outside where you loaded him on your cart.
With his legs dangling and his feet nearly touching the ground, it wasn’t the ideal form of transport, but he wasn’t going to make it if you stayed there, or if you left him and then came back with something bigger.
“Stay with me,” you begged, checking one more time to see if he was still with you, then you shoved forward, pulling him along as you thought about what he just said.
Of course, you knew Five. It all started after the war that ended it all.
Dressed in his Umbrella Academy uniform, Five had been wandering for the third day straight, looking for anything he could use to help him survive the apocalyptic hell he’d found himself in. Exhausted, he was about to give up and go back to his blanketed shelter, but then he spotted what he thought was another person sitting over in the toppled mess that was left of one of the city’s shopping centers.
The person was waving at him with the only arm they had left, but as Five came closer, disappointment filling him as he looked down at the lifeless face of a female mannequin, he heard something.
Tap! Tap! Tap! Tapppppp-Tappppp-Tappppp. Tap! Tap! Tap!
The air around him swirled, ruffling his hair as it covered his young face in cinders. 
He stopped and listened, but as everything became still again the eerie quiet of mass death was all he heard.
He started to walk away.
Tap, tap, tap. Tapppppp-Tappppp-Tappppp. Tap, tap, tap.
“Shit,” he breathed, stopping short as his mind processed the pattern. That wasn’t the sound of some random piece of metal flapping in the smoky wind.
Racing towards where he’d thought he heard the repetition of morse code, trapped in the darkness, under layers and layers of broken concrete, you started your distress call again, rhythmically moving a chuck of rock against one of the building's mangled trusses.
You were sure that you were going to die down there, just like everyone else that survived the initial blast only to find themselves buried, but then you hear something break through the quiet.
Someone was calling down to you through the cracks left in the massive pile of building material. You cried back, but it felt way too muffled for it to matter, but it did.
He kept calling out, telling you to look for anywhere you might see light, asking you all sorts of questions that at the time made no sense, like if there was room behind you or in front of you and how much, if you were pinned down, or if you could determine which way was up.
Then, one second you were alone in the darkness, dehydrated to the point of dangerously low blood pressure, your legs hardly having more than a few feet to move, and the next, you were blinded by a burst of light, something solid and warm was behind you and then you were weightless.
When your feet hit the ground back on level ground, your legs felt like jelly and your stomach flipped. 
Dizzily trying to adjust as you looked at the boy holding onto you upright, your eyes slowly moved from his, to the famous Umbrella Academy crest embroidered on his blazer. 
It couldn’t be…
The superpowered boy the world had known as Number Five Hargreeves had been missing your entire life, but there he was, looking about the same age as you even though that was way younger than he should have been.
R-Rain
Looking back at this older Five, his limp body rocking with each rotation of your cart’s wheels, your eyes blurred as tears streaked down your cold cheeks.
As if you didn’t know you had to hurry, the clouds in the west were moving in fast, meaning another storm was coming.
With the strap at your waist digging in hard enough that you could feel your skin rubbing raw, you forced your body to move faster. “Come on!” you roared, gritting your teeth with the effort of moving the weighted down cart over another deep washout in the road.
Years ago, Five had taken you down that same road. 
You could still see it that morning, Five running back to your campsite, his straight white teeth flashing in the sun as he smiled with boyish excitement that made your cheeks feel warm.
Talking about a mile a minute, he told you that he’d found a structure that wasn’t completely ruined, and by some miracle, attached to it, there was even a greenhouse that still had most of the glass hanging in its windows. Even better, inside it there were all kinds of bags filled with unspoiled seed.
After years of fighting the elements and starvation together, you had found your first break from the burdens of the apocalyptic world you were stranded in. 
If you could just get him back there now, it would be okay. 
It had to be.
Your breaths were becoming more and more labored as you went, only becoming worse as you thought about the last day you were with Five. 
That was over five years ago.
It was midsummer. You had been with him at the home with the greenhouse attached to it for several years at that point.
That night, like he always did, Five was sitting at the kitchen table, running over his numbers. He was getting close; he was sure of it. You were both going back very soon, and he was going to stop this all from ever happening. 
Scratching his face as he concentrated, Five unknowingly smeared a smudge of black ink from his fingers down the narrow bridge of his nose.
“Fucking, fuck, mother fucker,” he mumbled as he angrily scratched out nearly half a page of his equations.
Even though you knew he was mad, you couldn’t help it, your breath started coming out of you in little puffs of amusement.
With the heel of his palm dug into his forehead, Five looked up at you through the fringe of dark hair hanging in his eyes.
“A genius with your captivating use of the word fuck, along with you being the savior of the world is sure to drop some panties when we get back,” you’d teased. “I hope you don’t forget me when you have all those other people to glare at.” 
Not waiting for him to verbally retaliate, you turned and raised up on your tippy toes to put your dinner dishes up where the mice wouldn't walk all over them.
Within seconds, you felt the comforting currents of energy building in the air around you as Five blinked. The warmth of his mouth pressed against the back of your neck. 
Brushing your hair aside with his face, his arms wrapped around your midsection, possessively locking you in his high voltage embrace.
“Forget you? Not a chance,” he said, letting his lips tickle the shell of your ear. 
You wriggled and laughed as his fingers started crawling under your shirt. Hot palms claiming your breasts, he began a soothing circular motion, threading his fingers over your nipples until they were hard, and of course it all felt so good being taken over by him that soon he had you moaning his name.
“That’s right. I am all yours,” Five smugly hummed as he continued to pluck and pinch.
Your head dropped back against this shoulder as he kissed along your neck. Moving his awakening manhood against your butt, his fingers slid around your hip, going right between your legs.
“When it comes to panty dropping, your delicious cunt is the only one I’ll ever be interested in devouring, sweetheart,” he promised as his fingers moved faster. “I just need to get us back and then I am going to really destroy you with this thing.” 
To punctuate which thing he was referring to, Five he rammed his cock into your ass.
Mind going bananas over the dirty things Five was saying and doing, your body clenched around his fingers and your legs starting to tremble. 
So much had changed over the years.
You were no longer just two people walking the Earth, fighting to survive.
In that place together, you became each other’s everything.
The sun’s setting rays coming in from the window above the sink reflected Five’s beautiful face next to yours as he burrowed his face into your neck.
“As long as you’ll have me, I’ll never let you go,” he lovingly whispered.
And he didn’t let you go, not until hours later, when a rush of cool air coming in from the window replaced where he’d had his body warmly snuggled up behind you.
Rolling over, in the dim light of the bedroom, you could see Five bouncing around as he tugged on his discarded underwear. 
Hard droplets of rain started pelting the floor next to the bed, but before you could move to do something about it, Five blinked over, shutting the window. Just then, something outside loudly crashed into the side of the house.
When he quickly started to head out the room, your eyes widened with worry. “Where are you going?” you asked.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be right back,” he chuckled. “I need to crank the windows closed in the greenhouse before it gets too windy. I just fixed the levers on the upper awnings, and I don’t want to have to go back to watering everything by hand out there when normally the lighter rains do such a nice job of it for me.”
You could hardly argue with that, or with what Five said next.
“Since you finally decided to let me hump the sweet fuck out of you, I have way better things to do with my free time then lugging around tiny watering cans,” he added, while shamelessly taking in the sight of you laying there naked, except for the thin blanket you’d started to modestly to tug in front of you. 
Already getting to you by being ridiculously sexy, standing there with his hair sticking up everywhere, Five gave you a cocky grin that would make the devil blush. 
“Don’t go anywhere,” he taunted. 
Still wiping the sleep from your eyes, you dreamily replied, “I won’t.”
Looking as wild and handsome as ever, hardly dressed, Five disappeared through the bedroom door, heading out through the townhouse’s back kitchen.
Suddenly, lightning flashed, and the entire room shook so hard you were sure the roof over the less habitable parts of the house might collapse.
You sprung out of bed to the sound of glass smashing.
Running after him, at first, all you could see were darkened plants carpeting the raised garden beds. 
Coming around the small table in the center of the greenhouse, fragments from the broken window above embedded in the soles of your feet, but you didn’t even feel it because Five was lying there on the cement floor, the rain drops dancing in the puddles of red all around him. 
The long shard of glass that had sliced his neck clean open was still laying in the palm of his hand as his empty eyes looked up, staring off at nothing.
Nearly falling down as your foot got stuck in a rut in the road, you knew you needed to keep your mind in the present, but you couldn’t. 
There was blood everywhere! 
That was just like this Five! With him dying as he lay there on the floor of that train!
A cry that was part anger, part anguish crawled out of your throat as you turned, looking back at him on your cart.
“Please say something,” you begged, not sure if he was dead or not because he hadn’t moved or made a noise. “Five!” you screamed, when he didn’t respond. 
The first icy drops of rain began to hit your face.
Then, just as you were going to run back there, Five quietly moaned your name as he slowly lifted his arm, pointing a finger at the sky. “You and the moon in the same timeline, makes sense…both always just out of reach for guys like me,” he said, choking on what sounded like a laugh.
On the verge of full hysterics, trying not to think about the horrors of what happened before, or what that moon and timeline stuff was all about, you dug the toes of your boots in, pushing off the broken blacktop as the deep purples of twilight disappeared in the blanket of angry clouds.
It was raining hard by the time you got back. By then you were both soaked, and Five’s complexion was cast in a deathly gray that made your stomach sink with bottomless dread.
S-Stitches
Other than that odd comment, Five remained mostly out of it as the cart bumped and bounced along on the debris-filled road, but as you lugged him inside almost an hour later, he woke up, full alert.
“FFFFUUCK!” he growled as you pulled him upright with his right shoulder under yours, lifting him.
Dragging his bad leg, you both staggered the few feet it took to get to the front door.
“I am sorry,” you breathed as you lugged him inside, kicking the door behind you to a continuous chorus of his breathy ‘fucks.’
A few seconds later, moving across what at one time had been the home's parlor but now served as the bedroom as well, collapsing on the bed, Five’s wet hair fanned out on the pillows.
Rushing over to place a fresh pile of wood on top of the dying embers in the hearth, Five’s face rolled to the side, watching you as he listlessly took in his shadowy surroundings.
Turning towards the adjacent kitchen area to get the medical supplies you needed, his eyes followed you again.
“Dolores?” he croaked. 
Not done washing your hands yet, you turned. As you figured, he was looking at the mannequin sitting at the kitchen table, but for some reason Five looked oddly confused by the sight of her.
“I am sorry, Dolores,” he said, his voice quivering. “I tried. I really did, but it had been so long, and before that, it was- You know I was try- I was so fucked up. And I- I just couldn’t move on and I- They needed me and I-"
“It’s okay, everything is going to be okay,” you said, trying to calm him as you rushed back, setting your supplies on the bedside table. 
Not stopping, your hands quickly moved over him, undoing the necktie on his left bicep so you could work his jacket off and remove his soiled dress shirt and vest. 
Replacing his makeshift tourniquet, you lifted his right hand, placing a wad of gauze in it before pushing it down over the bullet hole just below his left clavicle. “Try to keep pressure on that if you can. You lucked out. That one missed your lung, but I need to pull these down to see what’s going on with your leg,” you said, having already unzipped his fly, your hands on his hips waiting for his consent.
Five nodded, so you undid the belt cinched around his upper thigh.
Carefully pulling down his blood-soaked pants, not far down you gasped, and not because he wasn’t wearing any underwear.
“Who did this to you?!” you asked, slipping the leather strap back around his leg to pinch off the blood flow again.
“An even more fucked up version of me did it back in the wrong timeline I landed in before this one.” 
Something in your already tense expression must have changed to something much worse because Five’s dazed looking eyes moved away, looking at Dolores again.
“I’m my own worst enemy,” he said, deliriously trying to laugh about it before he continued to ramble things that made no sense. “That day you fell into me on the train, you were being so nice. I felt… I was- I don’t know… I wish I had at least had the courage to accept your offer to buy me a coffee. I wanted to, but I didn’t think I should. All I ever wanted was to have something like that in my life. Someone to talk to, someone to be even just my friend.”
His eyes misted over.
“I blew it, but it didn’t matter anyway. Everything went to shit. My powers don’t work right! I have been trying to get back for seven fucking years and I can’t, and that timeline is ending in a few hours anyway. Everyone was counting on me, and I failed them again.”
Before he said all that, you knew in any normal circumstance it would have been impossible for the Five laying on your bed to be the same one that was buried out in the yard, but your heart wanted to believe differently so badly. 
He looked exactly like him.
He’d known your name. 
He knew the mannequin neither of you were willing to leave behind, because if not for her, he’d have spent a life alone and you would have died.
But he wasn’t your Five. 
Looking even more upset than you were getting about all this, he kept on trying to explain things, telling you about this other world he had been in, and something called ‘The Cleanse.’ 
Wiping the mess of blood off his cold skin, you smeared antiseptic around the jagged edge of the hole in his thigh. Not knowing what else to do to prepare him, you soothingly shushed him. “It’s okay, everything is going to be okay, Five. We will figure it out.”
You wanted to believe that, but you didn’t even know if he’d make it through the night.
Popping some long-ago expired pain pills in his mouth, then lifting a glass to his lips, Five swallowed your offering with no question, half the water going in, and the other half running down his chin.
As you pulled on a pair of sterile gloves, his fingers brushed against the side of your leg. "How do you know me?” he quietly asked. “I never told you my name and you aren’t supposed to be here.”
“Bite down,” you ordered, ignoring that question as you placed a rolled towel in front of his mouth. 
Again, he listened, biting down. 
“You are lucky the bullets that hit your arm and chest went right through you and didn’t hit anything important, but the one in your leg is still in there. I need to get it out before I stitch this one closed, and if you think it hurt when that other you filled you with lead, get ready, because something tells me this is going to be much, much worse.”
Lifting your sanitized surgical tweezer, you lowered the long-pointed ends to the seeping wound in his leg.
Not even close to the casing you needed to reach, Five was forcing air through his nose at a panicked pace and his legs were starting to shake.
Pressing down on his knees, you held him as still as possible as you dug deeper.
As the tweezers sunk into his flayed skin, kicking out, Five howled through the cloth in his mouth, “Ffff-rrrrrrrr-ffffuuuuCCCCCKKK!” 
“Almost there,” you breathed as you felt the end of your tweezers tapping against something hard. 
A few painful seconds later, after pulling the lump of metal back through Five’s torn muscle tissue, you dropped the bloody chunk of metal in the bowl on the table, then went for the needle and thread you’d already prepped. 
“This is the worst one. The others won’t be as bad,” you assured, moving along gently as possible, with the point of your needle pulling through the mangled edge of his broken skin.
After the third stitch, as you began to pull Five’s skin together, his entire body started to quake so hard you had to move over, sitting yourself on top of his knees to keep his legs down.
“Just a few more,” you said, determinedly biting down on your lower lip as he brought both arms up, grasping the rungs on the headboard with a white knuckled grip. 
Two more stitches, and one more pull, and Five’s sweat covered chest was heaving. The faintest sound, like the squeak of a small animal crept out from between his clenched teeth. One more pull and his eyes rolled back in his head, and he went completely limp.
T-Touch
Fevered nights turned into long worry filled days and you never left Five’s side unless you had to. Cleaning his wounds, and then his entire body, no modesty allowed in the state he was in.
Five was entirely at your mercy just like once, long ago, you were at his. 
As he lay there with no shirt, and no pants on, covered in a mound of heavy blankets that smelled cleaner than anything he’d slept on in seven years, unable to avoid it any longer, you explained why you knew him. 
You didn’t even come close to telling him all of it, but still, you could see that what you did say didn’t settle well.
Brining another spoon of thin soup to his lips, stopping you short, Five shook his head. “I don’t deserve this,” he quietly whispered as the shutters rattled against the windowpanes in the cold wind that blew outside.
Moving closer, you set the bowl down. Gently as possible, you pressed a cool cloth to Five’s sweat covered brow. He leaned his face into your hand, whimpering.
Five may not have been starving from hunger like he was the last time he’d found himself stuck in the apocalypse, but the things he’d told you happened to him proved that for his entire life, he’d been starved of almost any kind of touch from someone other than people who wanted to hurt him.
After he’d laid it all out there, you realized helping him wasn’t going to be as easy as closing his wounds. His life started the same as the Five’s you had known, only his took many different turns, all of them bad, leaving him a broken man in the body of a boy again. Then, him saying that he'd lived nearly a lifetime alone with no one there for him but Dolores wasn’t even the worst of it.
That wasn’t what killed his spirit.
In his own words, even before that, he had all but given up, and he regretted that part of his life more than anything. He’d mistakenly pushed his family away. He said that there wasn’t a day as he rode his time travel train to nowhere that he didn’t think of them, and you, all the while wishing so badly he was able to go back and do everything differently. 
Laying down next to him, curling your body around his as much as you could without hurting him more, Five’s body trembled, trying to heat itself as the infection gnawing at him raged.
“None of this was your fault, Five,” you whispered as you watched his face twist with pain.
The fire crackled, the only sound filling the room as you felt for his hand, your fingers slowly running across his torso until you found it at his side. 
You threaded your fingers around his. “Just keep fighting, okay?”  
Shivering, he squeezed your hand back.
U-Unexpected
It was the start of summer, and the sun was shining in from above as Five sat at one of the chairs pulled up to the table in the greenhouse. Breathing in, his lungs filled with the sweet smell of hundreds of ripening strawberries.
It had been months since those first pain-filled nights, and as the days passed it was becoming harder and harder for him not to lose himself to the growing contentment he was feeling.
It was entirely unexpected, but then again, so were you.
Like the twist of fate that made you stumble into him that day on the train, like something out of a dream, there he was listening to you obnoxiously singing along to the CD boombox sitting in the next room. 
‘Y o, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want-’
The selection laying around was slim when it came to CDs that weren’t too warped to play, but watching you shake your booty as you danced around the kitchen made Five totally forget that he didn’t like pop songs.
‘If only I could keep finding batteries that fit the radio… ’ he silently mused while fighting the urge to start belting out the girl empowered lyrics with you. 
Five had an endless supply of scenarios running around in his head of how this morning could go, only one of them was him coming in there, sweeping you off your feet while he sang the blaring lines about making it last forever as he also slammed his body down and wound it all around on yours.
‘You gotta, you gotta, you gotta, you gotta!’ you sang, waving at him as you reached for another handful of green beans to snap.
Thinking about how just a smile from you made him feel hot, and how much he wanted to be your lover, and how he sounded nothing like you or the Spice Girls when he sang, Five stretched his bad leg under the drape of the tablecloth. His muscles still complained but the dull ache was nowhere near what it had been, and even better, he could walk without needing you to help him, or without needing a cane.
Looking over at Dolores who was sitting across from him, Five’s smile soured. “I hated that cane,” he quietly grumbled. “All I needed was a monocle to go with it and I’d have looked like some younger alternate universe jackass version of that monster.”
‘Reginald was many things, an alien included, but in the end, he did try to help you, and you in no way looked anything like him with your cane,’ Dolores reminded him.
Averting his eyes from hers, Five decided it was not worth arguing with her. If he kept it up, you were for sure going to hear it and he didn’t need that happening again. You’d been very understanding when he’d feverishly admitted way too many things about his relationship with Dolores, but…
Yeah. 
Sipping the herbal concoction you’d so sweetly brewed him that morning, Five looked down at the old notebook sitting there. It was filled with equations that were very close to getting the math right for getting back, only he was not the one that had done them.
No. He was not that Five, and at the age of 20, like that Five had been when he almost figured it out, he himself at that same age was nowhere near it. At that age, he almost died of dysentery. 
Five looked down at his own journal filled with scribbled notes about stains on floors, broken vending machines and burnt-out light bulbs. 
Spreading his fingers, palms warming in the sun, just the thought of blinking filled him with that familiar buzz of energy he used to live for. But no matter how many times he tried to blink himself even a short distance across the room, he’d still find that it didn’t work that way anymore, and then he’d be flung out of his purple-colored portal into the subway tunnel where you’d found him.
Five pulled his hands back in his lap and slipped the strap back around the leather journal, closing it as he tucked it away.
He couldn’t get back on that train. 
“The only thing I can promise you if we get on there, is that we will be lost,” he’d told you when trying to explain it. He could do that to himself again, but he couldn’t do that to you.
He felt horrible about it, but you never pushed him on it. You never blamed him. You always said it was okay.
He didn’t get it.
Then, after coming back to the house a week ago from another failed jump, something happened. Hearing him kicking stones along the road as he cursed like a maniac, you dropped your garden trowel, ran over, and hugged him.
Smiling up at him, you said, “Five, you need to stop this. You are breaking my heart all over again by looking so pouty all the time.”
Five knew you cared about him. He knew you cared about the other him, but past your caring about either of them in a way that was more than survival based and simply supportive and platonic in nature, that he couldn't figure out. 
You’d told him so many things about the years you were with the other him, but when it came to the details, he could tell you were holding back.
Not sure what to do about it, but knowing exactly how he felt about you, that afternoon in the yard, not more than a few feet away from his own grave, Five had hesitantly let his hand move up your back, hugging you back. He’d never done that before.
He figured, even if you didn’t feel the same way, it wasn’t like you weren’t already intimately familiar.
You’d held him before…
You’d seen him at his worst, fully exposed, laying there in a bloody mess of tears.
He’d told himself that desperately clinging to the person that meant everything to him, even if he’d fallen hopelessly in love with them was normal. Right?
Fuck, he knew it wasn’t… and neither was having to roll himself out of bed almost every night, taking off like a creeper in the night under the pretense that he needed to take a piss, when really he needed to take care of other personal business involving him grasping his dick.
Worried about him, you’d come outside to check on him more than once, and you’d come very close to busting him beating his meat, but Five wasn’t about to stop sleeping by you if you were willing to keep letting him, even if that meant he was constantly waking up hard with his hands on parts of your body that they shouldn’t be touching.
Trying not to think about that, and if you noticed him accidentally doing that or not, instead, as the sunny sky shown down on you holding him like he was a big man baby, Five tried to focus on the feel of your head resting on his chest and how you were soothingly playing with the hair dangling at the nape of his neck. 
Of course that wasn’t really helping, and because of that, he totally missed that you were up to something more than indulging him like you usually did.
Seemingly totally unaware of what you were doing to him, other than that you were turning him into a worthless puddle of goo, sneakily reaching up, you aggressively started ruffling his hair into a chocolatey nest of fuzzy tangles and unruly waves.
Shocked by the unprovoked attack, as you pivoted away from him, looking about as tickled as you could be over how easy it was to get him, Five’s mouth opened, but nothing came out, and that got you really laughing.  
“Oh my God, Five, I love you!” you breathlessly teased.
“Whhh-ahh…?” 
Taken by either his inarticulate reply, or at how ridiculous he looked, Five wasn’t sure, you came back to him, looking up at him sympathetically. “Five, beating yourself up over this isn’t going to change anything.” You gently brushed a piece of hair out of his eyes. “Maybe let it go for a while and just try to live a little. You deserve that.”
With that, you leaned in, your lips feather soft as they pressed against his cheek, then you walked away, leaving him dying to kiss you back.
V-Voracious, a wanting, devouring, feeling emotions to an intense degree
After that day, and the many others that came after your spicy Spice Girls kitchen bean snapping show of cuteness, Five did let himself live a little more, and you teased him even more, oftentimes tickling him into submission, and to him, it seemed like you might be doing it for nothing other than the joy of watching him squirm. But maybe not.
As you smiled at him from the other room, Five felt what had become his normal feeling of butterflies in his stomach and that pitiful aching in his chest. Doing the daily domestic things, like watching you change the bedding as he busied himself in the greenhouse, he could almost forget about all the bad things that had happened.
His family were out there, yet not. They were frozen in time as far as the space time continuum and his fucked subway time travel loop were concerned. It had been almost eight years since he’d left them, only hours from facing their demise, but to them, if he could get back, they wouldn't even know that he wasn't there to begin with.
In many ways, they were gone, not him, and it had been that way for so long.
If Five could have gotten back, it would start all over. He’d have hours to figure all this out, but he had nothing figured out in the way of helping them. That should have tormented him incessantly like it had before, but now, feeling like he had no other choice but to accept this fate, the last thing on his mind when he looked at you was the Cleanse, or other timelines that were about to be destroyed.
Even more crazy, he didn’t hate himself the way he used to and that was because you didn’t hate him for any of it.
Also, crazy, if he didn’t think you might knee him in the nards, he had half a mind to come over there and toss you on that mattress and show you that you weren’t the only one who knew how to play dirty.
He may not have been able to do anything to help his family or the rest of the world, but fuck did he want to show you he still had some fight left in him by putting those old bed springs to the test, rocking his hips into you to the beat pumping out of the tiny speakers sitting on the table behind him.
Watching you bend over to pick up your growing pile of linens, Five’s smile grew. When you disappeared from view, he called out your name. “Hey, why don’t we leave this work for later? Come out here and join me. I’ll let you beat me at a game of chess, and you can even use the unicorn charm as your queen this time.”
Coming around the corner, you dropped the laundry on the floor and shook your head at him. “I’m the one that lets you win, and we both know you are the magical unicorn around here,” you said, pelting him in the chest with a large berry you just picked from one of the bushier plants near the door.
“Sure,” he mockingly drawled, as he began to water the plants again. “You know I love magically fooling around with this cute little watering can all day because I aim to please the lady of the house.” 
Five grinned. 
“You know…with me being pretty much worthless otherwise," he added, not even looking as he pegged you in the boob with a berry.
The song playing ended and another 80’s song about rains in Africa started. Using the music to cover your footsteps, from the corner of his eye, Five still saw you coming. Just as you were about to come up behind him to rumble up his hair until he looked like an asshole, he turned, tipping the watering can over your head.
The dribbles he let escape ran down the length of your hair, a few of them raining down on your perfectly stunned face.
“Oops,” he said, grinning even wider. 
“Was that necessarily?” you asked, trying to scowl at him, but clearly having trouble doing it.
“Yes,” he smugly replied as he casually set the watering can down.
“Why?” you challenged, your eyes following his every move.
“Because,” He reached out, slowly running a finger across your wet cheek as he leaned in, whispering in your ear. “Maybe I just wanted to see if I could get you wet.”
You no longer looked like you were about to burst out laughing.
Five knew he was playing with fire, but he couldn’t take it anymore. He had to know.
He glanced up at the boarded-up window above, then his eyes met yours again as he quietly said, “I’ll never stop being sorry that I am not him, but-”
“Five-” you started to argue, no doubt planning to tell him it wasn’t his fault that he died and that now he couldn’t get you out of there.
“Shhhh,” he uninterrupted, pressing a finger to your lips to silence you. “I’m not done.” His smirk softened. “I know he loved you, and that’s because I love you. The question is, do you love me too? Like this?” he clarified, lowering his chin, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.
“Five,” your voice cracked with emotion. 
Your lips pressed against his. 
The softest sound crawled out of his throat, moving up through his nose as Five kissed you back, innocent, and beautiful in his not knowing exactly how to do it but doing it anyway. His hand moved behind your head as he parted his lips, letting his mouth move against yours, his tongue just starting to play along your teeth, pushing for more.
From there, with your hands reactively moving up into his hair, pulling him to you even more, his kiss grew deeper and more desperate.
Coming up for air several minutes later, you breathlessly whimpered, “I love you so much, Five. I always will. I just didn’t know if you wanted this with me. You kept saying things that made me think maybe, but then you-”
Hearing that, he frantically started pressing kisses down your neck, then down to your shoulder. “Fuck yeah, I wanted this,” he said as he took your breath away. His trembling hands played at the hem of your shirt before he suddenly stopped and broke away, peering at you.
“Is this okay?” he asked, his hands tentatively sliding up over the cotton covering your back as his excited smile exposed more of his charmingly boyish dimple.
Your reply came with you suddenly lifting the material in his way all the way up over your head. 
Speechless, Five’s intense gaze fell over your naked upper body.
“Holy shit, I was not expecting that,” he breathed. Recapturing your lips a few seconds later, he kissed you two more times, then, still trying to kiss you, he mumbled, "I have imagined doing this for so long, just ask the flowers by the front door that have been watching me jerking off every night. They know just how badly I wanted to see these perky tits.”
You started to giggle over that new piece of information, but that quickly turned into you moaning into Five’s mouth from the feeling of him sliding his fingers over your nipples. Encouraged by that, he continued with his ministrations, slowly and softly caressing you until you moaned even more.
When he released your lips, you let out a small whine at the loss, but you were quickly placated as Five moved his kisses along your jawline, stopping for just a moment to nibble on your ear.
“Gah- ahhh,” you gasped, it felt so good, and to that, Five bit down on your lobe, his teeth stinging your flesh as he pinched your nipples at the same time.
You squeaked, your legs clenching together even tighter.
Five let out a breathy laugh as his lips moved over your ear, seductively whispering, "Was that good?"
“You really are still the same cocky little shit you always were, aren’t you?” you shot back.
Nodding his head yes, Five leveled his lopsided grin at you. “Probably worse,” he admitted
“Take your shirt off, “ you demanded, hardly able to believe how silly and hot he was being.
Happily obeying, Five tore off his emerald green sweater that matched his eyes, tossing it over with your shirt on the floor.
“Better?” he questioned.
“Much,” you replied as your fingers began to graze his skin, exploring the hard expanse of his toned chest, down his stomach, delighting in the lean ‘V’ of muscle leading towards his hips.
As your fingers played along the dark, almost jet black trail of hair leading into his pants, dipping below his waistband, then coming back up so you could rub your hand over his crotch, Five shuddered under your touch, so you increased the pressure. 
“So sensitive,” you teased.
Ignoring that taunt, his left hand quickly found your breast again and his other clamped onto your ass, giving it a hard smack before he suddenly yanked your skirt up.
“You have really been enjoying fucking with me,” he laughed, then said, “and what the fuck is this song talking about!”
With his hand under your skirt, his fingers moved slowly, massaging his burning handprint, and he didn’t stop punishing you there. Five’s fingers stopped just shy of the heat between your legs. There, he rubbed the elastic panty line lying along your groin as he smiled like a fucking jerk.
“This song is talking about a man and his love for a girl, but he’s torn between her and the continent he loves, and please, Five! Please don’t stop!” you begged.
“There we go!” he laughed. “Just what I needed to hear. Keep it coming, honey.”
With that, memories of another Five being ridiculously obsessed with you getting you to cry out his name, blended with this one and his equally interesting quirks and many miss understandings about things that to you seemed obvious. 
Before you could come up with an appropriate comeback, your brain gave out on you because Five’s fingers slid under the thin panty barrier he’d been toying with, moving between your folds, determinedly pressing into your clit.
“Fuck, you are wet. I guess watering you worked,” Five mockingly groaned as he gently kissed the side of your neck, letting the smallest scrap of his light facial hair tickle you. 
Giggling and squirming even more, he gave your neck a little nip. 
“Hold still, damn it, I am trying to finger fuck you to this stupid song,” he laughed.
Hand still jammed in your underwear, Five drew you back with him, the backs of his legs bumping one of the chairs next to the small garden table.
Taking your hand off the hard bulge in his pants, you moved it with your other, shoving him down in the chair with enough momentum to make the legs cry out in complaint as they slid across the concrete. Not stopping, you crawled over him, wrapping your legs around his waist.
“I missed you acting all adorable like this,” you said as cheekily as possible, while laughing at his lustful expression of bewilderment.
Not about to be out done, guiding you up against him even tighter, Five wrapped your lips in a warm kiss that quickly escalated into a heady, deep kiss. It didn’t take long just doing that, and you were both breathing much harder than normal again.
Seductively pulling at your lower lip with his upper teeth, Five looked up at you with his mossy eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. 
“From that first day I was with you on the train, you were all I wanted. I didn’t even know what I’d missed until then. I thought I did, but not really,” he said. “I don’t know why or how this is happening to us over and over, but I know one thing for sure and that’s I am never letting you go again.” 
That was almost exactly what Five said to you the night he died. 
Jolting you from the moment, a near paralyzing fear hit you like another slap in the ass, but then, just like so many times when Five touched you, the next time he brought his lips to yours, your entire body tingled with a whole different kind of all-encompassing feeling.
The air felt alive. 
As you eased your body back into his hand that was tracing lines up and down your spine, Five’s lips closed around one of your taut nipples and his hand lowered between your legs, moving again.
“Yesssss,” you moaned, rocking your hips against his, driving your bottom down against his erection.
Pinned under your weight, Five whimpered and his cock throbbed with so much need he felt like he might come in his pants. Not wanting that, his fingers moved faster, slipping up and down in the cramped space of your panties, and that got you to let up on him, which was both a good and bad thing.
You arched your back as he flicked one of your tits with his tongue. Scraping his teeth along your peeked flesh, he sucked it back inside the heat of his mouth and you ground down on him harder than before. 
Unable to take it, Five’s mouth popped off. “Fuck. Keep. Doing. That!” he groaned as he started with your neck and earlobes again, trailing sloppy kisses down to your collarbone.
Flipping your skirt completely out of the way with a whip of his wrists, Five slid your panties to the side with a quick tug, then the tip of his index finger gently started pushing into your hole.
“Mmmm fff, Five,” you whined, as he moved deeper inside you.
“So…fah-king tight,” he breathed, equally taken by the feel of your body fighting him. He looked up at you with adoring eyes, his worry coming out in his soft words. “You okay?”
“Yes,” you said, your body opening for him more and more each second a part of him was becoming a part of you.
Once he was past knuckle deep, you started to work your body over the hard length of his trapped cock again, totally destroying his pants as his finger started to fuck into you, in and out, hooking and pulling, doing anything and everything he could to get you moving faster.
“Oh, ffff,” you cried as Five, with no warning, added a second finger and then started to dip in and out at the same punishing rate as his thumb circling around your clit.
You pushed yourself against his hand, biting your lip as your body quickly coiled and tightened around him. “Fff-vvvv!” you cried. 
When your orgasm hit a moment or two later, your wet gasps filling the greenhouse, he couldn’t believe it.
Your forehead fell against his. You slowly unclenched your fingers, your fingernails leaving half-moon marks all over his shoulders.
“Did I do it?” Five excitedly asked.
Still hardly able to open your eyes, you nodded, panting, “Fuck yes you did. Fuck, Five…”
With his cock about to rip through his pants, Five pulled his fingers from your quivering cunt, bringing them to his mouth. Smiling as he tasted you, slowly licking a few more times for effect, he said, “I can confidently say that I have never done anything as amazing as that, and you taste so delicious I might never eat anything else ever again.”
Laughing at the absurdity of that considering you knew just how much Five liked to eat actual food, and he could in fact do the unimaginable by traveling through time, even if he couldn't do it the way he wanted to anymore, on doe like legs, you climbed off of him, letting your panties slip to the floor.
“Your turn,” you said, straddling your magical unicorn, your hands already starting to unzip his pants to the sight of his approving gaze of god-like sexiness staring back at you.
Carefully pulling him from the confines of his pants, you’d only given Five’s cock a few gentle tugs and his smug expression was gone. 
“Thank you for this, fuck, thank you,” he quietly repeated, his eyes about rolling back in his head as you lazily pumped him, making him leak even more glistening fluid from the tip of his cock.
Lost in what you were doing to him, Five fingers dug into the seat on the wooden chair.
“That feels so fucking good,” he groaned as you twirled your finger over him, spreading his precum to make your hand move faster as it dropped down over the long veins feeding his impressive length.
When you moved forward, guiding the thick head of his cock through the swollen valley between your legs, Five couldn’t take it anymore. Frantically pushing his heels into the floor, he reactively tried to thrust upwards, but it did him little good because he wasn’t inside of you like his mind was telling him he was.
“Ah-ah-ah,” you warned. “Slow down, old man. I’ll get you there, I promise. I want your first time to be special,” you lovingly cooed.
“This is pretty fucking special. I have waited over 70 years for this,” he growled, trying to hump up into you again but clearly only doing it that time to watch your tits bounce.
Shaking your head at the craziness of it all because Five looked nothing like his real age despite him being that old, with one hand on the back of his neck, your feet fell flat on the floor, allowing you the leverage you needed to ride him. With his drizzling tip pushing all the way up to the height of your belly button, you lined him up, then started frotting, pressing the hot length of his cock against your swollen clit in a sinful game of slip and slide.
“That’s right, baby. Let me fuck you,” you praised, already feeling that lustfully addicting pleasure rising in you again. Yanking his hair to further the fun, Five moaned, but he didn’t fight it, and that only turned you on even more, because you knew how badly he wanted to.
Five Looked like a broken angel fallen from heaven. His beautiful eyes were cutely drowsy as he watched you fucking him, the sweet feel of your sex, your body rocking in his lap, all of it felt like nothing he had ever felt before.
The fall sun was shining down.
The heat building.
The strangest choice for a fuck song was playing on the CD player, the band Todo singing their topical ballad as your bodies worked together to the inspiring rhythm of the drums.
♫  I bless the rains down in Affff-ri-cAAA! 
Five shut his eyes.
The pure love and acceptance he was feeling made the shadow of doubt hanging over him from his own death and from his horrible past feel like it couldn’t touch him.
“Five, look at me,” you ordered.
He did.
One look at you as you rode, unable to fight it, he let out a guttural groan of unrestrained pleasure. Unclasping his fingers from the chair, he ran his hands down, under your ass, lifting and pulling with you, making you move your hips and hand pinning his cock down even faster as you fucked him against you.
He was trapped and so were you, but Five felt anything but trapped as your thighs quivered and the tension built more and more with each pass of his cock thrusting up through your pussy lips.
“Kiss me. Please. I need you to kiss me,” you begged, your words breathless as you worked hard to give him the ride of his life while he sat there like the king of the world, watching you buck and pant.
The second Five’s lips touched yours, you locked your fingers on him tighter, pulling him as close as possible. 
Your nails scratched along his scalp making him fuck up into you harder. 
The chair groaned in protest.
You brokenly whimpered into his kiss, and again, Five felt that strangely familiar burst of energy in the air. 
Your head flung back. You’d reached the edge and tumbled over it again; this time he knew it and he’d never felt closer to you.
He cursed a breathy gasp, his lips parted against your chest as he pushed his pelvis up and down at the same faltering pace as yours. Pulses of his release, a creamy white heat of pent-up pain and love started to spread against the silky expanse of your body as Five moved his cheek next to yours. 
Mouth against your moistened skin, he groaned and hissed. “Ahhhffuuuuucccccckkkkk-ffffff-”
A sticky mess between you as his balls twitched under him, still out of breath, Five peered up at, grinning like a fool.
Just when he thought he couldn’t possibly deserve more, you brought your hands to his face, running your fingers over his flushed cheeks as you tilted his chin up. “I love you, Five. It will always be you.”
You placed the softest kiss along his jaw, then down his sweaty neck. Five’s entire body trembled, as much from the gentle sensation of you showing how much you loved him with the touch of your lips, as in what it meant to him hearing you say that.
You said it again. “I love you, Five.”
Tiny shivers danced up his spine as a low moan resonated deep in his throat. Your mouth continued to move over him. 
“I love you too.” He exhaled your name slowly as you moved your way back up to his lips, your fingers soothingly playing with his hair. 
Right then, no matter how many times you let him have this with you, Five knew he’d never get enough of it. 
As he told you, you were all he wanted.
Now, nothing else mattered. 
W-Why
Autumn days of sunlit leaves floating down from above passed by, and with them, Five’s mind and heart were at peace for the first time in his life. 
Nights with you in bed, hot breaths against each other’s skin as you explored new ways to love each other were everything to him. 
Laying on a blanket, under the stars as the white plumes of your breath made clouds of heat above you, Five was in heaven even if he was in a world of crumbling foundations.
He even had the moon this time.
It was perfect.
You had the greenhouse and a roof over your heads, but you still needed to scout for other food options. Just like the last time he was in the apocalypse, Five spent hours on end each day, searching for anything he could use to help get through the harder times. But now, as he wandered down the stairway into the old subway station he hadn’t been to in months, the pressure of getting back felt almost non-existent. 
Maybe he could trap something alive down there, he’d thought. Rats were awful but you weren’t picky, and neither was he, and rabbits had been hard to come by lately with the colder turn in the weather.
Just thinking about bringing a rodent in the house and acting like he slayed a dragon for you made him smile. 
You loved when he acted stupid, and he loved doing it for you.
Feet quietly moving across the debris filled landing, just then, when it felt like nothing was more important than finding new ways to make you smile, of course that was when fate decided to prove he was wrong.
Noticing a strange mark on the floor at the edge of the subway platform, one he’d never noticed before because the light down there was so bad, Five pointed his flashlight down. 
There was something scratched into the tile, and it was done so poorly he could hardly see it, but it was there, and it was no accident.
Bending down, he slowly traced the intricate circles and paralleling lines done in an interlocking pattern that suggested a mathematical projection of infinite sums, or better put, infinite outcomes. 
His heart sank as his finger cleared the grim from the interdimensional map, or that was what he’d suspected it was the first time he’d seen it tattooed on the chest of the ancient version of him that was dying in the paradox proof chamber back in the Sparrow’s timeline.
Looking around, he saw nothing else. Jumping down to the tracks, Five ducked his head below the small lip where the electrical lines were hung. There was a box that some of the larger lines fed into, and it was directly underneath where the sigil was placed. 
Reaching his hand up, blinding feeling around in the cobwebs and dead bugs, he felt something. 
“No,” he breathed, looking down at the leather-bound journal, his eyes rapidly moving over the pages. 
All of them were filled in, unlike the one he had back at the house. And even more shocking, this one showed the way to get back.
“Five?” you called out, coming down the stairs. 
“Yeah, down here,” he replied, quickly shoving the book inside his shoulder bag.
~~~
Stretching his toes under the sheets as his body came down from the feel of having his dick pushing down your throat, Five dreamily looked down at you nestled between his legs
“I love your hair, honey, but I like it best when it’s like that,” he teased as you looked back at him, stretching your jaw, your hair a total ball of fuzz ball from you romping around under the blankets.
You smiled. “Fuck you, Five.” 
“Fuck me, you say… Sure.  I am game to do that again, only it has to be roles reversed until I can get it up again.”
You rolled out of bed, escaping before he could pounce on you and throw his face between your legs. 
“Aww, come on. It won’t take long,” he whined, watching you trot away.
“I know,” you called back, blanket dragging as you tiptoed the cold floor out to the kitchen to get a glass of water from the cooled boiling pot on the wood stove. 
Coming back, you passed by the fireplace, tossing a few logs Five had brought in the night before. Moving on, you stopped at the bookshelf, eyeing up the selection that had grown substantially since Five had gotten there. 
Still lazily lying in bed, he smiled, knowing you were going to pick something and ask him to read it to you while you snuggled on him in bed until mid-day. He loved the bitter temperatures that had settled in because it meant time outside was limited and there was more time for this.
While crossing his arms over his head, looking around the little home that he shared with you, Five started to smile again. The shelves in the kitchen were covered with canning jars filled with the evidence of how hard you had both worked to prepare for the winter. While he was thinking about how the massive amount of work involved in living this way did nothing to diminish how happy he was, something over by you hit the floor with a thump.
Five hadn’t noticed you stepping up on a chair to reach the highest shelf, but you had. Now you were getting down, looking at what had fallen.
His heart was suddenly beating so hard it felt like it might rip out of his chest. Too late, he threw himself out of bed, snatching his pajama pants off the floor as he rushed over, one leg in, and one out of the cold flannel.
“What is this?” you questioned, rapidly turning the pages in your hands. “Five?” you said again, waving the notes you’d just found wedged behind the other books.
“It’s my journal,” Five said, still pulling up his pants as the worried line between his brows grew deeper.
“I know it is, but it’s not that one,” you said, pointing to the other on the table beside the bed. “This one is…It looks like you figured it out…. The key to the subway map is all filled in.” 
You quickly turned to the pages that Five already knew were there, the colorful triangles and circles and squares and numbers that had made no sense were all noted with his handwriting, explaining what they meant and how to navigate them. Trying to make help sense of it, you’d looked at it so many times, but like him, you’d gotten nowhere.
Five reached for the book, and as if you’d lost all your strength, the journal fell into his hands. Your voice tremored. “Where did this come from?”
“I found it under the edge of the subway platform, next to the tracks.”
“When?”
“Months ago,” Five flatly replied, his voice coming out steady, even if he wasn’t.
Your eyes glossed over. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
As he looked into your hurt filled eyes, he felt like he was dying as he said, “You know why.”
“Five,” we can’t stay here pretending there isn’t something we can do,” you said, saying exactly what he knew you’d say.
“What can I do!” Five all but screamed, making you jump back, and that only made him look even more upset.
Ashamed that he’d just done that, his entire body shaking, Five’s hands came up, covering his face, the journal falling to the floor as he started to ramble, “I can’t lose you! I can't help them! I-” 
He breathed your name, much quieter before starting again. 
“If we go, there’s no telling what we’ll find back there. My family and I didn’t know what to do before I left, and I don’t know what to do now. Having you with me is the last thing I want if I go back to that place. Don’t you get it!” he cried, losing it again. “That timeline is just another like this one that will be destroyed, only this time, nobody is going to survive!”
“So this is it?” you quietly asked.
Five looked up and only then did he see the tears rolling down your cheeks. 
“Isn’t this enough?” he asked, his voice cracking.
You came closer. “Five, you will always be enough for me, but-”
When you didn’t finish the ‘but’ and instead chose to wrap your arms around him, Five sucked in a panicked breath, his entire body shuttering. 
Feeling worse, but slowly getting a handle on himself and what this meant, eventually Five forced himself away from the safety of your embrace. His voice lacked any signs of weakness from his melt down when he looked at you and said, “We are going back.”
X- X-factor, as in an exceptional quality or talent that sets someone or something apart. Not so much what the gang is displaying here.
Escorting you along the snow-covered sidewalk leading up to Diego and Lila’s house, trying to be optimistic, Five said, “Maybe they figured it out after all. Everything looks normal.”
Opening the door, Diego’s eyes widened as they moved from you to his brother. “What do you know? Five finally decided to join us and he’s not alone!” he called out just as Klaus came to join him in the entryway, shoving a handful of trail mix in his mouth.
“And who’s this,” he questioned, wiggling an eyebrow at you.
Five was still trying to introduce you when Lila came over interrupting. “Awwww,” she said, scowling at Five. “It looks like hell really did freeze over because you brought a real live, non-plastic date. You’ve clearly been busy, though not surprisingly busy doing nothing to help us figure this stuff out with Ben.”
“We don’t know where Viktor is, or Benny and his Jenny,” Klaus chimed in, “but that doesn’t mean this Cleanse stuff is happening. Dad lies all the time.” Looking puzzled, he looked down at the floor. “Actually, I don’t know what’s going on. Allison and Claire Bear just dug me up from a pet cemetery. I’m still feeling a little shaky about all that and for other reasons too, so I haven’t really been much help either.” 
He glanced at Claire, and she smiled. “It’s okay Uncle Klaus. One step at a time We’ve got your back.”
Coming your way, dressed in a track suit that way too small for him, Luther said, “Hi, I am Luther. Not sure if Five told you about me.”
“Five, told me all about you. It’s so nice to finally meet all of you,” you said, smiling at Luther, then Five, who was already looking like his head might explode.
Luther turned his goofy grin at Five, giving him a not at all discrete thumbs up as he whispered, but not quite enough that everyone else didn’t hear it. “Nice job!” Suddenly looking confused, he added, “Are you together, like together-together? Not that it matters, it’s just Lila is right. You don’t date, and we’ve never seen you with anyone other than Dolor-”
“Woopsie,” Allison said, walking past, smacking Luther on the back of the head.
Letting out the breath he’d been holding, Five angrily spat, “She already knows about me and Dolores! And not that any of you give a shit about my life, but yes, we are together! I am madly in love with her and for some reason, she loves me back!”
“Ohhhh. I love this… When did all this happen?” Klaus excitedly asked, totally engrossed in the drama unfolding as he sat down on the couch with his bowl of trail mix on his lap.
“Recently.” Five heatedly replied. “And that wasn’t all I was doing, Lila!”
Five raised his voice as he glared at his sister-in-law but that only made her challenging smile even brighter.
“I have been gone for almost eight years,” Five raged at her. “I tried to use my powers to go back in time to save Ben but instead got myself trapped in the apocalypse again where I topped off that series of epic mistakes by getting shot by another me. I would have died if not for her being trapped in one of the apocalypses I ended up in, and believe it or not, that one was on me too! So go ahead, start lying into me about how this is all my fault! Sloane! Your discontent in marriages and your fucked up lives! The Cleanse! Everything! Let me have it. I have heard it all before!”
“I told you that you needed my help,” Lila irritatedly huffed, as she pulled a sticky chunk of red licorice off the front of her shirt.
As Five moved his bitter gaze to Luther, the big guy frowned. “I never meant to blame Sloane on you,” he said very sheepishly. He looked at the others for help but wasn’t getting any. “I am sorry… I was so… And I didn’t mean to-”
“Wait. Hold up…” Claire interjected from the sidelines where she’d been quietly watching the showdown. “You tried to save us, all by yourself?” She looked from her angry Uncle to her mom, clearly confused. 
Allison smiled at her daughter. “Believe it or not, you Uncle Five is the most selfless jerk you’ll ever meet, and he’s right. We have been pretty awful about things since he’s been back, and that’s because like him, we are jerks whose lives are a mess, but that is not his fault.” Turning to Five, she said, “We love you, Five, and I couldn’t be happier that you finally found someone, even if it was in a place you never should have been to begin with. Funny how that shit works. I can tell you all about it and Ray would too if he were still around, but…he’s NOT.” 
She raised her drink, pounding all of it as she flopped down on the couch next to Luther.
“I am sorry, buddy. I didn’t even know you were gone. We love you; you know that right?” Klaus said, coming in for a hug. 
Just then, totally taken off guard because he was looking at you grinning at him with that, I told you so look he knew was because you’d told him time and time again that his family love him, Five was ambushed by his ghost whispering brother’s smothering affections, double cheek kisses and all.
“I am so glad your apocalyptic badass woman saved you, little guy,” Klaus gushed as you started to giggle over what Klaus had just called you, and at Five trying to get away from Klaus’s impressively strong clutches.
Ducking out of his grip, just then, Grace came running in. “Uncle Five! You have to see what Mr. Pennycrumb can do! He can blink just like you.”
“Hey, kid,” Five breathed, coming down to her level to watch as she excitedly flew her electronic dog around extra fast, hiding him behind the Christmas tree before popping him back out again.
As soon as his daughter was done showing off, looking serious, Diego pulled Five to the side. Just as fast, you were surrounded by the rest of his siblings, having gotten pulled down between Luther and Allsion on the couch, with Klaus on the floor at your feet, all of them firing questions at you about your time with their brother.
Scrunching his lips in a way that made his dad mustache look extra dorky, Diego said, “That sounded bad, minus the badass chick saving you part. You okay?”
“Perfect,” Five shot back, trying to smooth the rumbles out of his suit. Giving up, he muttered a few curses, then hearing something about if you were married or not, he looked over at you, tensely flattening his lips as the muscles in his jaw tensed. 
He was about to angrily spout off on all of them again, but looking flushed by amused, you shook your head, warning him not to do it. 
About to lose his mind and not sure what to say about the marriage thing anyway, Five’s mouth snapped shut.
“Oh, my God!” Lila cackled. “I think I love her already,” she laughed, nudging Five in the shoulder before coming over to you, asking, “Do you have superpowers too, because the way you shut down that little ankle biter without saying a word was bloody brilliant. You have to teach me that trick!”
“Ahhh. No powers here,” you laughed. “I think Five and I just have a good understanding of each other.” You looked at Five, widening your eyes comically at him because you could totally see why he maintained that his family were a hard pill to swallow.
“So... I did the CIA thing,” Diego said, moving right along.
“And how did that go?” Five breathed, overwhelmed, but trying to dial it back for the kid’s sake and yours.
“It didn’t. Turns out, it’s not for me. Lila and I had a talk, and we are doing better. My life with them means everything, I just needed a reminder. Thanks for giving it to me,” he said, looking down at his oldest, who was sitting on the floor in front of the TV. Slapping Five on the back a second later, he asked, “So, are you still the oldest virgin alive, or did you guys S-K-R-E-W?” 
“That is not how you spell screw, dad,” Grace corrected as Diego pulled a condom package out of his wallet, then pulled open Five’s back pant pocket, stuffing it in.
“Just in case you need it, man,” he clarified as if Five didn’t get it. “Kids are great, but not sure you're ready for all that complicated stuff yet with you being a scrawny teenager still.”
“I am not a teenager!” Five raged, “I’m 26 for the 2nd fucking time, so that makes me 71! I shouldn’t be surprised by any of this, or you not getting that, but I am! And that means for a room full of people given powers not typically seen in any other humans, all any of us can claim is that we’ve excelled at being extraordinarily stupid! There is nothing exceptional about any of us! The world could still be ending in a few hours and Luther is over there shoving whole popcorn balls in his mouth!”
“Thaaairr-rrealleeegoo,” he mumbly defended
Unfazed by her dad being stupid or her favorite Uncle flipping out on everyone, Grace pointed at the TV screen, asking, “Is that Uncle Viktor hanging out with all those weirdos surrounding the mall?”
~~~
Hours later, blinking out of the way of the gigantic blob monster Ben-Jen thing, portal violently crackling, Five reappeared in the subway station, his back slamming back down on the cement as you landed on top of him, knocking the air out of him.
Heart racing as he choked on the air fighting to get back inside his lungs, with his useless gun still in his free hand, Five rolled over, pulling you up.
“I’m sorry,” you needlessly apologized, hardly able to walk as you clung to him. 
Your head was spinning from the jump, and from getting thrown out over the second-floor mezzanine by Luther just before an arm like appendage of the Ben-Jen Cleanse blob latched on to Five, who had just wrapped his arm around you to blink you out of there.
Not stopping, Five helped you inside the waiting train, the doors closing as he sat you down, and then he joined you, staring at the ground as he gently ran his hand up and down your back.
“I am not abandoning them,” he said, almost a whole minute later, finally looking up. 
“I know.” Feeling less green, you moved closer, lowering your head to his shoulder. 
“I can’t save them in any other way but by leaving. I need to buy us some time,” he explained even though he didn’t need to, you were there. You saw it all.
Viktor tried to pull the marigold from Ben, but it was too late. They all had fought back, but they were losing badly. Like Five had told you in the first days he was with you, they were never meant to win.
His head dropped back against the side of the train as it swayed, aimlessly moving through the tunnels.
Five couldn’t even begin to pay attention to the stops as they came and went, another gloomy station of nothingness, and then another, and then another. 
With no clue what to do, he sat in silence with your hand in his.
At some point, your mental exhaustion got the best of you. Slumping against him, you drifted off to the feel of his shallow breaths against your temple.
Y-You
“Five, what is this place?” you asked as your sleep filled eyes followed his towards the glowing sign that said, “Max’s Delicatessen.”
“I have no idea,” he breathed, cautiously stepping out of the train. 
At the unexpected sound of someone saying your name, Five pivoted, protectively throwing you behind him.
The dark-haired young man you hadn’t noticed was sitting on one of the benches near the tracks laughed, then he said, “Don’t worry. I mean neither of you harm, and to answer your question since he can’t. This is the place all of us end up at some point when our time is up. That’s if we make it this far. Most don’t.” 
Getting up, the suit-wearing stranger who was a mirror image of Five, folded his newspaper under his arm and strode your way, extending his hand. 
“Hello again.” He gave you a charming grin, his eyes mischievously sparkling. “It’s been a long time, but I see that your pretty smile hasn’t changed.”
You hadn’t been smiling, but now you were, and that only made the Five at your side look even more hostile.
Unbothered by that, the other Five turned on the heel of his shiny dress shoe, casually waving you along as he said, “Come inside. We need to have a chat.”
A second later the steel bell hanging above the door rang and at least a dozen more Fives inside the deli looked your way, all of them eyeing you with open interest.
The Five you were following sat down in one of the open booths in the middle, gesturing for you to join him. Still shocked into a silence that was making you all the more nervous, Five moved into the opposite seat, pulling you in next to him on the inside of the booth.
The Five that had greeted you flagged over a waiter version of himself as he rushed by, and he swiftly leaned in, filling the cups in front of everyone.
No sooner was it poured, than next to you, Five picked up his white porcelain cup, tipping the entire contents back in one long slug. 
“It’s been a long time since you’ve had coffee this marvelously shitty, I take it?” The Five across from you chuckled as the still hovering waiter came back around. As he refilled your Five’s cup, his fingers brushed past yours on the handle of your mug.
“Need some sugar or some cream in that, sweetheart?” he asked, as the dimple in his cheek deepened.
Your Five turned his glare at the Waiter Five. “She can get her own cream, so fuck off, and yes…” he hissed at the Greeter, “It’s been a while since I had coffee.” 
Five was looking at the Waiter like he might kill him, so you squeezed his leg from under the table. After that, he took a much more civilized sip of his drink, but the warning in his eyes remained as they darted around the diner, meeting the curious eyes of all the other Fives.
“I am betting the lack of caffeine wasn’t nearly as awful this time around when you had such a lovely companion there with you in the apocalypse. She was with you, I presume…? That’s if your story parallels that of some of these other lost boys in here.”
To that, your exceedingly twitchy Five glanced at a very young looking Five wearing his Umbrella Academy uniform. He was sitting next to the door with Dolores. Staring back at the kid version of him’s baby face, Five’s own features pinched with confusion.
Seeing that they weren’t going to get any juicy details on his relationship with you, the Greeter said, “Okay, cutting to the chase then…?”
“Please,” Five cooly replied.
Obliging, the Greeter said, “Every one of us here tried to fix this mess and couldn’t. Now we are here doing anything we can to help the other Fives who still have skin in the game. Which are the lucky bastards like you. So, how can we help?”
Flipping his hair out of his eyes, Five asked, “Will going back to our first timeline and then jumping back to prevent Ben’s death change any of this?”
“No,” the Greeter Five replied.
“Would stopping the original Reginald from releasing the marigold in the first place be enough to fix this?”
“It would be, but we can’t do that. He didn't release the marigold on Earth. He did it on his home planet and then it got here many years later. We don’t have the ability to jump from one plant to another, and Reginald’s ticket here was one way. Doing that also means we will never be born. So again. No.”
With his foot agitatedly tapping under the table, Five shook his head. “What else is there that we can work with?”
The Greeter laughed. “Us. We are the problem.”
“Explain,” Five shot back.
Tiling his head to the side, the Greeter grinned at you then looked back at your Five and sighed. “The marigold that caused our births was the catalyst, and we were the by-product that never should have been. We set it all in motion by existing. Our births are what caused a ripple effect that split the timelines. They never should have happened, and because of that, we get an endless cycle of nature trying to correct itself.”
Five’s hand tightened around yours. “The apocalypse and the Cleanse.”
The Greeter nodded. “Exactly. Every one of them, and on and on it goes. We are at one million five hundred thousand, eighty-two tries to stop it at this point and we haven’t, but we are still going strong.” 
He laughed at that, his eyes moving to the Five in the corner booth who was tipping back a bottle of whiskey with about half of it running down his chin. 
“Well, most of us are still trying. Drunk Five, not so much,” the Greeter cynically added.
Not happy about that, the Drunk Five, sloshing his bottle all over his table started in. “You are missing shit as usual! There are things bigger in this world than new elements that can spontaneously create superpowered assholes and then later devour them for no good fucking reason other than an arrogant alien asshole named Reginald had zero foresight!” he shouted.
“It was Abigail who created it,” one of the Fives playing cards flatly corrected, while dealing another hand to the Five across from him. 
“Whatever! Still an asshole!” Drunk Five insisted, getting even more worked up. “Real power has nothing to do with what they gave us! It’s in here, only all you self absorbed morons have no idea what it means to feel it!” he declared while trying to point a finger at his heart, but when he almost dropped his bottle, he ended up dumping booze on his crotch instead.
Looking like he was about to cry, the very drunk Five looked over at you. “I- I’m,” 
He said your name, proving the Greeter Five wasn’t the only one who knew your name.
“I tried to save you. I tried to save all of them, but I didn’t see the right way to do it until it was too late,” he sobbed. He set his bottle down, ringing his hand through his hair as he looked down at the table. “I would have done it. I would have sacri-”
A Five wearing an apron stepped out of the kitchen, slapping a hand over his drunk doppelganger’s mouth as he said, “Zip it before you fuck this up royal, nob shine.” 
Looking at you with a gleam in his eye, the kitchen Five bent down, whispering something in his captive’s ear, then having quieted the Drunk Five, that Five came over, placing his elbows on the back of your seat, joining the party, and again you were greeted with a smile and excited green eyes.
Reaching over to playfully twirl a piece of your hair around one of his fingers, the Five from kitchen looked to the Greeter Five then to your Five, saying, “Perhaps while you boys continue this conversation, it would be best if I take the lady in back to show her how I tenderize my meat?”
“Not a fucking chance,” your Five snapped back as you let out a small but very hysterical sounding laugh.
“Actually, that might not be a bad idea,” the Greeter agreed.
“She isn’t going anywhere with any of you!” Five fumed, standing up to get in the face of the kitchen Five that was invading the booth.
Someone in the kitchen who sounded like Five laughed, yelling something about soup and sore his meatballs, and just then, the bell above the door chimed.
A much older, white-haired gentleman with a mustache came in, throwing his hat on the coat rack as he took in the scene. “Jesus fucking Christ, why does it always have to be a freak show in here,” he grumbled.
The very young Five at the booth with Dolores tipped his margarita at him in agreement as your Five opened his mouth, starting to flip out again, but right then, the Waiter Five appeared from the kitchen, plate in hand, swinging by your table to drop a thick sandwich stacked with pastrami in front of the Greeter. “Here you go, extra sauerkraut, as you requested.” 
The Waiter looked over at you, his wicked grin grew. 
“Why do you always have to fuck shit up, Briket Five?” the Greeter snapped at the Five still playing with your hair. “Nobody wants to eat this shit covered in fermented slop but you!” 
“Shut up and just eat it,” he replied while giving you a naughty looking wink.
“Brisket Five?” you asked.
The Five in question nodded. “Yes, but you can call me whatever you want, love.” 
He got up and walked towards the kitchen, after your Five swatted his hand away, but getting him off of you made Five look no less pissed by the exchange. “We need to get you out of here,” he said as he started to slip out of the booth, but coming past your table, the old mustached Five nearly plowed down the Waiter, who then rammed into your Five blocking his path.
As he looked at the commotion going on at your table and all the Five’s sizing each other up, the older Five gruffly said, “Not sure what these morons have been telling you, but I am so sick of their shit that I am about ready to shove that mop up someone’s ass. Nobody is going to enjoy that other than Janitor Five, so I’ll give you some straightforward advice that might help us all out of this mess instead. Don’t try to save the world this time.”
The Five with the mop laughed. “True on both accounts! I’m down with an anal mop fucking as long as you go gentle on me, and when it comes to fucked up shit I haven’t tried, not saving our asses is the only thing I haven’t done, so I say yes to that too,” he shouted, then went back to moping the mess under Drunk Five’s table.
Mentally on overload, next to you, in his head, ignoring what the weird mop fucking stuff was all about with the Janitor Five, your Five repeated the words that had been haunting him since the first time he’d heard them coming from another much older permutation of himself who was dying in a paradox proof bunker.
Don’t try to save the world…
As if that wasn’t enough to shake him, still reeling with deja vu, the Drunk Five called over, “We need to destroy the marigold!”
“Please shut him up before he really scares her even more than h already has!” Greeter Five shouted.
With all the other Five’s too busy glaring at each other, the Drunk Five went on even louder, this time declaring his love for you, and because of it, you looked even more rattled by the chaos of all the versions of Five scattered around you, mostly all of them losing their shit or making lovey dovey eyes at you.
Coming out of the kitchen with a frying pan in hand, Brisket Five said, “Holy shit, someone should have thrown him outside hours ago.” A second later, he pulled back to swing, and a second after that, DONG! Drunk Five was lying face down, drooling on his placemat.
“To that, we agree,” the Greeter said, looking at you worriedly.
As if Brisket Five hadn’t just potentially concussed or killed the inebriated version of himself, the Waiter Five shimmied back into the mob around your table, refilling all the coffee cups, acting like all this was all totally normal.
Next to you, Five looked like he was about to blow a gasket. Unable to get out of the booth, he was about to vault the back of your seat and start stabbing out the eyeballs of the other Fives with his sugar spoon.
Coming over, Brisket Five said, “As you’ve noticed some of these lesser evolved douche bags in here aren’t that well-mannered, and Old Five is not much of a socialite, but he’s not wrong, and neither is Drunk Five over there. They are onto something, but our gracious Greeter here, and some of the others like to think there still has to be another way that doesn’t involve our way of thinking.”
“It makes sense that statistically, there is!” the Greeter Five growled, to the dickish brush off wave of the frying pan that Brisket Five just gave him.
After threatening the Greeter, Brisket Five, looking at you in a way that made you feel all sorts of warm, he said, “Did you know that there is a quantum entanglement thing going on between us?”  
“There is nothing going on between you two,” your Five snarled.
“Sure, there is,” he reaffirmed, giving the Greeter a pointed look that made your Five and the Greeter suddenly look much less sure of themselves. 
Coming too, looking even more upset now that he just got his head bashed in, looking at you, Drunk Five started rambling. “We have something that binds people through time in ways that no one will ever understand. It’s why we ran into each other in the first place, and it was why you were there to save me, and I was there to save you! It’s an inevitability… It’s as simple as that! We just need to believe in that this time and maybe-”
“It’s wishful thinking and we need more than that,” the Greeter interrupted.
Looking very annoyed, Brisket Five said, “There are some of us that like to pretend it’s horse shit based on fairy tales and lovesick delusional nonsense, but the concept of a love-based entanglement is very real.” He looked at you again. “No matter how far or how we get pulled apart in the mess of time, we will always remain connected. It’s like that with a love as strong as ours.”
“You don’t know her and you don’t love her! I do!!” your Five snapped
Brisket Five looked at the Greeter, both of them smiling knowingly, no longer looking like they might kill each other.
“Five, what is he talking about?” you asked.
“I don’t know,” he shot back, clearly so upset that he didn’t know what to say anymore.
“Sure, you do,” Brisket Five confidently replied. "Let me ask you this…have you ever felt things you can’t explain?”
Five nodded, yes.
Brisket Five reached across the table, placing his hand over yours as he smugly smiled at your Five while asking, “Have you felt it with her?” 
Heat flooded your face.
Your Five said nothing, but he didn’t need to, the other him’s smile turned into a full-on smirk. “Has she told you that she feels it too?”
Five glanced at you, and the other Five’s all trying their best to charm you with their bullshit smiles that made him want to punch himself.
“Ahhhh-haaa,” Brisket Five laughed. “I suppose she might not have told you she has felt that invisible tether that pulls at her heart when you're there and even when you’re not, but Drunk Five’s stories can’t all be bullshit, and I can attest to it because I feel it right now. Something tells me that she’s the special one here, not us, and it has nothing to do with marigold.”
Pulling his lips to the side, looking upset, Greeter Five said your name, pulling your attention his way again. “Hey, why don’t we let them talk about all this crap alone? I am sick of the fighting, and I bet you are hungry for something that is actually edible.” 
Getting up, he offered you a hand. When you got nothing from your Five other than silence, the warmth of the Greeter’s fingers curled around yours, sliding you out of the booth to join him. 
Directing you towards the display case filled with pies, Greeter Five said, “It really is a lucky day. There’s one more piece of strawberry fluff with your name on it.”
Behind you, Brisket Five leaned into your Five’s ear, talking extra quietly. “Look, you’re the first to ever come in together, and I think that means it’s time to end this the only way we can. Our family doesn’t have to make it to the end to get what you want, just the people we love do. We are linked to them, and them to us by something none of us can explain but it is real. Maybe that matters, and maybe it won’t, but at least they will live, and this will stop,” he said, eyeing you as the other Five’s intentionally dominated your attention so you didn’t hear that part. 
Your Five’s eyes widened as he realized what the other him meant.
“All your numbers and asshole logic aren’t getting you anywhere but here again, buddy. You need to let go,” Brisket Five added, trying to smile again but the sadness in his eyes and the pain he felt about it was impossible to hide.
Getting up, he left your Five alone at the booth.
“Just do as that old dipshit said to do this time,” the Five with Dolores yelled out, loudly slurping his margarita to the bottom of the glass.
“Why don’t you give me Dolores and you got stick your dick the pickle jar again and fuck it,” a particularly grumbly looking Five interjected before going back to scowling at his crossword puzzle.
“Five, what do they mean, don’t try to save the world this time?” you said, breaking away from Greeter Five as you came rushing back.
Just then, Drunk Five started in again, this time getting up from his booth, heading your way, cutting you off. “Don’t worry. We can help. We will come with you this time. Then-” 
He almost fell, his hand swinging out to catch him on the divider between booths.
Dizzily looking at all the others, then you again, he said, “We will keep the Cleanse busy, distracting it, and we will get Ben and Jennifer out of it.” He looked at your Five, a silent understanding happening between him as he lied. “You get everyone back to the academy. Viktor will have time to pull this shit out of you, dump it, and then you get the hell out of there. If you win, we all do.”
Reaching down, instead of vomiting, which he looked like he might do, Drunk Five pulled up two heavy double barrel shotguns that you had no idea were sitting next to the mostly quiet CrossWord Five who was now also suddenly getting up, pulling two guns from his shoulder straps.
“I’m in,” the Waiter Five said, dropping his coffee carafe in favor of the potato peeler he just pulled out of the bin full of dirty dishes sitting on the next table.
Greeter Five walked over to the fire box, smashing open the case, pulling out the ax. “Fine, Let’s fuck that blob up,” he said while giving you an extra cute grin that left you even more speechless over how quickly they’d all came together.
Almost all the Fives were suddenly packing, Brisket Five included, grinning at you from over by the check-in desk as he twirled a large butcher knife around, pointing it at his head, trying to get you to laugh over how crazy they all were.
Drunk Five swooped in, wobblily kneeling at your feet, his puppy dog eyes imploring you to believe him. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.” Feeling drawn to him, as you shakily wiped a tear from his cheek, he said, “I won’t let you down this time.” Letting your fingers gently run across his temple, Drunk Five’s eyes fluttered closed, his long lashes fanning his cheeks. “I still feel it,” he whispered as that spark of something lit up inside you, his eyes opening to meet yours, his focus entirely on you, unwavering as he was in his heart. “We’ve got this, sweetheart, we always did. Just hold on to me, okay? In here. Don’t forget how much I love you and we will always be together.”
He reached up, placing his hand over yours so he could pull it over his heart.
As your Five slowly, almost hypnotically moved in, looking down at the other him with a heartsick look in his eyes, Drunk Five handed the much older, very resolute looking Five who’d also came over his other shotgun. 
“Enough fucking around! Time to end this, boys!” the white-haired patriarch said. 
~~~
“See you on the other side,” Brisket Five said, while giving you both a look that was nothing like his haughty expressions he’d been maintaining for most of the conversation inside the deli. To you, his small smile seemed to be saying something by saying nothing at all, then he ducked into the other train car that the other Five’s had chosen to ride in.
Stepping in the doors you had come out of when you got there, you watched them a car over from yours, all the different versions of the man you loved as they found their places to either sit or stand, none of them saying a word. 
They looked like they meant business, like the violent ax swinging, hell bent on retribution kind of business, and it was a stark contrast to how out of control they’d been acting inside the deli.
“I promise, we can do this,” Five said, his eyes not leaving yours even though he was aware he had an audience in the next train over.
His heart was beating so hard. He felt like he could jump out of his skin but there was no way he was going to tell you that.
He knew all of the Fives felt it. It was in the air all around them, permeating every fiber of their being. It was the accumulation of all of it. The weight of their endless devotion to the people they loved, the pain of enduring so much for so long, and it was the bitter taste of so much loss and the loss that had yet to come.
You let your fingers trail down the gully between Five’s ab muscles until they touched his waist. “Five, I am so scared.”
He wasn’t anymore.
He looked over at the other car, then back at you, shaking his head. “We have about five minutes, give or take. What should we do with it?”
You said nothing, and tears started to run down your cheeks.
Five kissed you.
His eyes met yours right as you grabbed at his leather belt, pulling his hips against you.
“I need you,” he said, his voice breaking.
The smallest noise escaped his mouth as you snaked your body against his. The warmth of your body flooded his senses, tingling from his toes all the way back to his groin.
The rapid rise and fall of your chest matched his as you kissed him with equal desperation, shaking him to the core.
With a suppressed moan, Five took you by the shoulders, pushing you down on the seat. Coming down to his knees in front of you, making is where some of the others couldn’t see you, he settled his body between your legs. 
He pushed your knees apart even more, then locked his mouth on yours again, his tongue thrusting inside urgently.
Clutching his shirt, you slid closer to him, until your hips met his.
Reaching for his pocket, Five closed his eyes and swallowed.
He pulled out the condom Diego gave him. Realizing what he was about to do, you snatched it and chucked it over his head, then immediately started unlatching his belt, sliding his zipper down to gather him in your palm.
“There is nothing that can ever come between us,” you said, nearly repeating what all the other Five’s had been saying but saying it meaning so much more than that. 
Five’s body involuntarily fell forward as you stroked him.
“I love you,” he breathed. It came out unsteady, a streak of hot liquid slipping from his eye no matter how much he willed it not to.
You fisted the back of his pants, drawing him closer, the deed earning you a low mewl emanating from deep within his throat.
You kissed him and brought your legs up around his waist.
His pants, already undone, slipped down his thighs, catching in a bunch of material above his knees as his cock bobbed between your bodies, fully erect.
Five moved his forehead against yours. He lifted the bottom of your dress up as you swept a finger over his leaking slit, spreading the liquid gathering down his shaft.
He hissed with pleasure.
Unable to stop himself even though he saw Brisket Five peeking over his shoulder for a second, Five took his cock in hand, and getting ready, your hands moved down behind you on the seat to keep you from slipping backwards. You arched your back, letting out a broken whimper the first time Five’s cock slid up against you.
“Holy shit,” Five breathed in on shaky air as he rubbed his tip across your clit a few times, then he positioned his cock lower, his slicked thickness gently pushing and prodding as he worked it over your hole like he’d never allowed himself to do before.
“Fuck,” he cursed, because that was exactly what it felt like as he tried to sink into your warmth but the tightness starting to surround him instantly fought back.
Gripping his length with more determination, his hand trembling, Five pushed harder. Sweat breaking out all over his body, he felt the pressure surrounding the sensitive bulb of his swollen flesh as your body started to let him inside. He felt your body clenching repeatedly around him as it adjusted and even that was almost enough to do him in.
“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” he anxiously breathed.
Biting your lip as you tried to relax, looking up at him staring back through the dark strands of hair dangling over his eyes, you nodded, encouraging him along with one of your hands winding around his neck and your other sliding around his hip, gently but firmly pushing him to take more.
Five’s lower lip quivered as he did, his hand gripping his base moved out of the way as he opened you, moving so cautiously, as he forced your body to take him.
You sucked in a breath as his hips jerked forward just a little, then back again.
“Oh, fuck, that felt- Fuck,” he groaned.
He drove in, kissing you for just a moment before breathlessly breaking away again.
“We stay together until the end,” you frantically said, “You and me. If you go, I go.”
Five knew why you were saying this. He knew your heart was breaking, just like his. They were all trying to hide the truth, but you saw right through him. 
You always did.
There was only a fraction of space between your faces. With your breathy words on his lips, Five whispered back, “You and me, always, love.”
He slipped out and then back in, bottoming out in one swift motion.
You gasped and he pulled back, then completely stilled until you quickly moved your hands down his back, pulling at his waistcoat so he was forced to dig himself inside you again.
“Don’t stop,” you begged.
One more small thrust in and out and again he buried himself full deep, jolting your body as his fingers dug into your ass, locking you to him as much as he could.
Like he needed air to breathe, Five needed to be a part of you in every way he could in the minutes he had left. Audience of horny Fives be damned. Your heart and your soul was his.
He had to bury his face in your neck to stem the flow of his breathy curses over what his body was feeling as it took yours, claiming it completely.
“You feel amazing,” he puffed against your skin. It took him a few seconds to regain himself, but when he did, you brought your hand up to his hair, slowly carding it through your fingers as you drew his lip to yours. Your kiss was soft and soothing. After a moment, his body reactively started moving again, and your kiss deepened, letting him know he should keep going.
Five pulled his hips back, withdrawing halfway before pushing back into your perfect warmth as slowly as he could manage. But as you started to lift your hips to meet his, his pace got faster, and more confident, and again it felt so fucking good that he had to pull back from your lips to breathe. He went for the skin at your neck instead, tasting it, licking you as he nipped and sucked and wildly drove himself into you with his hips rocking and his thighs thrusting forward, the tips of his dress shoes digging into the floor as he wildly plowed you.
Fighting the urge to let himself come, Five growled, “Fuck this world, and fuck all of them, you are mine!”
The cheers of the other Five’s hearing that, all of them unable not to notice the show he was putting on, only made your Five get louder, increasing the madness of it all.
“You are mine!” he said again, getting angrier, but also not, because his diabolically cute grin said something else entirely.
“Five!” you cried out as he fucked into you harder and harder, shaking your brains loose.
Out of his mind, but somehow still in control enough to bite back the pressure building, Five suddenly started to move in slow, deep thrusts that were sweet and intense, and at first, very calculated. That abrupt change got you moaning like he was slowly killing you, your fingers clawing at his ass as he undulated his cock in and out, deliberately dragging his tip back and forth where it made you cry out his name the loudest.
Despite Five’s valiant efforts to control himself and prolong the thing you’d both been denied for so long, he could no longer hold back when your heels dug into his back.
When he dipped forward, laying over you as much as he could while fucking you on edge of the bench, you kissed the hollow of his throat, your hot tongue slick against his skin.
Just like he finally knew what he needed to do, Five knew that no matter what, he would always have this, even if you didn’t remember it. 
A weight lifting that he’d been crushed by for so long, wrapping his arms around your waist, Five lifted you forward with animal-like passion, bucking into you.
Like free falling, the heat of your release caressed his length as he continued to swiftly move in and out. You were lost, eyes closed, your mouth wide against his shoulder, silently crying out as your walls trembled around him, the feeling of ecstasy not letting up because he wasn’t.
Not until his rhythm began to break and Five could no longer hold back the rising tide did he tell you to look at him.
He locked eyes with you, his hips shunting forward in a stutter of broken motion he could no longer control. “You are the best part of me,” he panted as he started spilling deep inside you.
The whisper of his name on your lips served to move his hips once more, then as you cried his name, another spasm came to close his eyes as his body weakened and his face dropped to the side of your neck.
For almost a minute, Five stayed in that spot, waiting for his heart to slow. But all too quickly he had to withdraw.
As you were both righting your clothes, one of the Fives banged on the glass between the cars. “Button it up! Time to go!”
The train was slowing.
Placing your hand on his cheek as you fought back the start of more tears, you gave Five that beautiful smile that would forever touch his soul. 
~~~
Before setting out of the train, Brisket Five put a hand on Drunk Five’s back as he said, “It’s been an honor watching you slowly trying to drown yourself.”
Pulling his eyes from the floor, Drunk Five looked at the other him who was holding the butcher knife and smiled. “It’s been awful eating that shit you call food.”
Swinging his ax to his shoulder, Greeter Five kicked the Five with Dolores on his lap in the ankle. “You watched the whole thing, didn’t you? Just look at your pants,” he said pointing to his crotch and the boner that he was trying to use their beloved mannequin to hide.
“What,” he questioned innocently while turning Dolores towards him, looking for support. “Can’t blame a guy for being curious… If you fuckers wouldn’t have gotten jealous and started beating off like a bunch of pervs over it, Dolores was game to join in the fun. Weren’t you, honey?”
Smirking as he pushed his back off the side of the train, one of the Card playing Fives let out a little laugh. “He’s got a point.”
“I am not going to miss you fuckers,” Old Five said, smirking at he rolled his eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Big Damnit here guys...
Okay so readers, I am so sorry, but Tumblr cut me off here and won't let me post more, and all we have left is Z!!!! It's so frustrating because it almost all fit on here. The end is worth it I promise, so please read it, it's not that long. I am not doing a separate post on here to end it because those get lost in the ether. So, please forgive me and head over to A03 to this link (Chapter 26, Z-Zion) to go directly to the final part of this story.
Long live the Umbrella Academy and its awesome fans. ❤️
Share your thoughts if you like but just know one way or another, thank you for reading this. It means so much to me.
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inkonparchment · 3 days
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there's a man in the woods | Leon Kennedy
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Leon Kennedy x f!Reader
summary: everything changes when you find a man beaten, bruised and bleeding half to death in the woods.
word count: 3.7k
warnings: horror imagery. unsettling themes. mentions/description of blood, organs, guns. canon-typical violence. injuries. slow burn. eventual romance. hurt/comfort. plot armour goes crazy. language.
a/n: happy reading my dears.
series masterlist
Chapter 6
You heave the axe over your head, bringing it down with full force, splitting the erect log into equal halves, the blade sticking into the wooden stump below with a loud thunk sound. Sweat collects in your brows, rubbing your face into the sleeve of your shirt to wipe it off. A foot up to keep the stump in place, you force the axe out and replace another log in its steed. Your arms feel stiff, like taut cables running up and down, tightened in places. You roll your shoulders, trying to rid them off some their tension before continuing your ignored chores.
The sun is blaring down today, happy to take its spot high in the sky, beating down heat onto your back. You fight the urge to shuck off your long sleeved shirt, wanting to work in your usual attire of tank top but the knowledge of not being alone anymore snaps you out of your daze. You readjust your grip on the handle, tightening both palms around it and bringing it back up to your head again. You grit your teeth, mind flashing back to the upturn of the carpet from yesterday, and swing.
The axe deviates from its central aim, unequally dividing the log and lodging itself deeper. Your breaths come in heaving pants now. All the overthinking you had done yesterday did not seem to be enough, still finding yourself incessantly thinking about it. Your brain had been kind enough to offer you multiple scenarios to justify the supposed disturbance of your usual furniture but nothing seemed to satisfy you. You weren’t even out for that long and with how Leon’s leg was progressing, stairs would have been the last thing on his mind and you’d have certainly caught him in the act.
The breath hitches in your throat; unless he was pretending.
You glance up towards the porch of your cabin, a bead of sweat trickling down your temple, eyes adjusting to the bright sun, squinting to find Leon sitting on your worn out chair, shifting restlessly in it, surely unable to find a comfortable stance. Luna sits next to him, one ear up in curiosity and watching him carefully with a tilt of her head. He says something to her you can’t make out, watching his bangs move as he blows air at them in frustration. You watch as Luna inches forward to his outstretched hand, tail wagging as she allows him to scratch her head.
Tearing your eyes away from them, you wrench the axe out, staggering back a few steps, not anticipating how harshly you had pulled. Maybe you had unknowingly pulled the corner of the carpet when you had come back from the walk, or maybe it had happened earlier in the day. You steal another glance up to Leon, uncertainty brewing in your stomach at how familiar he was behaving around Luna. Should you call her to you? Or was this a sign to consider him to be someone you could trust.
You shake your head, continuing to chop more firewood. Thwack!
You couldn’t even go and check, to throw open the cellar door and inspect every speckle of dust just to see if it was out of place. You may as well drag Leon down there yourself, offering him a grand tour of the place, showcasing every piece of possession down there. He had not acted suspiciously all day, no indication of anything he had done to make every single alarm in your head go off.
If you were brave enough you would have been standing over his head, demanding answers, right from the beginning. But so afraid of what you might find, you don’t. Instead finding it better and easier to stick your head down in hopes that he will leave from your life like how he had arrived; in an instant. You hope that he isn’t a manifestation of your guilt, some karmic retribution thrown in your lap as the heavens sneer down at you.
You kick away the stray piece of wood, making to grab another log. It feels softer under your touch, the bark breaking away under the slight pressure of your fingertips. Strong odour greets your nostrils as you jerk it away from your face. You twist it around to find a dark, burrowed hole. Rot, eating away the pulp and leaving it hollow. You throw it away, far from the fresh ones so it does not spread.
The scraping sound of metal against wood, snaps your head up to Leon where he’s dragging the chair a few inches forward, kindly assisted by Luna who nudges the seat from the back. Heat flares in your chest, burning to your toes, unable to tell if its due to his blatant ignoring of your various warnings of ripping his stitches or the way Luna seems to have adjusted to him so quickly.
So you pick whichever is easiest to explain.
“Stop moving around!” You snap, trying to glare at him but finding it difficult against the bright sun, “You’ve only just begun to heal and you’re going to set back whatever progress you’ve made.”
Leon gives you a sheepish look, settling back into the chair, “Sorry, it’s just that I’m feeling a little restless.”
Yes, you know. His damn walking stick had woken you up unceremoniously from sleep, racing down the stairs like a mad person only to find the contents of his side table scattered on the floor. The look on his face was deep in apology, saying that he was just walking back from the washroom, clearly underestimating the distance he had left to cover. You had inched away quickly from the room, registering the thin veil of your clothes, the cold air making goosebumps erupt on your skin. But not before telling him to be up in the morning for a change of pace. Your heart was still pounding when you had gone back to your room, mind abuzz and trying to dissuade yourself that no, you had simply imagined Leon’s lingering gaze on you.
You set the axe down, leaning against the handle, “It’s why you’re outside. Watch the pretty birds or whatever.”
He scoffs at that, averting his eyes to give Luna a scratch behind her ear. You watch his lips move, unable to comprehend what he’s saying.
“What’d you say?”
“Nothing,” He’s quick to answer, glancing at the axe in your hand. “I could help you with that, you know.”
You shrug your shoulders in frustration, beginning to collect the chopped firewood. Why does he keep saying that? You don’t need his help, you’re capable, you’re fine. You don’t need to fall into the comfort of relying on someone. You can do this – have been doing this for a while now. Alone. By yourself, for yourself. Because he will leave as he is allowed to by the divine decree that will deliver onto him the wood and the tools needed to escape your island of isolation, forgetting you once he passes the hazy fog.
“No,” You grumble, wrapping the cloth around the logs and trudging up to the stairs, purposefully avoiding looking at him. The chair scrapes as you near, Luna pattering aside to give way, a shadow falling over you and stopping you from moving further.
You look up to see him towering over you, one hand gripping the railing and the other reaching out to you, palm open. You feel your throat dry up when his steely blue eyes land on yours, piercing as they seem to look through you. And it unsettles you, again. The familiar sensation of your skin ripping apart open at his mere glance returns, like the divine hands that crafted you breaking you open piece by piece to reveal your truth.
You stare at his palm instead, hanging your head low. You find another scar there, this one jagged and long across his palm. And it almost feels vulnerable, his hurt more visible than yours but still he stands, the hand that once suffered open to offer help. And suddenly you feel yourself overcome with the desire to trace the scar, for your fingers to softly graze his skin and to feel every bump and callouses that litters his hand. You want to feel his warmth seep into your bones, hoping to take away some of his pain.
Luna’s quiet little bark shakes you out of your thoughts, coughing uncomfortably as you hope your voice comes out as natural, “What?”
“Give it here,” Leon speaks gently, gesturing to the load in your hands, “You’ve done enough.”
“No, come on-”
Leon descends one step down, shutting you up as he crowds in your space, making your heart stutter. All you can do is stare, watching as his face comes closer to yours, enough that you can see the soft freckles decorating his face. Your breath hitches in your throat, eyes stuck on the way his features have melted in softness. You can’t look away, drinking in his expression to your fill, desperately trying to quench a thirst that you don’t understand.
The weight disappears from your arms, Leon turning around and limping his way back inside with Luna trotting on his heels, leaving you standing on the stairs. A gust of wind breezes past, enveloping you in its sweet scent.
You follow him in, stopping at a distance to see Leon depositing the wood in the basket next to the fireplace in the living room. You watch as he picks one up waving it at Luna as she begins to wag her tail in excitement, following it with her eyes. He throws it gently at a distance, with an enthusiastic fetch! Luna bounds towards it happily, grabbing it and bringing it back to him with her head held high, feeling ecstatic at the generous head scratches she receives in return.
You don’t know when you start smiling, cheeks protesting at the unfamiliar movement, a sudden fullness flooding your heart. It grows wider when Luna approaches you, tail wagging and ears up in request for sharing in her joy. And you do, crouching down to her level, putting your arms around her neck and burying your nose in her fur. She shares in your joy, sitting down as you pat her, glancing up to Leon. And he’s already watching you warmly, arms folded across his chest.
Shyness takes over, surprised that emotions that you buried deep so long ago are making reappearances, the wide grin replaced with a small upturn of your lips. You become hyperaware of the visual you must be providing; sweaty and dirty. And you can barely meet your gaze with him as you pass him by muttering a “I’ll go wash up”, feeling your heart hammer again in your chest as you climb up the stairs.
--
Dinner is a quick affair.
It’s silent, only the noise of spoons and forks clanking against the dishes echoing in the air as the two of you sit opposite each other in the kitchen. You make Luna sit on the rug now, having better faith in her to keep watch to ensure you don’t meddle down the path of insanity. The silence doesn’t feel heavy this time, seemingly sitting at the table like an old friend.
You can tell Leon wants to say something, it’s in the way he pauses between bites, clears his throat but then decides against it. You don’t push him either, happy to act nonchalant. The dishes are whisked away quickly, Leon grabbing yours in the millisecond when you turned your attention elsewhere, already standing at the sink and rinsing them. He reminds you about the tools. You nod at him, telling him tomorrow.
You bid goodnight, give Luna a kiss, tell her to stay and within minutes you crash on the comfort of your bed, the fatigue of the day quick to pull you under.
Only to be greeted by an overwhelming scent of antiseptic.
The fluorescent lights are blinding, glaring down relentlessly from the ceiling above you, making you squint. You try to move your head, pain shooting at the sensation as you register the strap tight around your throat holding you down, a gag firm across your lips. Panic builds in you, hands jerking to remove the gag but you can’t. They’re tied down, bound to cold metal bars under your skin, loosing sensation in your legs due to the grating knots.
The surface you’re tied down to is hard and freezing, no padding to save you from its harshness. Your breathing quickens, tears stinging and spilling from your eyes, only able to whimper and choke on your own saliva. The thin cloth that covers you does nothing to help against the cold temperature of the room, shivering as you feel stuck, shutting your eyes tight but the motion doing nothing to block out any light.
You hear a metal door open, heavy and creaking, two pair of footsteps scuffling in. Hot tears dribble down your cheeks, finding yourself at the mercy of two strangers, clad in white from head to toe with their faces obscured. They stand over you, unaffected by your tears and thrashing. One peels back the only barrier you had against the two as the other grabs a syringe and spares no time in plunging it in your abdomen.  
White hot searing pain consumes you, the flames eviscerating every fiber of your being, turning bones to dust. Your vision ebbs away, replaced by nothingness but the pain doesn’t subside. It eats you up from inside, bursting your lungs, every rib cracking one at a time, the sound of it resounding and echoing loudly. You gag on your spit, wanting to scream but no voice coming out. The black lines start streaking up and down the whole expanse of your body as you writhe, the two masked strangers dissipating in smoke.
You twist and turn, desperately wanting to be free from your shackles so you can claw at your skin and rip yourself apart. A sudden hand clamping against your cheek stills you. You blink furiously, tears dribbling down your face as your eyes come back into focus.
A knowing smirk, dazzling his teeth, concern flickering in his brown eyes as his long hair is tucked firmly behind his ears, the scent of cigarettes lingering in the air around him. Luis.
Wake up, señorita.
And you’re back in your bed.
The collar of your shirt sticks to your neck, your hands immediately darting to your wrists, rubbing them in comfort. The covers are in their usual spot on the floor, finding yourself panic under their weight. You sink to the floor next to them, palms spread against the cool wood as you try and contain the buzzing sensation in your head, evening out your breathing. Luis, you shudder, god I hope he’s okay or at least better than I am.
You swallow thickly, saliva feeling like sandpaper against your dry throat. Water. You scramble to your feet, hands shaking as you twist your door open, descending down the creaking stairs. Luna immediately perks up at your presence, stretching from her spot where you had left her and padding towards you. The sensation of her soft fur against your leg grounds you, the shake of your hands no longer a tremor as you sip water.
The thought of your bed, images of yourself bound down in your hellish nightmare, makes your stomach churn, chasing away any sleep. You bite back a sob, feeling the walls caging you in, returning to your single sofa in the living room, pulling your legs up, a heaviness occupied in your throat making you sink further. Moonlight streams in through the window, dousing the room with streaks of silver, starkly highlighting your isolation by plunging the walls in its cold.
You pick a spot on the wall across from you, slowly loosening your hold on reality and crawling back to the quiet of your mind where nothing except silence exists. You go numb, everything fading away piece by piece until all that remains is you.
You hear the echo of a thumping sound in the far off distance, the shimmer of warm light trickling your skin yanking you back to reality. You blink. Leon stands with his stick in one hand and the other on the handle of his open door. His hair looks tousled, sleep lines inked across his cheek. But his eyes are alert and they’re focused right on you.
“Alright?” The heavy cadence of his tone breaks the monotony of your home, the warmth and silkiness of his voice enveloping you instantly, returning warmth to your system.
You want to say yes, tell him you’re okay that you just came down to get some water, that he shouldn’t worry and go back to sleep. But you can’t seem to bring yourself to say it, his eyes proving to be compelling and encompassing, tugging an unfamiliar sensation in the pit of your stomach.
A pitiful shrug is all you can offer him, hanging your head in shame.
He hums in acknowledgement, flicking the light off in his room and limping over to come sit on the sofa opposite you, the rhythmic sound of his stick aligning with the beat of your heat. Luna is happy to see him, going over to greet him with a wag of her tail. And you drink in the sight that greets you. Leon is smiling softly at Luna, scratching behind her ear as she gently rests her head on his lap, seemingly content in each other’s company.
Leon’s eyes flickers up to you, extending the smile to you as well. “Want to talk about it?”
You shake your head, quickly wiping away the stray tear that’s halfway down to your cheek. The low lighting in the room makes it easy to face Leon, adamantly still staring at him as he looks over your face, trying to see the redness in your eyes or the blotchiness of your nose. If he sees it, he says nothing. He just looks at you, indulging in the quiet that doesn’t feel suffocating anymore, shrugging the hair away from his tired eyes, softly petting Luna as her eyes drift to close.
“You know,” He breaks the silence, “It just occurred to me that I still don’t know your name.”
Your fingers tighten around each other, pulling your knees closer to your chest, finding your voice. “I know.”
Leon’s smile is gentle, “This is the part where you tell it to me.”
You let out a shaky breath, eyes focusing on a spot over his head. You only offer him a pathetic shrug of your shoulders, “You don’t need it.”
“I beg to differ.” Leon adjusts himself on the sofa, playfully nudging the walking stick, “What if I fall?”
“I’ll hear you.”
“What if I can’t find something in the kitchen?”
“You’re a loud guy, I’ll know.”
He sighs, it sounds more in wistfulness than in annoyance. It’s unfair you think, how pretty he looks in the moonlight, bashful thinking on your end that he was only allies with the sun; it seemed he had teamed up with every celestial body. It gives him a halo, glittering his skin and his eyes impossibly blue. His stare in unwavering as though he’s solving a puzzle, trying to find one end of the thread so he can start pulling to unravel. But all he ends up with is a tangled web.
“Why not?” He gently prods.
“Because,” You say in a hushed tone, “It’s not important.”
Leon scoffs at that, raising his eyebrows, unimpressed. You release your hands, letting your legs fall to the ground, feet scraping the cold wooden boards. And then you whisper it for him, with a soft roll of your tongue into the twilight as though handing him fine china cradled in your hands. You wince at the way it sounds, heavy and murky, leaving a lingering sensation of distaste on your tongue.
But then Leon echoes it back to you, in test and it nearly upends you from your chair. You’re convinced it’s not even the same name. He says it so tenderly, like saccharine dulcet drips from his lips. He says it with such reverie that it stuns you, freezing you in place, a part of you wanting to hear it again, almost pleading but unable to beg. The heat spreads rapidly across your face and what else can you do but look away, hiding the barely there smile before he can see it.
“How can it not be important?” He tilts his head, twinkle in his eyes, “It belongs to you.”
\ A tingling sensation grips you, flooding you from head to toe. You hadn’t heard the sound of your names in ages now, feeling like a hollow echo on the occasion you would say it out loud just to reassure yourself that you had not forgotten, that you were still present and not a snapshot of the past, cast aside as insignificant as the world moved on.
A small laugh manages to make it out of you, “Yeah…I guess so.”
Leon brightens at your laugh, leaning forward carefully so as to not disturb Luna, “I know I’m new here but I’m just letting you know that you can talk to me. I might not be as great a conversationalist as Luna here but I can try.”
You pause, contemplating his offer, heart feeling less heavy than it was mere moments ago. You wonder how he does it, how he managed to pluck away the bug that had been eating away at you for years with such ease. Your heart swells again but this time it feels light as air. So you nod, with a little hesitation and that relaxes his shoulders.
Leon returns your nod, making to grab his stick, carefully settling Luna’s head on the cushion next to him before getting up. He hobbles back to his room and turns to look at you one last time before closing his door. He stops, offering a soft turn of his lips and then gently shuts the door.
You whisper, barely a sound coming out of your lips, “Thank you…Leon.”
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animasolaoriginal · 3 days
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I n f a t u a t e d ♦️TWELVE
CHAPTER ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE TEN◾ELEVEN TWELVE
As he drags her deeper and deeper into his world, introducing her to yet another dominant character, she quickly realizes it's all too much. Or is it?
ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush
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WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Dubcon elements. Dom/sub dynamic. Praise kink. Free use/power play. Fem!Dom. Bondage. Fingering. Sex toys/vibrators. Double penetration. Overstimulation. (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 9.2k
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ELEVEN 🟥 TWELVE 🟥 THIRTEEN
The worst thing about being measured isn't the act itself, but how this woman keeps handling her as if she were a doll, talking about her as if she weren't even here. She's glad he's with her, and his presence does give her enough comfort to endure whatever the seamstress does to her next, but it's still an ordeal she really doesn't want to go through. Even if it means he'll buy her new clothes, clothes that will really fit her body, not just randomly picked shirts and skirts and underwear that came always only close to properly fitting her.
He's putting in so much effort for her, probably leaves quite a sum in this strange store, and she is grateful, but she also has never been this humiliated in her life – and that is after spending an entire weekend with a stranger who choked her on his cock, fucked her ass as if it were the most natural thing and made her lose control over her body in the most mortifying way.
It is actually this other woman that makes her feel worse than he could ever make her feel (though forcing her to walk around with his cum leaking into her underwear and that woman definitely noticing is a weird little transition between the two). While he always made sure she was okay afterwards, she is downright mean to her.
Called her an object. Actually slapped her.
She also has cold, clammy hands, and the way her measuring tape cuts into her skin and pokes at her nipples and other sensitive areas is not how she expected to be treated here. Not that she expected to be brought to a tailor in the first place. The entire day (and it's only a little after lunch, she assumes) has been far from anything she could have ever expected. Packing up her stuff, leaving her apartment for the last time presumably, letting him lead her into a new life... It is, simply said, more than overwhelming.
The ordeal continues, and she is either staring at the floor, biting her tongue to keep quiet and still, or she's looking at him, how he leans against the wall, strong arms crossed over his chest, in his fancy suit, so tall and intimidating and strangely enough the only anchor she has here. His gaze is intense, and she can only imagine what he is thinking about, fantasizing about.
Probably how he will take her next, and the thought alone makes her squirm on her feet a little, the heat seeping right between her legs where his cum is still caked into her panties, warm and wet, initially a mortifying feeling (because she knows the other woman must have seen it too), but also weirdly comforting. His mark on her, almost as obvious as the countless bruises on her neck that still throb slightly when she moves her head.
But as with most of her aches, she's ignored them enough to almost forget about them. They're part of her now, of her situation, her life. She's still trying to wrap her head around it all. She's living with him now. Staying with him, more likely. Will he keep her in his bed, locked into his bedroom when he's not there? How will this go? Will he lock her up like a pet or give her more freedom? What would she prefer?
She doesn't know, and while she is caught in her thoughts about it, she suddenly feels a soft slap to her butt cheek that startles her. “All done,” the seamstress says in a mock friendly tone, and while she stares at her, she notices him walking closer, a cold “Tsk” on his lips that makes the other woman flinch slightly.
His hand closes around her wrist as he pulls her off the platform and against him, and she looks up in relief, focusing fully on him now, even though his eyes are fixed on the tailor behind her.
“I'll have your order ready by tomorrow,” she says, and he nods while his hand moves to her lower back, warm and comforting as he pulls her a bit closer.
With how she tilts her chin up to look at him, she doesn't notice what's going on behind her, and frankly, she doesn't care about the seamstress anymore. She wants to forget about this whole thing as soon as possible.
“Raise up your arms.” His voice makes her blink, and she realizes she has just stared at him without paying any attention at all. He's stepped back a little, let go of her, and now her dress, the little pale pink one he chose for her to wear, is in his hands.
She lets out a surprised gasp, but obliges and raises her arms, still focusing on him, though a little bit more present when he pulls the dress over her head and smooths it down her body. His hands slip around her neck and into her hair as he frees it from the collar, thumbs brushing over her jaw as he looks down at her, a strange mixture of a dark hunger and a soft admiration shining in his eyes. She bites her lip, a nervous gesture she's utilized a lot lately, and he raises an eyebrow as he watches her closely. She stops immediately, taking a shuddering breath.
He cups her face, his own a stoic mask, before he straightens up again and lets go of her, exhaling loudly. Without another word, he grabs her hand, nods towards the tailor she had already erased from her mind, and pulls her out of the room, back along the narrow hallways to the door they had entered through. Instead of turning to the elevator, he walks to the left, further into the belly of the building until they reach another unassuming door.
She's never been behind the scenes of these fancy department stores before (and she assumes that's where they are – the normal places she's bought clothes at before certainly didn't have their own tailors in hidden backrooms, just bored teenagers waiting for their shift to be over), and despite the rather humiliating start, she is fascinated by it. His world is so different from hers, it makes the whole situation feel more like one of those princess makeover shows instead of the abduction movie that it is.
As she was being measured, her mind had gone all different directions, back to the beginning, crossing over that sentence that made her question everything: “You made me take you,” he had said, making it sound as if it had been all her fault. And maybe it had been. She had approached him, made the literal first move, and he had reacted. Not the way he probably should have, but does it even matter now? Abduction sounds so much more serious than what she had experienced with him. He might have taken her, but she can't remember anything of the actual taking, so maybe she did agree to it?
And maybe she even agreed to all the vile things he did to her, and maybe they had felt a little wrong to her just because she was so inexperienced, had nothing to compare his behavior to. If anything, she now knows a lot more, about sex, about her own body, about his body, about the thin line between pain and pleasure, and most of all, she knows that despite her initial reluctance, she wants this, whatever it is, with him. As long as she's allowed to stay with him, as long as he keeps giving her that precious head-empty-feeling, she will be fine with whatever he does.
Even though her stomach is tensing up, in the worst way, at the mere thought of what that may be. Even after a weekend of being used in ways she could have never imagined, he is still the most unpredictable man she has ever met. And it scares her – more than it excites her, though she's learned to come around eventually. Emphasis on come...
Inhaling deeply, she watches him as he raises his hand to rap his knuckles against the door they've stopped in front of. But then he seems to hesitate, his eyes moving down to meet hers. She feels a blush creeping up her neck at the intensity in his gaze, but it's when he suddenly crouches down in front of her that she lets out a soft yelp. His hands slip under her dress, fingers hooking around the waistband of her panties, and while she stiffens, on the verge of protesting, he pushes her underwear down her legs so swiftly she can only stumble back slightly.
As he balls up the garment in his big hand and stands up again, she stares at him in confusion, instinctively pressing her thighs together at the sudden loss of fabric between them. He puts her panties into his pants pocket, an unreadable expression on his hard face. Instead of giving her any explanation or doing anything else to her, he turns back to the door and knocks.
Her head is spinning, and to ground herself, she focuses on her surroundings again. The hallway around them is bland, as is the door, but there is a tiny sign with a symbol on it, and when she realizes what it portrays, she feels a single bead of sweat run down between her shoulder blades. It's got the shape of a freaking butt plug.
Her hand twitches against his leg on instinct, and he meets her gaze for a moment as she stares up at him with widening eyes. He only has time to give her a crooked smirk before she can hear footsteps on the other side of the door. It opens and takes his attention away from her. Slowly she follows the motion and feels her heart sink at the sight in front of her.
“Ah, what a lovely surprise,” the woman that greets them says with a strangely exotic accent that she can't place. She is... beautiful, to say the least. Dressed in a tight black dress that leaves nothing to the imagination, accentuating an impressive bust as well as a narrow waist and wide hips, the woman balances on precariously high heels, shiny and bright red, her legs are long, her arms are toned, golden rings and bracelets hang from the hands she extends towards the man next to her, completely ignoring her.
He steps towards the woman whose long hair falls in heavy waves around her slim shoulders, framing a face that could belong to a model for sure. High cheekbones, full lips, long dark lashes, a smile that would disarm anyone – but it only creates a deep, dark void inside her stomach as she watches the tall woman throw her arms around the slightly taller man. Something cold grows within her like tiny little ice flowers when he puts his big hands lightly on her tiny waist, the same hands that have been on her body before...
She feels like a literal child next to the two adults, not just small, but hideous in her pastel pink sundress and old shabby sneakers, while the handsome man receives not one, but three kisses on his cheeks from the woman who moves so elegantly on those shoes slash murder weapons that she feels unsteady just looking at her.
Once their greeting ritual is over, she hooks her arm around his, throwing a blinding smile at him and slowly pulls him through the open door, whispering something she cannot understand that makes him smile back at her – all while she, the tiny girl, is left standing on the bland hallway with her heart racing and something ugly festering inside her stomach.
The strange feeling dissipates the moment he suddenly turns back and looks at her, extending his hand, and she almost trips over her own shoes as she steps forward and grabs it, too eager to follow, too eager to touch him as well. The smile on the woman's face freezes, turning cold and fake as her dark eyes follow his gesture, and she feels a shiver crash down her spine as they meet hers.
She quickly averts her eyes, squeezing his hand tightly as she catches up and almost presses into his side, trying to hide behind him to get away from the scrutinizing gaze of the other woman who's let go of his arm to hold the door. Together they leave the unassuming hallway and step into a space that doesn't feel much better.
It's a wider hallway, the walls are black, and as she brushes the knuckles of her free hand against them she notices that they feel soft like velvet, shimmering slightly in the dim, almost purple light shining from the fancy chandelier hanging high above them. She looks around curiously, sees various doors, framed by golden trim, adorned with golden details and handles. It looks expensive, exclusive, too fancy for her tastes, but it's not the luxury that twists her guts. There's a faint smell in the air, and she can't quite put her finger on it.
The woman walks past them, fixed on ignoring her, her heels thudding softly over the carpet. She turns to the second door on the left, that fake smile back on her beautiful face as she looks at the man she's clinging to like a lost child. He keeps holding her hand as they follow her into another room. The light is brighter here, the walls lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves that hold various sizes of black boxes she cannot look into.
The door clicks shut behind them, and the smell becomes overwhelming. Like rubber, plastic, with a strangely sweet undertone, earthy like leather. Artificial, weirdly familiar. She swallows dryly. They walk to the middle of the room, there's some sort of bar, and the woman steps behind it while he pulls her to the other side, nudging her to slip onto one of the two bar stools while he remains standing behind her, one large hand on her shoulder to hold her there.
She feels him close to her, his warmth a comfort she certainly needs when she lets her eyes wander through the room once more. And slowly, very slowly, it dawns on her. He brought her to a freaking sex shop.
Apart from the unassuming boxes on the shelves, there's a wall, plush looking and red, that holds an array of objects that make her frown and shiver: things that looks like riding crops and canes, whips and paddles, some solid, some with holes, most made of leather, some with wood, expensive looking, intricate, and she forces herself not to think back to the few times she's followed her curiosity into the darker corners of the Internet.
Despite her great aversion to sex toys, she knows of them (before she was forced to experience them), seen them in use in various porn clips and gifs, she may be inexperienced, but she hasn't been living under a rock. Though her desire to pleasure herself has been majorly dulled after seeing one too many of these darker themed videos centered around helpless girls in precarious situations, unable to move, bound and gagged and then... tortured, there's no other word that comes to her innocent mind. It had been deeply disturbing.
It's only now, after spending more than 48 hours with a man who would seem to enjoy exactly those kinds of clips, that she learned that there is pleasure in pain, but she still doesn't want to get near any of the objects hanging from the wall. She can still feel the phantom pain of his hand on her butt cheeks when he'd spanked her, she can't imagine what it must feel like to be hit with a wide leather paddle or a thin wooden cane.
Shuddering deeply, she looks away quickly, but her gaze only falls onto another display, another plush wall, this time there are hand cuffs hanging from hooks, things that look like collars and leashes, leather and metal gleaming in the soft lighting. There are even masks and muzzles and blindfolds and... gags. More items she doesn't want to learn more about.
When she brings her attention back to the woman behind the bar, she notices that she's watching her with a dark smile, full lips curled, a glint in her eyes. She clears her throat and turns slightly to look up at the man behind her, and he has the same glint in his eyes. Her frown deepens as she looks from one adult to the other. (She's technically one as well, but still feels like a damn child between them.)
“I have to admit,” the woman says in her sweet, exotic voice, “I am a little surprised. You visit me so rarely, and usually not with... this kind of company,” she adds with a smile, her eyes moving away from her to him, and she feels him shifting against her, his hand curling around her shoulder, and despite the somewhat possessive touch, she feels that coldness poking at her insides again when she imagines these two alone in the same room, surrounded by sex toys. “Did you come to pick up your order?”
“No,” he replies, his deep voice vibrating against her, cutting through her dark thoughts. “I doubt you have it ready so soon.” The woman's smile turns a little sour at his mocking tone, but she keeps her facade, tilting her head slightly, shifting from one leg to the other as she leans against the bar. “I need something more immediate, to go, if you will.”
A surprised laugh escapes the older woman before her eyes land on hers, and while she looks back at her in confusion, she smirks darkly. “To go, huh? That's why you brought your little pet?”
It's like another sting inside her, being called a pet after being called an object, but she tries her best not to let them see how flustered she really is, not only by the names, but by the implications. She's in a sex shop, and whatever he wants to buy for her, she already knows she'll hate it. It's only been this morning that she woke up with a damn dildo stuffed inside her, held in place by a freaking harness. Does he really want to fill her up again? Can't he give her a break?
No. Of course he can't. She is his to use, to have, to control, he'd told her that, and she can't say no, because she somehow agreed to this. Submitted to him. And if they'd be in his penthouse and he'd ask her again to choose one of those many colorful toys he stores in his bedside table, she'd be somewhat okay with it, but it's the place, it's the woman, it's everything that happened prior, that makes her wary, that twists her stomach, that feels worse than anything he'd made her do before.
She feels the blush creeping up her neck even before the woman bends down to pick up something stored beneath the bar, and when she puts a large glass case in front of her, her heart sinks and her cheeks burn up fully. It's two rows of items lying on soft looking red velvet, and by now she can tell by the shape of them, where those are supposed to go. She feels the respective holes clenching in terrified anticipation. Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, she fights the shudders crashing through her body, her fingers clawing at the hem of her short dress.
He steps beside her, his hand still on her shoulder, his grip tight, demanding, as he leans closer to take a look at the display on the bar.
“The usual?” the woman asks, and she notices how he stiffens beside her, and it's that motion that distracts her from her spiraling thoughts. The two words hang in the air, making her wonder. She actually never questioned his large collection of sex toys, but it makes sense. He's a popular man, she's seen him disappear with various girls before he had finally picked her. It shouldn't surprise her that there have been others in the bed he'd taken her virginity in, others he's used those toys on. (She just hopes he's cleaned them afterwards...)
How he now looks at the woman though, it feels strange. As if she said too much, said something she shouldn't have said. It only deepens her frown. Before she can make sense of it, a deep vibration hums in the air, and she looks down at the glass case with a raised eyebrow, goosebumps crawling over her exposed arms, but it's not one of the toys, it's his phone.
He lets go of her shoulder and pulls it from his pocket, then sighs as he glances at the display. “I gotta take this,” he says, letting the device buzz in his hand while he moves his free one over the spotless glass. “That one,” he says quickly, his voice harsh and business-like, pointing to one of the larger, longer items in the case, and while she stares at him, his words and choice settling heavy in her stomach, the woman nods with a professional smile. “Prepare her for me?” he adds with a last look, and she can hear the sharp inhale and slight hesitation of the shop owner (and frankly, she feels the same. What now? What kind of service is that?).
“Of course,” the woman says despite her initial reaction, her voice calm and friendly, while her face is a mask of dark disdain as she watches him turn around and leave the room with quick steps, the phone already pressed to his ear – and the girl squirms on the stool, eager to follow him, absolutely not wanting to stay here, alone, with that woman, surrounded by freaking sex toys and horrifying bondage equipment – and the prospect of being prepared to take something up her ass again.
Her heart clenches as she fists the hem of her dress, trying to ground herself, her breath quickening when the woman taps her manicured nails on the glass case in front of her. She looks up timidly, meeting a rather sinister smile that makes her skin crawl with goosebumps.
“Well then,” the woman says and stores the display case back beneath the bar. “Let's get... ready then, hm?” She walks towards one of the shelves and picks up a medium sized black box, then nods towards a corner of the room that's partitioned off by a heavy looking curtain. “Get in there,” she adds, her tone much rougher than before.
“Yes, ma'am,” she mumbles, unable to stop the words. It's a reflex, an instinct, an inborn thing to obey when met with people like this. Demanding, dominant. She's just surprised this works with women as well.
Shuffling on her sneakers, her thighs still pressed together, she makes it past the curtain, and freezes. It's a room filled with strange benches, plush ones, leather ones, some lower to the ground, some higher up, definitely shaped to accommodate a body draped over them. There are wooden structures behind them on the wall, boards in an x-shape, and when she notices the hand cuffs dangling from them, she feels a cold shiver rushing down her spine.
“Bend over that one,” the woman tells her, her formerly flowery voice cold and demeaning now, and she follows the delicate hand pointing to one of the benches, a leather one shaped like a triangle of some sort.
Unable to stop herself, she walks to it, inhaling deeply, her whole body shaking, but somehow she does as she is told and presses her stomach against the soft leather, then bends forward, her hands gripping a metal bar on the bottom to steady herself. It's a strange position, leaving her rear completely exposed, and it's only after she's bent over, that she realizes that he took her panties from her.
A soft laugh comes from behind her, pushing even more blood into her already red face. “You came prepared, huh?” the woman mocks, and she flinches badly when she feels two hands on her hips, slowly moving up the thin fabric of her dress. “Of course you'd be. He always thinks ahead...”
Her comment distracts her from the humiliation of the situation. Always? He's brought girls here before? Then again, why is she surprised? She's established he's a popular man with unique tastes, why should she be the first to go through this treatment? Swallowing hard, she grips the metal bar tighter, resting her cheek on the cold leather beneath her, trying to breathe her fears and doubts away.
A sudden slap makes her yelp, her body convulsing against the bench. “So responsive, good,” the woman whispers, more to herself, while she flips her skirt up fully, scratching her seemingly gloved hand over her throbbing ass cheek, the sound of the rubber making her skin crawl. “So, are you familiar with having things up your pretty little bum?”
When she doesn't reply immediately, the hand is back on her rear, the smack even louder, crashing through her nerves instantly. She gasps, almost chokes on her spit, before croaking out: “Y-yes, ma'am.”
“Yeah? Like what? Dainty little metal plugs? Vibrators? Cocks?”
“M-metal ones,” she whispers breathlessly, shame burning through her body when she adds: “And... c-cock...”
It's one thing to experience those things, but talking about them with a complete stranger? And she thought being measured by a rude woman was bad. Her day seems to spiral more and more, so even the idea of being roughly fucked on a desk, unprepared and raw, sounds better than having to endure this. Actually, anything that includes him would be better right about now.
She feels tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she wonders where he's gone, when he comes back, if he comes back, why he's left her alone with this woman in the first place, why he lets her get so close to her body that's presumably all his...
A sudden stab of something cold rips her right out of her thoughts, her choked yelp coming almost a second too late, when she feels a thin finger pushing into her puckered hole without hesitation. She clenches around it as the woman moves something wet and cold around her insides. A whimper escapes her at the feeling, it's soothing as much as it is uncomfortable. The finger retreats, she hears the squirt of some liquid, and another cold dollop of what she assumes to be lube finds its way into her ass.
Weirdly enough this feels better than when he had his fingers inside her, dry and rough, forced and unexpected, and for a moment her body is confused by the attention, her core clenching, warmth settling low in her stomach, her thighs twitching slightly against the bench. But then the woman adds another finger, pushes deeper, and she feels her long sharp nails on her tense muscles, even through the glove.
Stiffening under the sensation, she grits her teeth, forces down her noises, doesn't want to draw too much attention to herself, wants it to be over soon. Her mind is spinning. Why is she even allowing this? She's come to terms when it came to him, wanting to please him because he gave her a new life, but this woman? Will she never be able to say no ever again? Will she let anyone do to her whatever they want? Is this what she's become?
A groan is forced out of her throat as she feels more pressure on the tight ring of muscles when the woman adds another finger, or maybe she's even using her whole hand now, she can't be sure, it feels like too much, stretching her, pushing deep, the lube squelching out of her with an obscene noise that makes her shiver deeply.
But then the strange sensation is gone, and she's left empty, her muscles clenching in confusion, her breath quicker, her heart thundering inside her chest, a single tear running down the side of her face. She hears the crinkling of paper behind her, the squirt of the lube bottle again, gloved hands rubbing over a wet surface. It's still a surprise when she feels something solid pressing against her sphincter, no matter how well she's been prepared.
As it is pushed deeper into her ass, she sees the shape of it in the glass case, sees his finger pointing at it, and she shudders deeply. It's longer than any plug she's had, not as long as his cock, but close, and luckily not as girthy, but it's made of differently sized balls pushed into a hard line, and she can feel every single bump as it slips into her, how her muscles tense around it, then give way, allowing the next to move in.
The woman is surprisingly gentle, but she still lets out quiet whines as the toy fills her up. Then it stops, resting hard and heavy inside her, and she yelps when her ass cheek is slapped once more, causing her muscles to clench around the insertion, holding it in place. She sniffles, biting her lip, trying to adjust. It feels strange, unfamiliar, but ultimately not as bad. Not that she can do anything against it anyway...
“What an obedient little pet you are,” she hears the woman's voice behind her, almost soft, as she moves her wet hands over her skin, her thumb poking at the base of the plug. “I'm almost jealous he found you first...”
Another slap clears the confusion in her head as she rocks against the bench, gasping. She feels her dress being pulled down again, then hears the sound of gloves being removed with a snap of rubber. She's still breathing a little harder when she's nudged off the bench and forced into a standing position again. Her legs are shaking, that object inside her moving with every twist and turn of her body, making her flinch.
“Thank you, ma'am,” she hears herself saying, her eyes glued to the floor, head bowed in a mixture of submission and shame, but there's something else swimming in the back of her mind as well. Gratitude, excitement at being praised, even if it wasn't by him.
The woman laughs softly. “Call me Mistress, pet,” she says, her long nail scratching along her throat as she grabs her chin and makes her look up. “You've earned it.”
She stares at her, chest rising and falling faster, her core clenching involuntarily. “Yes, Mistress,” she echoes quietly, making her opposite smile warmly.
Footsteps sound behind her, and she dares to break eye contact when she sees him pushing the curtain aside and entering the room. She blushes deeply, averting her eyes, standing stock-still while the woman lowers her hand and turns around.
“All done,” she says with a tilt to her head. He nods approvingly, stepping closer, his large hand suddenly finding her arm before he twists her around and presses her back to the bench.
She gasps, stiffening when he rips her dress up to expose her rear, then presses his finger to the base of the plug, forcing a choked groan out of her throat. “Any trouble?” he asks, rubbing over her probably reddened cheek.
“No, she's been very obedient,” the woman replies, and he huffs a grunt in response.
“Good,” he says and pushes her dress back down, before gripping her arm again and pulling her against him. She stumbles slightly, looking up at him. He meets her gaze, and a smile creeps onto his stoic face. “How do you feel?”
He's asked her the same thing when he has stuffed the dildo into her cunt, and back then she has felt full, it has been uncomfortable, strange, and having the larger plug in her butt still feels weird, with her muscles trying to adjust to the unfamiliar intruder by clenching around every bump of it, but overall she feels... okay.
“I feel fine,” she replies quietly, trying herself at a shy smile as he studies her face.
“Fine, hm?” he repeats with a dry laugh.
He looks away then (and she follows his gaze), nodding towards the woman who extends her hand to him, holding a piece of paper with a QR code on it. One hand on her shoulder, he slips the other into his pocket and retrieves his phone, quickly scanning the symbol, before the smile widens on his handsome face, almost turning diabolical.
She wonders what made him so happy, what's this all about, but then something strange makes her flinch, something from within. A yelp escapes her, and she grips onto his arm in surprise, feeling her muscles vibrating. No, not her muscles, the plug inside her. It's humming, buzzing against her flesh, a deep thrum that makes her entire body shudder. Her core clenches in response, her thighs trembling, and she leans against him helplessly.
He watches her with interest while his thumb moves along the screen, and the motion bleeds into the movement of the vibrating plug. It gets stronger, harder, throbbing inside her, coaxing little moans out of her that turn into gasps that turn into whimpers. She's clinging to him, and luckily he lets her, as her body quickly gets overwhelmed by the assault of sensations pulsing through her, all centered deep within her ass, but soon her cunt starts contracting too, clenching around nothing, and she cries out, squeezing her eyes shut.
“So responsive,” she hears the woman's voice, it's quiet and barely registers in her clouded mind, but she senses the hidden praise and it only makes everything worse.
The vibrations crescendo once more, loudly buzzing now, her whole body shaking, her nails digging into his arm, her lips parted, her shoulders hunching, her back arched, her legs feel like jello, everything moves, hums, shudders, muscles clench, convulse, contract, and she can only manage to issue a single croaked groan before she collapses against him, something warm and sticky dripping down her inner thigh.
He holds her, one strong arm around her, and slowly the thrumming gets weaker until it stops altogether, leaving her still shaking badly, the phantom sensation of having her insides vibrating clinging to her like she clings to him.
“Still fine?” he whispers, pressing her into him, his lips brushing against her damp forehead.
She's breathing harder, her heart still beating out of her chest, but she nods, a dumb little smile creeping onto her lips. “Yes, sir,” she mumbles, the words swimming out of her unchecked. Head empty, how lovely. He chuckles softly into her hair, before he slowly extracts her from himself, grabbing her shoulder to look at her. She can barely stand, but tries her best to remain upright, as she looks up at him out of hooded eyes.
He tilts his head, a curious glint in his gaze as he watches her closely. “Give me the same thing for her cunt,” he then says, the words barely make sense to her, but the woman moves behind him, replying with an amused: “Good idea.”
Her leaving footsteps are drowned by the soft yelp she issues when he suddenly picks her up and carries her towards another bench. This one is reclined, like a lounge chair, and she sinks into the soft leather, relaxing, eyelids fluttering, but as soon as he raises her legs and puts them into strange contraptions that hold them up and spread far apart, she slowly comes down from the high he's forced upon her.
He's standing between her open thighs, hands on her shins, holding her in place, his eyes wandering over her exposed lower body. She blinks in confusion, still buzzing with the aftershocks of her orgasm. The plug rests still and heavy inside her, the relaxed position pushing it a little deeper. She inhales sharply, wondering what's going on.
The woman returns, holding another black silicone toy in her newly gloved hands. There are leather straps hanging from her right forearm. A harness, she recognizes, and somehow that brings her down to earth with a force she hasn't expected. He wants to fill her even more, plug her up fully, and these things aren't normal dildos, they are vibrators, and he can control them with his phone. Oh for crying out loud!
She squirms in her seat, her legs kicking fruitlessly against his hold. He shakes his head and lets out a few “Tsk”s as he looks at her. It takes her a moment to obey the unspoken command, and it takes even more self-control to force herself to sit still. She bites her lip hard, breathing loudly through her nose as she looks from him to the woman and back, her heart beating harder again.
Once she's somewhat calm, he takes his hands from her shins, watching her closely, assessing if she'll stay calm, but then he sighs and fumbles with the thick leather bands attached to the contraptions that hold her legs up until they are bound in place, and she tests them immediately, tensing against them, but they won't budge. Her mind starts spinning as a strange kind of panic settles deep within her stomach.
He leans in then, a hand on her face. “Shh, it'll be alright, relax,” he soothes her, brushing his thumb over her bottom lip. “Be a good girl, okay?”
She lets out a whine and nods obediently. He's playing dirty. He always did, but this feels like betrayal (and it's not even that he doesn't trust her to stay still, that he saw the need to restrain her), it's because he isn't alone. The woman watches her curiously, a dark smile on her full lips as she twists the toy between her long fingers. “Do you want me to prepare her?” she asks sweetly, her eyes boring into hers, sending a cold shiver down her spine.
“No, I'll do it,” he replies quietly, his hands already sliding down her inner thighs. And she's glad he does. The woman she's supposed to call Mistress still feels a little suspicious to her. She wants to feel good, sure, if she has the option, but not by her hands. He is the center of her new world, she doesn't need the confusion that comes with someone else pleasuring her.
Though this doesn't seem to be about her pleasure. With how they both look at her, she feels like a rabbit forced into a corner with not one, but two predators staring down at her, like grinning hyenas, eager to play with her.
And somehow it's all wrong when she feels his fingers sliding along her outer lips. What should have been an intimate gesture, a shared moment, a mutual exploration, is now a witnessed thing, with her being on full display, strapped into that strange chair-like bench, it would be almost clinical if it weren't for the soft lighting and dark interior of the room.
She's acutely aware of the woman watching his every move, how his fingers rub over her mound, creating these highly embarrassing squelching sounds when they dip between her folds, and she can't help it, she squirms, strangled whines escaping her as she turns her head away and squeezes her eyes shut.
Footsteps round the bench and then she feels two hands, gloved and a little cold, on her jaw, holding her head, turning it back, before a soft breath brushes against her forehead. “Open your eyes, pet,” the woman whispers, and she shivers, eyes flying open on instinct, a croaked gasp slipping from her parted lips. Her wide gaze finds his, and he watches her, stern, stoic, head tilted slightly, as he continues to rub his hand over her sex.
She's stiff on the bench, breathing harder, heart thundering, held by the woman's hands and the leather bindings around her legs, but it's his dark stare that freezes her to the spot, makes her shiver involuntarily. Pressing her lips into a thin line, she forces herself to relax, to focus on him. He holds her attention as he finally dips a finger into her already clenching hole, and she lets out a muffled moan at the sensation.
For a moment he just looks at her, moving his digit in and out slowly, testing the waters, teasing her resistance, almost a little too keen to coax those lewd sounds out of her wet cunt. Her nostrils flare as she fights the shame trying to burn up inside her. To soothe her, the woman presses her fingertips against her throat, applying soft pressure, but her sharp nails still scratch along her skin occasionally. She furrows her eyebrows, almost loses the battle against all these kinds of stimulation.
Eventually she does, when he adds another finger and really pumps into her now, and she feels her hips bucking, her shoulders tensing, body shuddering intensely. Her suspended feet twitch in their restraints, her toes curl, and she parts her lips to let out a wanton cry, her eyelids fluttering. He prolongs the moment of bliss by curling his fingers and bullying that special spot inside her with hard thrusts of his hand until she thrashes her head into the woman's hands and moans loudly, eyes rolling back, vision turning white.
And it's all gone for a moment, her orgasm crashing through her like a cleansing wave, letting her forget all about the strange room with its strange contraptions, the shop full of toys and whips and gags, and it's just his strong fingers guiding her through the exploding lights behind her eyelids, her body seemingly floating... if it wasn't for the pair of hands holding her neck.
The number of hands confuses her, and she slowly drifts down again, limbs relaxing, all of her sinking back down on the soft bench, while her heart is exploding inside her chest, her breath coming and going in hard puffs to fill her lungs with air again.
“Good pet,” a soft female voice whispers into her ear. “What a display...”
“Th-thank you,” she croaks out, still dizzy from her release, not sure who she's thanking and why, but the inborn instinct loosens her tongue enough to allow the words to spill out. Pointy nails dig into her throat, and she gasps, eyes fluttering open, the added word “Mistress” flying from her quivering lips.
But when the woman behind her eases her grip, her eyes fall onto him, and his gaze is darker than usual, eyebrows knitted, jaw clenched, and she lets out a strange whine, bucking up from the bench, wanting to get closer. Her hands, that have been gripping the sides of the bench in sheer panicked necessity, fly up and reach for him. She manages to slip from the woman's hands, but with her legs raised up and held in place as they are, she sits in a strange position, barely able to hold herself up, but her fingers still brush against the front of his shirt, fruitlessly trying to grab onto him.
“I'm sorry,” she whispers, feeling the need to apologize, tears burning under her lashes. He watches her, standing so tall and intimating between her legs, one of his hands raised, shimmering in the light, her juices dripping past his knuckles.
She feels the woman retreating, and suddenly his wet hand is around her throat as he folds himself over her, and she gasps breathlessly, hands now gripping at his wrist, eyes wide, lips parted in a silent cry.
“Right you are,” he hisses, his voice low and dark and dangerous. “You are mine, and only mine,” he looks up when he says those last words, and she hears a shuffle behind her. When he looks back at her, she stiffens even more, holding her breath (not that she could breathe anyway with how he squeezes her throat). “So what do you say to me?”
Her mind is blank with fear (and strangely enough a bit of arousal, may it be the remnants of her orgasm or a new wave of excitement), so it takes her a moment to understand his question, causing him to apply more pressure on her neck, but once she moves her jaw, he eases it and lets her speak, or lets her try to speak.
“Th... tha... thank y-you,” she stammers, her voice hoarse and feeble, her breaths panicked and fast, so she tries again. “Th-thank y-you, s-sir.”
Her attempts calm the anger that has overtaken his handsome face and it relaxes. He exhales loudly, and nods, slowly leaning back, his hand moving to slip around her head, gently squeezing her nape as he watches her, before he leans in again and presses his forehead to hers, staring deeply into her eyes.
“You are mine,” he says again, his voice vibrating through her. “Mine to use, mine to have. Is that right, darling?”
“Yes, sir,” she replies, much quicker, holding his gaze, feeling herself sinking into his eyes, his dominance, his guidance. “I am yours.”
A smile grazes his tight lips, and she could have sworn he is fighting the urge to kiss her, show her the affection he usually would if they were alone, but they are not, so he just leans away, lets go of her and straightens up. She relaxes into the bench, hands falling limply onto her stomach, fingers curling into the hem of her dress, her eyes following his every move.
He inhales deeply, his large form growing for a moment, before he breaks eye contact and turns to the woman who has retreated into the shadows (and she wishes she would stay there). She hands him the black silicone toy, already lubed, shiny in the dim lighting, its shape a little different from the plug still sitting heavy in her ass. It's a little thicker, about as long, but more rounded, imitating the shape of a cock but only just, also bends a little as he rolls it between his long fingers.
She stares at him, waiting for whatever happens next. Her mind is still buzzing from what already happened, from entering this store to being bent over and plugged and pleasured, to being strapped down and pleasured all over again, and it's not over yet. Despite the dizziness swirling within her, her body is already reacting to the sight in front of her, as he approaches her, steps between her legs again, the shining item in his large hand. Her chest rises and falls faster, heart still beating as if it wants to jump through her ribcage, palms sweaty and lips dry in anticipation.
He holds her gaze, a little glint in his eyes while hers are wide and fearful. She doesn't even know anymore why she prefers fingers over sex toys, maybe it's more natural, more personal to feel somebody's heat instead of a cold, lifeless item. A toy pushed into another toy. Does it even matter? She shouldn't fight this, she knows that, he won't like it if she did, but she can't stop the involuntarily twitch of her body, the bucking of her hips, the strain in her spine as she tries to move away from where he's pointing the dildo.
His hand is on her stomach, large and heavy, pushing her down but also grounding her, giving her that warmth she's missing, and somehow she calms a little under the touch, every deep inhale pushing back against his palm. In her raised position with her legs spread so wide open, she can see when he rubs the silicone toy between her wet folds, gathers her slick, adds it to the lube shining on the smooth material.
He prods the tip against her entrance, and she stares, holding her breath, tensing up despite herself. His hand presses harder into her stomach, coaxing a gasp out of her, the motion making her look up at him, and he looks at her, hard, but his eyes seem warmer, reassuring, calm, sure of what he's doing, telling her it's okay. And it is okay. She inhales deeply, clenching her fingers around the fabric of her dress as she tries to relax the rest of her body.
She reminds herself she's had a toy inside her before, for several hours to be exact, and it was okay, more or less. She's felt full and a little stiff, but it was okay. She has been able to sleep with it lodged inside her no problem (kindly ignoring the outcome of that endeavor). But then she realizes she is not in his penthouse, not in a bed, but in a store, in the middle of the city, and she is supposed to walk around with not one, but two toys wedged inside her holes. How the hell is that supposed to work?
“Ah!” A pained yelp breaks from her throat as her thoughts are rudely interrupted by him pushing the dildo past the initial resistance and then continuously further, without hesitation, deeper, forcing it past her tense muscles, and she whines at the sensation, at feeling so incredibly full, and even worse when she feels the toy nudging against the other one in her ass through the thin layer between.
She writhes on the bench, almost howling now by how strange it feels to be stretched this much, to be filled this much, and suddenly the woman's hands are back on her shoulders, pushing her down, holding her in place. She feels tears streaming down her face as she watches him out of hooded eyes, vision blurry, her body still fighting the intrusion, clenching, tensing up even more, her legs kicking fruitlessly in their leather bindings, but he doesn't seem to care, just pushes the toy as deep as it will go, and she sees it disappearing inside her, feels it prodding her innermost spots, or so it feels, stretching her limits.
The hand on her stomach presses down again as if wanting to feel said toy through her skin, and she is certain it has to bulge out of her with how deep it is inside her, but when he removes his hand, there's nothing, just her fluttering belly, flat and covered in a thin layer of sweat. The woman hands him the leather straps she's carried earlier, and he starts arranging them around her thighs and her waist and hips, nudging her shuddering body to accommodate his handiwork.
Her whines are breathless little gasps now, her arms shaking from how hard she clutches at her dress to ground herself. She barely dares to breathe with how full she feels, how snug the harness sits around her lower body, holding everything in place. The last buckle is closed and secured, and she stares down at the contraption, those thick black leather straps, shiny and expensive looking, straight out of one of those BDSM clips she's stumbled across before. And in stark contrast to that, there's her pastel pink sundress, wrinkled from how she's holding onto the skirt part, with its cinched waist and modest neckline and those cute little white flowers.
And the girl on the bench is confused, to put it mildly. How is this happening? How did she end up strapped to a bench in a sex shop and plugged up by a toy in each of her holes, holes that have been virginal only a few days ago, holes she wouldn't even touch herself. Surrounded by two dominant adults, who are now stepping back to marvel at the sight in front of them. Surely they must see the contradiction too, how innocent she is on the surface while her insides are stretched and bullied by those silicone things that have no right to feel this invasive and yet so...
It's growing on her, to say the least. The longer they sit within her, slowly becoming a part of her, or so she hopes, the less stressed she is about it (well, we'll talk about how she is supposed to actually walk with them later). At least she thinks so now, lying on the bench, unmoving except for the nervous flutter of her stomach, with everything resting.
And while she calms down, savoring the quiet moment, the woman and the man walk behind her, out of her line of sight, and for a few more minutes, nothing happens – until it all explodes.
She almost jerks off the bench when the first vibration crashes through her. It's a single stab of movement deep within her, the attached toy throbbing hard against her tense muscles, and in turn pushing even harder against the other toy, and she bucks her hips, cries out, kicks her legs in their restraints, her hands flying to the harness between her thighs, clawing at the straps as she whines in protest.
“Relax,” sounds his voice, loud, demanding, echoing in her ears, and instantly grounding her as she stiffens, body shuddering as it is forced to remain still. She's breathing harder, frozen in her cramped position, before a hand pushes her back onto the bench.
He reappears between her legs, one hand on her knee, rubbing soothing circles into her skin as he looks down at her, the other hand holding his phone, his thumb pressed to the screen. She watches him breathlessly, new tears burning in her eyes. The hum grows inside her as he moves his digit over the device, and she clenches around the vibrating toy, grits her teeth, forces herself to endure.
His hand moves down her leg, short fingernails scratch along her inner thigh, teasing her sensitive skin, scraping over the leather straps. She is fixated on his fingers, focusing, distracting herself, and she realizes the harness sits low on her hips, a thick leather band running from her pubic bone all around her mound until it comes back up between her ass cheeks, tight and snug, thinning. And it sits right over her clit, and all he has to do, is push it down against it, and she wails, kicks her feet helplessly, convulses uncontrollably.
He holds the pressure, moves his thumb over the screen again before the buzzing grows stronger inside her. She thrashes her head back, hips arching upwards, insides singing with these unfamiliar sensations, and he pushes further, increases the vibrations once more, drives her closer and closer to the edge (of pleasure or insanity, she isn't sure at this point).
Her noises are loud and shrill in the room, the sound dampened by the velvet walls and other equipment, her throat quickly straining under the constant stream of whines and wails and cries, as she spasms on the bench, not even registering how the woman holds her shoulders, fingernails seemingly digging into her skin through the fabric of her dress.
She is overwhelmed, more than that, is barely able to breathe, to function, to think. Everything is buzzing, humming, twitching, fireworks explode behind her eyelids, pain crashes through her, turning into waves of pleasure that pull her away, threatening to drown her. Amidst the inescapable bliss, she hears a different kind of humming, voices, soft, amused, maybe even mocking, not that she cares.
“Such a sensitive little pet.” bleeds into a deeper thrum of “Good girl.”, and the praise spirals her even higher until she fades away into unconsciousness, letting go completely.
ELEVEN 🟥 TWELVE 🟥 THIRTEEN
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End notes: So I wanted to introduce a female character that could fuel our poor girl's jealousy, but then Mistress stepped into my head and dominated everything. That's just how it goes sometimes. She makes another appearance, but I'm not sure if I want to keep her, maybe in the next season? We'll see.
Also sorry for the confusion I'm sure I created by writing a scene with two unnamed females, I hope it came through who did what and wasn't too redundant either.
Thank you for reading!
Next chapter on Sunday!
TAG LIST: @qmsvpx @cyan1decandy @bimbos-are-angels @voiceactivated @reader-1290 @untamedheart81
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AO3 / / / MASTERLIST
CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE◾ SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾TEN
ELEVEN
61 notes · View notes
mrsportgas · 3 days
Text
The Neighbor. CHAPTER 1
Summary: The story takes place in the real world. Shanks, your unbearable neighbor, makes you a proposition that you're unsure whether to reject. It could be the start of a friendship, or maybe something more?
SHANKS X YOU
WARNING: Except for the first chapter, the rest will contain scenes of sex and violence, making this fanfic strictly +18.
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Nami and I had just arrived. It was Sunday, and people were out and about, either running errands, taking a stroll, or simply enjoying the last hours of the day before the week began again. The neighborhood was lively. As I looked out the window, I could see children playing in the park, adults walking their dogs, and others jogging, all going about their lives calmly. Nami parked the car in the driveway, and to the right, a huge Range Rover took up the entire parking spot. The semi-detached houses, split two by two, practically forced you to share the parking and almost the garden with the next-door neighbor.
"Hurry up, Y/N! Let's grab the stuff and go in, they’ve been waiting for us at the bar for hours," Nami said, slightly out of breath.
I laughed at her nervousness, got out of the car, and grabbed the things from the trunk, following my friend.
It had been a year since I finished college, and now Nami and I were starting our PhDs at the same university. So, we had returned to the town where the university was located, but this time, we rented a house in the suburbs. We felt too old to go back to the sorority and wanted some peace and quiet.
We had made plans to meet our friends from college. Some, like us, had started their PhDs, others had stayed working in the city, and Luffy was still in his final year.
"Let’s just drop the stuff at the entrance and go. They’re going to kill us, we’re so late," I said, hoping Nami would relax a bit.
We finished unloading everything from the car and headed to the bar. We chose a bar close to our new house so we could get to know the local spots better, although it was likely we’d end up partying at our place more than once.
We entered the bar, where Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, and Robin were already quite lively.
"Guys!!!" Nami shouted, completely unaware that she was drawing everyone’s attention in the bar.
Everyone greeted us enthusiastically. It had been months since I had seen them, so we spent a long time saying hello. We started catching up, each of us updating the group on what we’d been up to. Meanwhile, Zoro drank at lightning speed, seemingly unaffected, and Luffy ate quickly, as usual.
"Y/N, don’t you want something to drink? Come on, it’s on me," said Sanji, guiding me to the bar without waiting for an answer.
The bar was packed with all kinds of people, though the bar itself was clear, except for a group of men. I made eye contact with one of them, who was chatting with two women, and then turned his gaze towards our group.
"Luffy!!!" the man shouted.
Luffy turned around, and a huge smile appeared on his face. He ran over, hugging the man, practically plowing through the bar like a bull in a china shop. I’d say he almost knocked over those women. "Shanks!!!!!!!"
The two of them started chatting animatedly.
"Y/N, I got this for you," Sanji said, snapping me out of my daze.
I wasn’t sure what he had ordered, but I trusted his taste in food and drinks, so I grabbed the glass and returned to the table.
The night flew by, with everyone drinking and chatting excitedly.
"Luffy, who was that guy?" Nami asked.
"He’s not that guy. It’s Shanks, he’s a friend of mine," Luffy responded, laughing.
"You have the weirdest friends," Nami repeated, and we all burst out laughing.
"Nami, we should probably head out, or we won’t be able to get up tomorrow," I suggested.
Nami nodded, and we all got up to leave.
"I’ll walk you home, girls, and you too, Robin," Sanji said, trying to wrap his arms around us.
"We’re fine, Sanji. You’d better walk Robin so she’s not alone," Nami said, dismissing Sanji’s offer.
Nami and I got back home and agreed to clean up the next day since we still had a week before our PhD program started.
I put on my pajamas and climbed into bed, ready to fall asleep, when I heard noises outside. My window faced the front yard and several windows of the neighboring house, so every time someone passed by, I could hear them. I just prayed they weren’t a family with loud kids. I took advantage of the night to look out the window without being seen and finally see who our new neighbors were.
The man from the bar, Luffy’s friend, was walking with the two women he had been talking to. All three were clearly drunk, stumbling across the parking lot while the women complimented the man’s car, and he showed off, flirting with both of them.
"Nami!!!!!!!" I ran to her room, hoping she wasn’t asleep yet.
"Y/N?!?! Are you okay? What’s going on?" Nami responded, clearly disoriented.
"Come quickly, our neighbor is outside. You won’t believe who it is."
We both rushed back to my room like the nosy people we were, hiding as best we could behind the curtains, watching the whole scene.
"That old guy is our neighbor? Great. Looks like we’ll have some good entertainment," Nami said.
I burst out laughing. "He’s not that old, and if he’s Luffy’s friend, I’m sure he’s cool."
"Or a total weirdo… Looks like he’s gone inside. Well, I’m off to bed. If you find out anything else, let me know tomorrow," Nami said with a mischievous smile as she left my room.
She closed the door, and I turned around, just in time to notice that right in the window across from mine, our dear neighbor—shirtless—was laughing and chatting with the women in what appeared to be the master bedroom. Suddenly, he looked out the window, his gaze meeting mine, as I stood in the middle of my window, completely visible.
Our eyes locked, and a huge smile spread across his face. My heart started racing, pounding in my chest. I quickly closed the curtains, my face flushed and burning. I jumped into bed, hiding under the covers. As I calmed down, the image of his muscular body kept popping into my mind. He might be older, but it was clear he was hot.
The next morning, Nami and I unpacked all our belongings and carefully organized everything.
"Why don’t we invite all our friends from the city tonight? It’ll be fun," Nami suggested with a mischievous tone.
"Alright, just hope nothing gets broken, or the landlord will kill us."
We began calling and messaging all our friends and then started setting everything up. We dressed in our favorite outfits, and Nami did her favorite hairstyle on me. "This is the one that looks best on you. You look gorgeous!" she said every time she styled my hair like this.
The night came quickly, along with the guests. We greeted old friends and acquaintances. The party was in full swing. Zoro and Nami were competing to see who could drink the most without passing out, Usopp and Robin were playing beer pong with a few others, while Luffy ate as much as he could. Sanji was busy making drinks for anyone who asked.
"Could you make me a piña colada?" I asked as I approached the table where Sanji was mixing various drinks.
"For you, anything," he replied, winking.
Suddenly, a loud noise interrupted us. The doorbell rang sharply, and Nami rushed to open the door.
Behind it stood our neighbor, clearly fed up.
"What, did you come to join the party, old man?" Nami teased.
"It’s Monday. I have work tomorrow. Could you at least turn the music down?" Shanks replied, ignoring Nami’s comment.
"Oh yeah? You had your little party yesterday, now it’s our turn. Buzz off, old buzzkill," Nami said, slamming the door in his face. "Let’s keep the party going!"
"Nami, what are you doing? We could get in trouble. We just got here," I said, running to open the door again.
The man was still there, his hand on the doorbell, ready to ring again. His surprised expression gave away that he hadn’t expected anyone to open the door.
"I’m calling the police if you don’t turn down the volume. If I don’t do it, another neighbor will. Do you realize people have work tomorrow?" he reprimanded us.
"Please don’t call the police. I’ll turn the music down, and if that’s not enough, we’ll end the party. But please, don’t call."
"You have 10 minutes, or I will," he responded coldly.
I didn’t like his tone at all. I had tried to apologize, and he was still being rude.
"Fine, then I’ll call the police and tell them how you were staring into my room yesterday, you freak," I said, slamming the door in his face.
Nami, who was still behind me watching the whole scene, burst out laughing. "It's been a while since you showed your sassy side, it was about time!"
We both laughed at the situation. "We got stuck with the annoying neighbor."
I headed back towards Sanji, but just before I got there, someone grabbed my arm.
"Where are you going in such a hurry, gorgeous?"
I turned, pulling my arm away forcefully from the person’s grip. Kid—my ex—his voice was unmistakable.
A year ago, right after we graduated from college, our relationship was at its worst. It was the most toxic relationship I’d ever had, and taking advantage of the fact that I was moving back to my hometown, I left him, thinking I’d never hear from him again.
"What are you doing here?"
"I was invited, though I didn't get an invite from you. Guess it got lost on the way," he replied with a smug look.
I responded with a disgusted face, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.
"You know? I haven’t stopped thinking about you, not for a single day. Honestly, I only came tonight because I know we’re getting back together."
I threw a desperate glance in Sanji’s direction, and he immediately understood my non-verbal cues.
"Leave," Sanji said, approaching us.
"This doesn’t concern you, cook," Kid responded, clearly challenging him. "Get out of my sight."
"I said leave. Y/N doesn’t want to talk to you," Sanji replied, unfazed.
Kid got in Sanji's face, pushing him slightly while repeating, "You want a fight?" over and over.
Luffy and Zoro appeared from the nearby rooms, grabbing Kid and throwing him out through the front door.
"It’s best if you all leave," I said, my voice breaking.
I was overwhelmed and scared. The fact that Kid was back in town, knew I was here too, and even where I lived, made me anxious.
People quickly left the house after the scene. Nami turned off the music and started cleaning up the mess on the floor. I just stood there trembling.
"Don’t worry," Nami said while hugging me. "If he bothers you, the guys will take care of him. Nothing’s going to happen."
The rest of the week passed normally. We both started our PhDs, so we were so busy with work and tasks around the new house that the days flew by. Occasionally, we’d run into our dear neighbor, whom we awkwardly greeted—well, Nami did; I just ignored him. After our encounter, I didn’t even want to see him.
"He’s just an old freak, forget about him, Y/N," Nami said after hearing that I’d bumped into him by the window and that he’d waved at me. "I’m sure he’s waiting by the window for you to look out," she added with a laugh.
"Ughh, I don’t even want to think about it."
It was Friday morning. We’d been here for almost a week, and the sun had been shining every day except today, when it was pouring rain non-stop. That night, we had plans to meet at the bar right after class or work, so I wore a skirt, my best top, a cute sweater, and high boots.
The day went by normally, except for the constant rain. As I left, I headed to the bus stop. A huge Range Rover passed by, splashing through a puddle, soaking me from head to toe and ruining my outfit. Now I had no choice but to go home to change. "Damn idiot," I thought. I got on the bus, completely drenched, and shortly after, I got off, realizing I’d left my umbrella at the stop. I ran as fast as I could to the front door, which left me soaked to the bone.
To make matters worse, I couldn’t find my house keys, and Nami wasn’t home. I called her three times and sent her a ton of messages, but nothing—she didn’t answer. After 20 minutes, my wet clothes started to chill me to the bone, and I began to shiver from the cold. Nami still seemed oblivious, so I decided to text our group chat, but no one responded.
"What happened to you? Can’t get into the house?" My annoying neighbor was getting out of his Range Rover, holding grocery bags in one hand and an umbrella in the other.
"Yeah, I forgot my keys, and if you don’t mind, I’m going to keep trying to call my friend."
"You’re going to freeze. Want to come inside while you wait?" Shanks suggested, with a little smirk on his face.
NEXT CHAPTER
44 notes · View notes
jisungchan · 10 hours
Text
60 minutes | njm
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or, where your return to your favourite masseuse
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⚔︎ warnings: masseuse!jaemin x collegestudent!reader, afab! reader, hella petnames from jaem, softdom!jaemin, fingering (f!receiving), NO race specific descriptors (skin colour, hair texture, etc.), 69, swallowing, face sitting, blowjob, f! and m! receiving oral, NO body type specific descriptors (size of reader body parts, height, weight, etc.), no piv... jaem does whip his dick out though this time !!!... if i missed anything lmk!
word count: ~2k
a/n: i listened to sticker while writing the smut part LOL 
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it had been only 2 weeks since you last got your first massage, yet it seemed like it was both an eternity ago and just yesterday. you sat on your bed, staring at the time; you only had an hour until your appointment with him. 
when you left the parlour that day, your friend instantly attacked you with dozens of questions, none necessarily suggestive, but more so curious as to just how good of a masseuse you got lucky with to leave you a flustered mess in the passenger seat of her car. 
you didn’t tell her anything, you weren’t ready for the other onslaught of questioning that would arise out of her finding out you had a bit more than just a massage. 
the truth is, she kind of killed two birds with one stone with the last appointment. while it was true school was having you stressed out (more than usual), you were also dealing with a terrible case of sexual frustration as well. all the guys on campus are well… bad, to put it kindly. most of them just hook up to get themselves off, and the others are either celibate or already in a relationship. you wanted no parts in any of the different types of men who roamed the college town. 
it’s like ever since you had your little, appointment, with jaemin, he’s been in your sights. you never recalled ever seeing him before, yet now all of the sudden, he is everywhere on your campus. the first time you saw him, you were walking through the quad with a few of your friends, when he and his group of friends passed by. too involved, you didn’t even notice him smiling at you, until he cleared his throat, called your name, and walked directly up to you and lifted your chin to make eye contact with his soft palm. speechless, you looked up, confused. since when did he go here?
the second time you saw him, you were studying by yourself in the library, nursing your cup of coffee and attempting to read the chapters your professor assigned. suddenly, you heard the chair across from you drag across the tiled floor. looking up once again, you were met with a smiling jaemin plopping his bag on the next chair and placing his laptop on the table. small talk was made, and you both went on to study wordlessly for the next few hours. 
the next time you'll see him, will be in that same massage room as before.
walking in, by yourself this time, you were even more nervous than before. you know what you’re expecting, but what if you’re wrong for expecting anything more than a massage? you don’t want him to think you see him as a sex worker of sorts. your head was a mess and you spoke to the same receptionist and she walked you back to the room. the same room with the faint peach smell and music lulling in the back. again, you took off your clothes, still opting to keep your underwear and bra on for some modesty, and waited in the robe for your god-send of a masseuse to come in. hearing the door open, you peep your head up from its low position of watching your hands pick at your nails. he had that same smile as alway, and walked over to greet you with a kiss on your cheek. 
he untied your robe, this time with no regard for your shyness. i mean, his hand had quite literally been in your mouth and pu–
“i’ve been waiting to see your name on my schedule again princess, what took you so long?” he leads you to the table, not even placing a towel on your lower half. 
you press your head into the opening in the table, muttering out an excuse of an answer. how were you supposed to tell him you were a wreck thinking about coming again? let alone seeing him again? 
just as before, he works on your back, opting to pour oil right on your back, causing you to hiss and lift your hips at the cool sensation leaking all over your body. 
it feels like an eternity has passed once he finally ushers you to flip over. you are now met with his face for the first time since the massage started. little words were spoken before, but now jaemin wants to be more vocal, more bold. 
“do you remember what i told you last time, darling?” 
well, many things were said last time, but he quickly stops your thought process with him guiding your hand to his aching dick. 
“i said i didn’t get your throat good enough, how about we fix that now?” he smirks as you quickly sit up, your legs parted as he stands between them. 
he pulls at your wrists for you to stand, and he sits in the waiting chair at the corner of the room, pulling at you to follow him. he grabs the pillow and places it on the floor in front of him. 
“what are you waiting for? kneel.” he commands, he still has a demanding presence as he glares up at you. you make quick work to get on your knees, kneeling on the soft cushion underneath. you place your hands on the insides of his thighs as he manspreads in front of you. his look is literally laid back, as he has his pelvis front and centre as he lazily leans back into the chair. you wander up to the waistband of his grey sweats, noticing how they do nothing to hide his imprint. it dawns on you, this will be the first time you have actually seen his dick, and it’s going to be right in front of your face, begging to be dealt with. 
you push down his boxers and sweats in one go, causing them to pool at his ankles. his dick pops up and slaps against his shirt, staining it with some of the precum seeping from his tip. it’s a bit slender, but it is long. veins go up and down his shaft and you can only imagine the texture of them going in and out of you. you feel yourself starting to drool at the thought, and jaemin takes it in his hand and slaps your cheek with it.  
“already drooling over my cock? you haven’t even felt it yet, pretty.” he smirks as he taps it against your slightly ajar mouth. finally, you place your own hands on it, giving it a few pumps before bringing it up to your mouth and slipping the tip in. his precum is salty, but not too bitter. you hollow your cheeks as you take more and more in until you can’t fit anymore. 
you push your thighs together as you get to work on sucking him off. taking your tongue and pressing it on the underside of his shaft. you bob your head up and down and up and down as you pump the rest in your hand. the mix of your saliva and his leaky tip makes it easy for you to guide him in your body smoothly. you let it go with a loud pop! and prod at his tip’s slit with your tongue, making a deep groan come from his mouth. you take one of your hands to lift his shirt up, wanting to see his abdomen rise and fall rapidly with your movements. he sees your attempt, and throws his shirt over his head to allow you to bask in his body. you push your thighs even further together and start shifting them together, desperate for any friction. 
you place him back in your open mouth, this time determined to take all of him. you press your face further and further and further until your nose is met with his neatly trimmed pubic hair. your eye level with his v-line, and you feel yourself dripping onto the cushion beneath you. he moans as he takes your hair in his hand, holding you down as you force yourself to breathe through your nose. meanwhile, you take your hand to cup the rest of him drooping heavily below, massaging as you feel tears in the corners of your eyes. he finally lessens his grip to allow you to continue. 
however, that doesn’t last long as he yanks your body back up. 
“you don’t think i didn’t notice you rubbing those pretty little plush thighs together? what kind of man would i be if i only got myself off? ”with that said, he brings you back to the table, this time laying on it himself face up.
“don’t be shy, sit on my face baby.” 
shakily, you climb on top of him, and he pulls your underwear up to press against your core. you whine at the feeling and brace your hands on his calves, facing his still painfully hard erection. you feel his nose prodding at your hole through your thin, poorly drenched underwear before he moves them aside and pulls down your hips to be directly on his lips. 
you feel as he starts to eat you out like a madman. his tongue is flat against your slit, covering every area and leaving none to be discovered. his grip on your hips is deathly as he forces you even deeper into his face. after a few moments of gathering your strength, you grab his dick again and continue with your past antics. you’ve never done this position with anyone, and you’re wondering why the hell not?
you’re trying your best to take him in again, but the way he’s fucking you open with his tongue has you seeing stars and glitching. the way his tongue rolls over your clit has you moaning around his cock, especially when he presses his fingers into your lonely hole. intent on making him feel just as good as you were, you force your head back all the way down to fully engulf him in your mouth. and when you feel the vibrations of his moans, you almost came on the spot. you start grinding helplessly on his face, loving everything he’s giving you. 
“it tastes so much better from the source, i could stay here all day.” he whispers against your pussy, and it seemed like he was talking to her more than you. 
once you start playing with his heavy balls, waiting to be emptied into your warm, wet, mouth, he starts twitching in your mouth. he stops eating you out to let out some of the most beautiful moans you have ever heard. he curses out with your name and you know he’s close. you bring your nose to his base and lick him all over with your tongue, pushing him to unload down your throat. it doesn’t take much longer for him to spurt out his sticky smooth cum into your mouth. you take him out again and slap it against your tongue, urging him to give it all to you. and once he does, you sit up as he turns you around on his face.
now, looking down on him, he truly looks like a madman. hair messy and your slick covering the entire lower half of his face. he forces your hips down again, this time hooking either arm around them to keep you from getting up. you feel as his nose bumps your clit every time he presses his tongue in and of your seeping hole. you bring your hands to his hair, needing anything to ground you from the insane man between your thighs. 
it only took another good look at his face, his eyes closed in heaven devouring you, for you to come undone. you gripped his hair tightly, this time it was you pushing your hips down onto his face, and he gratefully took every last bit. easing up, you scooted back to sit on his stomach, and he sat up on his elbows, admiring you in both yours and his post-orgasm bliss. he licked his mouth clean as he took your face in his hands to kiss you. ironically, this was the first time you’ve felt his lips on yours. and they are even softer and more plush than they look. pulling away with a string of saliva connecting you, 
“next time, we won’t be in this room.”
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moon-my-beloved · 2 days
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Wicked Game: a little snippet of the next chapter :3
“I don’t think I can do this.” You mutter nervously, clenching your sweaty palms against the fabric of your gloves for the millionth time that day as you sit in the passenger seat of Laswell’s car. You two had arrived earlier than expected and were now parked outside the house that belonged to the four men Kate had been speaking of these last couple of days. You barely caught any of it though, too busy trying to figure out why you even agreed to do this in the first place.
You had managed to grasp little bits of information from the conversation, at least important ones that Laswell could provide to you. John being the oldest of friends she had met in London at a soccer game. A quirk on her lip forming as she recounts how their first conversation, more like a debate, started their friendship. They worked together, in an organization of some sort called ‘Task Force 1-4-1’ taking down bad guys as Laswell simply put it. That’s where the other three come in: Simon, Johnny, and Kyle. She had explained that they all have worked together on various missions she could not disclose but made it clear that these were people she trusted with her life.
“They’re family.” Crow's feet deepened as her eyes crinkled with the smile she wore while talking about them. You knew Laswell would never lie to you but at that moment you felt the warmth in her words with how much compassion and inclination she had for her team.
She had spared any detail of their personal lives, stating that there would be no point in meeting them if she just told you everything that she knew about these men. You’re here to get to know each other, she had said, not knowing that it was probably the last thing you wanted these four guys to accomplish.
It was really meaningless. You would just end up being a small blip in their minds once this whole ordeal is over.
“Getting cold feet on me?” An amused expression written all over her face at your troubling state. Turning off the engine and unbuckling herself, she turns her body to face you as she crosses her arms over her chest “Nervous?”
Letting out an exasperated sigh, you lean your elbow against the small space between the window and you, rubbing your fingers over your eyes before breaking the silence. “You know I’m not good at whatever this is,” Hand waving desperately in the air and eyes flickering towards the house and hers just to be met with a stoic face as she listens to you ramble about how you just want to go back home like you’re a spoiled child having a tantrum in the middle of a candy store. You might as well be at this point. Pressing your lips together in an attempt to stop yourself from saying too much, you sit up and look at yourself in the front view mirror. “I just don’t know what to do, Kate.”
‘You don’t want to disappoint her.’
A small chuckle can be heard from the woman along with a warm palm against your shoulder breaking you out of your thoughts as you lift your head just enough to meet Kate’s sympathetic yet serious gaze.
“You won’t mess it up if that’s what you’re worried about. I know this can be.. different for you but I promise, things will go great.” A soft smile on her lips as she gives your cheek a small pat before pulling away. “Just let me do the talking and we’ll go off from there, okay? Baby steps.” She reassures you, grabbing the small bags of gifts from the backseat for you to take. “Here, you’ll be my little delivery person for today.” She says as she hops off the car and closes the door behind her.
“Shit- wait!” You give yourself a quick once-over, barely managing to catch up to Kate as you try your very best to avoid any of the small gifts from falling off your arms. “Rude.” You say when you meet Kate at the front door.
“We don’t want to keep the boys waiting with how eager they’ve been to meet my ‘mystery’ friend.” The corner of her lip twitching up into a smirk as she points at the door. “You ready?”
“Just knock.” You say. A bit harsher than you wanted it to come out as you look the other way to find anything to distract yourself from your own misery.
Rolling her eyes, Kate lifts up her hand and lands three solid knocks against the wood of the door, shoving her own hands into the warmth of her puffer jacket. You think you hear Laswell complain about how cold it is before a booming voice can be heard coming from the other side of the door followed by heavy footsteps inching closer.
You tense up, feeling like your heart is about to beat itself out of your rib cage if that’s even possible with how anxious you are.
‘Fuck. Maybe you can make a run for it.’
As if Laswell could sense what you were thinking, she grabs the hem of your coat to hold you in place before the door swings open.
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cellophaine · 3 days
Text
Chapter VI: OUT
Masterlist
Pairing: Art Donaldson x F!Reader
Warnings: Fluff. Negative thoughts due to toxic parents.
Author's Note: Sorry for the late upload! I fell into a rut after the last update, and thought I could make deadline since this chapter is shorter. I hope you will enjoy this little intermission before things kick into gear in the next chapter!
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GIF Source: @/roranicuspond
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You woke up around noon on the 27th. Disoriented and starved, you rummaged through the cupboards for a quick meal. You scarfed the instant noodles down in silence. There was no taste, only texture processed in your distracted mind, but it was enough to keep your stomach from gurgling. Afterward, you turned your phone on to find missed calls, voice mails, and texts accumulated in a concerning number. Most of them were from Art. His earnest concerns and their urgency burgeoned with each message, and so did your guilt as you read them. Remorse festered and spread through your skin like a cling film as you listened to his voicemails. Art just wanted to know if you were okay, and here you were, not responding.
What could you say? You dwelled on each hypothetical response; you typed them out just to delete them. Your eyes followed the characters as they slowly disappeared, watching each word withdraw itself behind the blinking cursor until you were left with an empty field again. It felt wrong, not reassuring Art, but a part of you believed it was for the best. What would happen if he found out about the real you? What if you hurt him just like how you hurt your family? He should be protected from someone like you.
You sent a short message to Sophie, letting her know that you were okay. Fighting the urge to text Art again, you put the phone face down on the coffee table, ignoring the part of your mind that craved his attention and soothing words. You knew he would know what to say; he would tell you what you wanted to hear. But it was not his responsibility to give you that.
You were still in yesterday's clothes, and the faint smell of sweat was embedded in the soft fabric. Too paralyzed and tired to change, you fell asleep on the couch and woke up a few hours later. The sun had gone down, and the streetlights had gone up, casting its yellowish glow into the darkened apartment. You sat up, your movement slow and sluggish as a splitting headache started to pound in your head. There was an imprint of the cushion on one side of your heated cheek as you wiped the drool off. You reached for your phone, your eyes squinted at the artificial glow and noticed that there was another text from Art.
I'm worried about you. Can you call me?
Ignoring his text again, you returned the phone to the table and diverted your attention to the DVD collection that Ashley owned. After putting on a random movie, you sourced for some snacks, and ended up stuffing your face with chips until your throat parched. The barely processed chips left your body not too long after the movie was over. You hunched over the toilet, dry-heaving into it as your insides twisted and worked itself into a complicated knot. Your body ran hot, yet you couldn't help but shiver. Your body was leaden with fatigue, and all you wanted to do was to indulge in the comfort of your bed. After rinsing your mouth, you dragged your feet to your room and fell into your bed, your body exhausted from the effort.
/
The morning came, and you didn't feel much better. Repulsed by your own smell, you took a quick shower. Droplets of water drenched the back of your cotton shirt as you cleaned the mess from last night. The table was wiped down, the crumbs were swept up, and the dirty dishes were placed in the sink for later. You layered a sweatshirt over what you had on and headed out with the trash bag. After discarding it in the dumpster behind the building, you made your way to the park nearby. Walking along the lake's edge, you shuddered as a cold breeze whispered on your exposed skin. You crossed your arms, snuggling deeper into yourself. The winter here was nothing compared to the one in your hometown. Back home, the cold was biting and cruel, always hungry for any vulnerability. Had it always been that way? Or was it morphed and changed into something you could easily recognize? Your relationship with your parents was bleak and apathetic. It had modified your perception of home with a certain cynicism that was hard to let go of. You were grateful for the warmer weather here. It was a welcoming start.
You found a bench, brushed the fallen leaves off of the cold iron and sat down. The park's vacancy made you feel small and insignificant, yet, at the same time, safe and at peace. Right here, right now, you were no one, and your actions didn't have consequences. You could dwell on the simple act of existing, doing nothing, and that would be fine. You could pretend that in this little pocket of space and time, the outside world ceased to exist. In this undisturbed chasm, you were not suspended in your own mental struggle. You were not the source of your parents' distress. You didn't have to worry about how you were perceived by others, and whatever label they might want to imprint on you didn't matter. You felt a familiar prick in your nose again, and you sniffed hard, hopefully, to stave off the feeling.
Hunger curled in your stomach, reminding you that you hadn't eaten. It was 2:30 PM. You left the park shortly after and stopped by a convenience store. You walked home with a cold-cut sandwich and a soft drink, figuring groceries could wait until tomorrow.
From the gate, you could see a silhouette at the door to your building. The familiar blue scarf hung loosely around the arched neck that you had silently admired on multiple occasions. The dishevelled blond head was bowed, shielding their face from your eyes, but you didn't need a closer look to know. The gate rattled softly, and he perked up. You locked eyes, and your heart seized in your chest. Your name sounded like the sweetest note in his voice. Art stood up and crossed the distance between the gate and the door in a few strikes. You felt the pull as well, but there was a hesitation that slowed your steps. But that didn't stop Art from reaching you. He wrapped you in a tight hug, pressing his body to yours. Your arms hung limply to the sides. His mouth was right next to your ear when he spoke, and you felt his worries deep in the marrow of your bones.
"I've been calling and you haven't answered. I was so worried about you. Are you okay?"
You inhaled deeply, and your senses were filled with Art. The softness of his coat, the solid frame of his body, the warm scent of his skin. You closed your eyes, revelled in his presence, relieved in the comfort you had so desperately needed. There was so much you wanted to say, but they failed to rise above your bewilderment.
"Aren't you supposed to be in Vermont?"
Art pressed you further into himself.
"Yes, but I don't care about that right now. Are you okay?"
"Yes, I am. Why wouldn't I be?"
At that, he pulled away but still kept you within reach. An incredulous, almost accusatory look was evident as he explained.
"You didn't answer my texts, or calls, or voicemails. Made me think something bad happened to you."
You shook your head vehemently.
"No, nothing happened. I'm sorry that I made you come all this way, but I'm fine."
You tried to step out of his embrace, but his hold on you was unwavering. You braved a smile, your hand patted reassuringly on his forearm.
"You shouldn't be here. You should go back to Vermont and enjoy your vacation with your family."
Art stared at you, and you felt exposed under his gaze. For a long moment, he said nothing. The need to fill in the silence was too much, but you fought against it.
"Did you know that you're not good at lying?"
His voice was low yet piercing. His words mirrored your sister's from a few days before. Your brows furrowed, your eyes strained to keep the tears at bay.
"That's so weird. My sister said the same thing."
Your voice wavered, and your attempt at a smile faltered. Before you could give in, you forced yourself out of Art's hold and beckoned him to follow you.
"Let's go inside."
/
You locked the door behind you while Art looked around the apartment from the entryway, shrugging off his coat and scarf and leaving them on top of his carry-on. You felt relieved that you cleaned the place a little before you left. Art's eyes followed you, and you pretended that you didn't notice that as you put the bag of food on the counter.
"Do you want anything? Water? Food?"
Art followed you to the kitchen.
"No, I don't want anything. I want to know what happened, and why you're here."
You busied yourself with unpacking the small bag. Art came and stood by you so close that you could feel his warmth.
"Come on. Talk to me."
"It's … complicated."
"Then start slowly. From the beginning. Or give me a summary. Anything."
Only then did you turn to look at him.
"Why do you want to know so badly? This doesn't have anything to do with you."
"It has everything to do with me because I care about you. I like you."
His admission was like honey to your tea, making your unjust indignation resolve rapidly. You softened your tone.
"I … I like you, too. That's more of a reason why I shouldn't tell you."
"That's bullshit. If you really liked me, you wouldn't shut me out like this. It's unfair."
"It's not up to you to decide–"
He cut you off, making you swallow the rest of everything that you wanted to say.
"After all this time we've spent together, I feel like you're still hiding yourself from me. Every time I ask about your family, you always turn the question back to me."
Art held both of your hands in his, caressing your skin with his thumb.
"You listened to me when I wanted to vent about my parents. You even came to my match even though you had class. Let me take care of you like you've done with me."
"I had no idea that you felt that way. But … I can't."
You looked away from him, your head dipped to look at the floor, but his gentle grip on your chin made you confront him.
"Why not?"
"I don't deserve it."
"Why not?"
"Because … because …"
The more Art pushed, the less certain you became of your self-perception. Everything your parents had said about you came rushing back, and your mind obeyed their command as if you were still under their authority.
"I'm an ungrateful, awful person who's selfish. I will hurt you."
A faithful verbatim of what you were told. Art's face was a mix of everything, but what stood out the most was a contained anger. For your sake, you supposed.
"Did your parents say that to you?"
You nodded.
"They're wrong."
"And what do you know about me? I think my parents know me much, much better than you do."
"I might not know you the way your parents do, but they don't know you the way I do either."
You exhaled hard, unable to come up with a rebuttal. Deep down, you wanted to believe Art, wanted to believe that there was still at least one good thing about you. Here he was, imploring you to confide in him. And you stopped holding back. The tears came quickly, and steadily. They were hot on your cheeks, but they couldn't compare to the warmth that he enveloped you with. He pulled you into himself, his back bent to be closer to you. You rose on your tiptoes to nuzzle into the crook of his neck. Art ran a hand along your spine and woven it into your hair, holding your head where it lay, while the other wound around your waist, anchoring you to him. Even when the sobs reverberated through your frame, he absorbed them, his hold steadfast and strong.
/
After you had calmed down, Art led you to the couch. You told him about what happened. Art listened, not once interrupted you. It was one more person who knew about what you went through, but it was Art. Despite the exposure and sheer vulnerability that you had subjected yourself to, you had never felt safer.
Your eyes drooped, and it started to get harder to disguise your yawn. ARt beckoned you to put your head on his lap, and you didn't fight against it. His hand caressed your hair, drawing all the tension and easing you into a state of repose. You tried to keep your eyes open, so you asked him a question.
"Have you ever felt like … you were an inconvenience to your family?"
His hand slowed on your hair, but it didn't stop. It took him a moment to answer.
"All the time."
Your hand on his knee squeezed, expressing your sympathy.
"Sometimes, I think my parents put me into Mark Rebellato just to get rid of me."
You nuzzled your face against his thigh; the denim felt rough in the right way on your skin.
"I'm sorry. For what it's worth, I don't think you are."
You ended up falling asleep to the feeling of his gentle caress on your hair. Later on, when you were in a different state of consciousness, Art's lap was replaced by a pillow. You faintly heard the sound of dishes running in the kitchen. It was the last thing your head processed before you were pulled back into darkness.
You woke up a while later to the dead silence of the apartment. There was no sound of him. Almost immediately, you were filled with regret and anger for oversharing, for being so carelessly vulnerable to Art, who didn't deserve this burden. You dragged yourself into the kitchen for some water and found that the dishes were cleaned and put away. You felt powerless to a wave of emotions that started to build, and you bit on the insides of your mouth in an attempt to control it. The door to the apartment unlocked, startling you, and Art came through with a bag in hand.
"You're awake."
"You're … back."
You regarded him, your eyes widened in disbelief. He walked around to get to the kitchen, placing the bag on the counter.
"You seem surprised."
Art spared you a look of amusement.
"I thought I sent you running already."
He closed the distance between you and pulled you to him. Art kissed your temple, then placed his chin on your head.
"It'll take much more than that for me to run away."
He let you go, and returned to the bag he brought in with him.
"I bought us some food. I figured you needed something other than that sandwich."
He pointed to the sad plastic box that was still on the counter.
"To be fair, I was planning on doing groceries tomorrow. So, if you could hit the pause on the judgement …"
Every day after that, until school started, you were never apart for too long. Art essentially lived with you and kept you company throughout what would be a lonely week. He showed you his dorm room, which was a neat and clean single. Each day seemed to be better than the last, and it didn't slow down. Life felt like it was yours again. There was a sweet naivety that you possessed, that things could last like this forever as long as you cared for it with all of your heart. But your innocence was the hard-earned lesson that would come back to wreck you.
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