#shock gibson

[superherobriefings]

Shock Gibson

Creator(s): Clayton North

Alias(es): Charles Gibson

1st Issue w/Uniform: Speed Comics #13

Year/Month of Publication: 1941/05

pdsh.fandom.com/wiki/Human_Dynamo

[skeletonmunroe]

Minor Super-Hero Round-Up 014

Buncha really obscure guys and Shock Gibson.

[nomilkinmyteaplease]

The Vices of Terror

[mrsfoyet]

Went to see Ibson's Ghost on my birthday and i ended up under Thomas Gibsons Umbrella 😭

[lelianaslefthand]

spinning my simstarion around in cas and blushing and giggling and kicking my feet i need to be put down

[conceptualoblivion]

Sirius Gibson from Witch’s Heart is very annoyed and is also in low quality

(He remembered that Ashe Bradley exists, that’s why he has that look on his face)

[brbgensokyo]

i cant believe william gibbson was so shitty at portraying fan culture and stealing the trappings of otaku culture that it's got me actually doing academic reading on the subject

[callme6olet]

The Neon Glow

The struggle with cyberpunk is that it's supposed to be punk, but it's also all too real. The days of Neuromancer and Johnny Mnemonic are behind us. The idea of the sci-fi corporate supercity, this neon-limned sprawl of concrete, vice, and pollution no longer seems like a frighteningly possible dystopia, but like an exaggerated reality. At its inception, cyberpunk existed in a liminal state between the primary and secondary worlds. These stories were ostensibly set on a futuristic Earth, but there was a sense that it was an alternate future, that these worlds were a warning about something that only had the slimmest possibility of really happening. They read like secondary worlds in the same way that Middle Earth reads as a secondary world: familiar in its bones, in its soul, but not in its details. The fact that that gap is closing, that we're watching those prophecies unfold, is at the heart of the current generation of post-cyberpunk fiction. Gibson's Agency, Stephenson's Termination Shock. Matrix: Resurrections. These stories deal not only with the dread of capitalism's brutal advance, but also (in my opinion) with the writers' mixed feelings over having predicted it, over creating a vision and aesthetic so powerful that our world is actually changing--purposefully--to match it. Just look at the MetaVerse. A Stephenson invention, now marketed as a reality, like that's supposed to be exciting.

This is a problem for me, because I love writing cyberpunk. I stumbled onto The Matrix in middle school, but it didn't sink its teeth in until I came across Shadowrun 4th Edition at Borders. Here was a world that felt lived in, in much the same way that the original Star Wars must've wowed people in the 70's. Arguably, Star Wars and cyberpunk both fit into the classic definition of the latter: high tech, low life. Luke is a farmer; Han's a drug trafficker. And while Star Wars is and will remain my all-time favorite, the cyberpunk genre brought an edge with it, something that grabbed hold of me, hit the dopamine button in my brain: the neon glow. Holograms and flickering advertisements in a rainy night. Smog dyeing the sunset crimson and purple. LEDs glowing from every nook and cranny.

And now, your average gamer's battlestation looks like something out of Bladerunner. And part of me rebels against that: do we not realize that we're losing? We're a couple short steps away from corporate citizenship, for god's sake.

That sense of doubt, that itch, pokes at me when I'm writing and find myself describing more of the same. It made me feel sick watching Edgerunners. The idea of losing your family to random violence because you don't make enough for health insurance isn't fiction--so why is this show dressing it up like it is? Like that's just as outlandish as a thousand-foot holo ad, a street tough with mantis blades in her arms? Did the showrunners not know what they were doing, somehow? Were they just jumping into this genre because they read Neuromancer once, thought it was such a wacky idea?

But then--oh-so-late to the party--I started playing 2077. I rebelled against it at first, felt the same itch, the same existential dread. But then the story revved into overdrive, and all at once, I realized: this here, it's the classic example of tropes done right. The world might be forty years old, but it's flawlessly realized. And, more than that, it is aware of the genre it exists in, of the evolution. There's something about the game that makes me want to be V, to live in a world where you have to carry an SMG to leave the apartment. To live loud. Even a month ago, I would've said it's the feeling of agency, the idea that, in a world of violent conflict, each person is more able to make a large-scale impact. But I don't think that's it, not really. Night City crushes you, makes even the most outrageous victories seem short-lived, insignificant blips against the weight of the world.

The moments that shine out aren't the big ones, they're the small ones. Seeing Mama Welles at the wake. A visit from a stray cat. Going to the ripperdoc and seeing the option to change appearance, because in that world, it's just that easy, and all of a sudden, I can be seeing a face I like in the mirror.

And here's the crazy thing: part of this reality we've stumbled into, this pseudo-cyberpunk corporatocracy, is the fact that's it's almost that easy to switch bodies here, too. We're getting there. There is beauty in all things, even the dark ones. There is beauty, too, in the impetuous, borderline-nihilism of an edgerunner, in the willigness to engage in hopeless rebellion. And there is a beauty in neon lights.

The meaning of the word punk hasn't changed, never will, but its expression has. In the 80's, it meant drinking and smoking because Mom and Dad said not to. Now, what gives me hope is going to punk shows in underground venues and seeing drug-free youth graffitied across the PA. It's realizing that rebellion changes as society changes. That, even though we might live in a dystopia, that dystopia will never choke out the beauty of our reality. So, I'm keeping the mirrored shades; I'm switching the LED strips back on; and I'm going to keep writing about cities bathed in the neon glow.

[daydreamerdrew]

Speed Comics (1939) #23

[darlingsfandom]

could i request thomas gibson / aaron hotchner begging you to pull over so he could pee and you sucking him off instead? (feel free to ignore if this is outside of what you write sorry)

This is my wheelhouse friend 🩷

TW: smut, oral(m receiving), unprotected sex, public sex, slight fingering and swearing.

“And why me?” You asked crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the SUV.

“Because you LOVE us!” Prentiss smiled at you as she grabbed your shoulders and made her look at you. She gave you the puppy dog eyes and man did it work! She’s your best friend, how can you say no?

“Plus Hotch is less cranky when he’s with you, which means long road trip back with you and he’ll be complete sunshine!” JJ added as she grabbed her bag from the desk.

“Fine, I’ll do it.” You threw your hands in the air. The team gave you a group hug. It’s not that you didn’t want alone time with Aaron, it was more of how long could you keep your hands to yourself. You just spent the last three nights sharing a small motel room with him since there weren’t enough rooms, (part of why you didn’t care for small towns), and it was torture because he was there, right there to touch , to feel! But you didn’t. You wanted him so bad it made you look stupid.

“Hotch! You’re with Y/N in the SUV! We know you’re not supposed to be flying with your busted ear right now .” Prentiss pulled you from your daze as Aaron stood there with a look on his face that you couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or happy.

“I can drive by myself.” His words stabbed you in the gut.

“No you can’t, what if something happens to you!” You blurted out. “Besides it was either me or Reid!”

“Hey! I’m not a bad road trip buddy.” Reid frowned at you .

“I know you’re not honey, but Hotch can be.” Your words struck into Hotch like a knife as he furrowed his eyebrows together.

“Great! We’re all settled on that! we’ll see each other back at the office soon!” JJ spoke up as the team climbed into a different car to head to the Jet. You stood there with Hotch in the parking glaring at each other before you rolled your eyes and got in the car. Hotch followed behind and didn’t speak a word to you for the first forty five minutes of the drive.

“Okay let’s clear the air…” you spoke up making Hotch look at you slightly as he continued to drive down the dark road. “Clearly there’s a tension between us and it’s not okay with me.” Hotch nodded in agreement. “Correct me if I’m wrong , but it’s a sexual tension.” Hotch didn’t say a word. He continued on for another five miles before he pulled off to the side.

“You think ? Or you know?” He asked leaning back in the drivers seat. You chewed on your bottom lip a little bit as he ran his hands over his face before getting out of the car. You watched for a second before following him.

“Are you just going to leave me like that?” You asked as Aaron stood with his back turned to you.

“Y/N, I have to pee so unless you’re going to watch, I suggest you get back in the SUV and wa—- what are you doing?”

You stood in front of Aaron with a devilish grin on your lips.

“No one has to know Hotch.” You were down on your knees in front of him. Your knees digging into the soft ground as he stood there with a look of shock on his face. “Don’t be shy with me. We did just spend three nights sleeping in the same bed, you’ve seen me naked , granted that was an accident ! But as you just asked… I KNOW! There’s a sexual tension between us.” You purred softly while stroking his thigh. Aaron swallowed the lump in his throat before he grabbed your hand and placed it on his cock.

“WOW!” You whispered as you felt his cock twitch in your hand. You moved back a little and let Hotch relieve himself. He let out a little groan when you squeezed him. Before Hotch could say another word, the tip of his cock was between your lips.

“Fuck! Y/N! Smart and knows how to please a man? Good girl.” Hotch ran his fingers through your hair gently. You sucked gently on the tip watching his face twist in pleasure. There is no way to explain to anyone why you two were going to be late but this was worth it. Hotch held your head in his soft hands while slowly thrusting his hips forward. Your throat resisted at first making you gag around him but eventually your gag reflex faded and Hotch made it further down your throat. Your eyes were full of tears , make up running, drool hanging from your chin and rubbing against his balls. You looked like heaven to Aaron.

“Fuck! You’re doing so good for me sweetheart.” Aaron praised you as you sat there being face fucked on the side of the open road. Anyone could drive by see what a whore you were being for him. Aaron pulled away and a loud gasp left your lips. You looked up at him before he helped you up, he leaned in and kissed you softly while you reached between your bodies and rubbed his erection.

“Oh sweetheart, I’m going to fuck you!” He whispered against your lips before turning you around, yanking down your skirt and pushing you against the side of the SUV like you weighed nothing. Aaron lined the head of his cock against your wet folds and slowly pushed in.

“AARON!” You cried out as he stretched you out. Even with how soaked you were it was a little bit of a burn. Your hands gripped his shoulders while his hands gripped your hips.

“Such a tight pussy sweetheart and it’s MINE!” He growled into your ear. He was right! It had been his for awhile, you had longed for Aaron since you started at the BAU, but you never wanted to cross that line until recently.

“Fuck yes, I’m all yours! It’s your pussy!” Your voice was tiny and shaky as Aaron thrusted up into you. He grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist making his cock go deeper inside of your warm tight pussy.

“Yes it is! Who owns your pussy honey? Tell me! Who OWNS YOUR PUSSY?” He said with each snap of his hips getting harder .

“AARON FUCK! YOU OWN MY PUSSY!” Your words were a hot babbling mess as you held onto him for dear life. Aaron was bouncing you on his cock now making sure to watch your tits move along with each movement. Your body was shaking, on fire and overwhelmed. It was a high you’ve never felt. You enjoyed every second of Aaron using you . His thrust were getting sloppy, his pace was slowing down and his eyes were getting heavy.

“Oh Y/N! Fuck! I’m gonna cum! Y/N! FUCK!” Aaron moaned into your ear as his cum shot inside of you coating your insides. You could feel it wanting to drip out of you but it couldn’t go anywhere with his cock still buried inside of you. “Oh don’t think I’m done with you.” He whispered breathlessly. His fingers slid between your bodies and he found your swollen clit. Aaron waisted no time in rubbing it in fast circles making you whimper below him like a pathetic slut.

“Fuck right there! Yes Aaron ! Yes fuck!” Your thighs were shaking, your eyes went to close but Aaron used his free hand to squeeze your face to make you look him in the eye as your orgasm hit you hard. Your mouth hung open as his name escaped your lips. Both of you smiled at each other as the two of you slowly peeled away from each other and cleaned up.

“You know … the teams going to know right?” Aaron questioned you as the two of you were back on the road.

“Of course , but that doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t ?” He chuckled.

“Nope! We just gave them what they already knew!”

“You mean to tell me the whole team knew I liked you?”

“Well actually it’s the other way around… son of a bitch! “ you slapped your sore thighs.

“What?”

“They set it up so we’d have to be together.”

Hotch licked his lips before reaching over to squeeze your thighs. “Well I’m glad they did because I got my alone time with you and that’s what I’ve needed.”

[oceandolores]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 11

"I don't care where as long as you're with me."

summary: you finally feel like yourself again.

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, ped0ph!l1a, cann1bal!sm, human traff1ck1ng, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 11

masterlist of the series!

previous | chapter 10

next | chapter 12

The house was unassuming, hidden deep within the woods, a place where the world seemed to slow down, wrapped in a silence that felt almost sacred. As Joel pulled the truck to a stop, the headlights caught the outline of the modest, two-story house, casting long shadows over the overgrown path that led to the front door. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, a stark contrast to the suffocating air of the town you’d left behind.

Joel stepped out first, his eyes scanning the area, his hand resting protectively on the small of your back as he helped you out of the truck. The night was quiet, save for the distant chirp of crickets, but you could feel the tension in Joel’s body, the way his muscles were coiled, ready to spring at the slightest hint of danger.

You clung to his side, your steps faltering as exhaustion washed over you again, the events of the past day pressing down on your chest like a weight. Before Joel could knock the door as he carried you with his other hand, the door swung open, revealing Bill's face.

Bill’s grip on the shotgun tightened instinctively, his eyes darting between Joel and you, clearly assessing the situation. The man was all hard edges, a fortress in human form, and in that moment, you realized why Joel had brought you here. Bill was the kind of person who could handle whatever storm was brewing behind Joel’s haunted eyes.

“Jesus, Joel!” Bill barked, lowering the shotgun. His voice was rough, laden with concern and a tinge of anger. “What the hell are you doing here in the middle of the night? Where’s Ellie?”

But then his gaze landed on you, and you could see the shift in his expression—confusion, alarm, and something else that resembled pity. You felt small under his scrutiny, aware of how disheveled you must look, drenched in sweat and blood, carried on Joel's arms.

“Who the hell is this?” Bill’s voice softened slightly, but his suspicion remained.

Joel adjusted his hold on you, his grip firm yet gentle, as if he were afraid you might break apart. “I need your help,” he said, his voice low, almost pleading.

Before Bill could respond, another figure emerged from the shadows of the house. Frank, who had clearly been woken by the commotion, appeared at the top of the stairs in his pajamas, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Bill, what’s going—Joel?” Frank’s voice trailed off as he saw you, his eyes widening in shock.

Frank’s gaze darted from Joel to you, and his expression immediately shifted from confusion to concern. “What happened? Who is she?”

“She’s hurt,” Joel said, his voice strained as he tried to explain without revealing too much. “Please,"

Frank nodded without hesitation, stepping aside to let you both enter. Bill remained by the door, his eyes never leaving you, as if he was trying to piece together the story Joel wasn’t telling. But Frank, ever the softer of the two, helping Joel with you.

Frank’s panic was evident in his quick, almost frantic movements as he ushered you both inside. "Come, come, come on in," he urged, his voice trembling slightly as he guided Joel toward the couch. Joel still held you close, his arms wrapped protectively around you as he laid you down gently. Frank hurried off to grab some blankets, his footsteps echoing in the quiet house, while Joel knelt beside you, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort.

“Does it still hurt anywhere?” Joel’s voice was soft, but there was an undercurrent of worry that he couldn’t quite mask. His hands were gentle as they brushed over your bandaged wounds, checking to see if the makeshift dressings were holding up.

You managed a small shake of your head, but the truth was, everything still hurt. The adrenaline that had carried you this far was beginning to fade, leaving behind a deep, throbbing pain that seemed to settle into every part of your body. You were too tired to say much, the exhaustion weighing down your eyelids like lead.

Bill, who had been standing by the door, finally stepped forward, his face a mask of stern concern. “Alright, what the fuck is going on, Miller?” His voice was gruff, demanding answers. “What kind of trouble are you in this time?”

Joel ignored Bill’s question for a moment, his focus still entirely on you. He carefully lifted the edge of your shirt to check the bandage on your side, his jaw tightening as he saw the blood starting to seep through. “She’s hurt bad, Bill,” Joel said, his voice strained. “Do you have a first aid kit?”

Bill’s expression darkened, clearly unhappy with the situation, but before he could voice his displeasure, Frank returned with a bundle of blankets, handing them to Joel. “Here, Joel,” Frank said, his tone gentle as he knelt beside you. Joel took the blankets, draping them carefully over you, making sure you were as comfortable as possible.

“Bill,” Frank said, turning to his husband with a look that brooked no argument, “we need to help them. Get the first aid kit, now.”

Bill hesitated, his gaze shifting between Joel and you, clearly torn. But Frank’s firm tone left no room for debate. With a grunt of annoyance, Bill finally relented, stalking off to retrieve the kit. “This better not blow up in our faces, Joel,” he muttered as he disappeared into another room.

Frank sat down beside you, his eyes filled with concern as he looked you over. “What happened to her?” he asked Joel quietly, not wanting to pressure you to speak.

Joel hesitated, not wanting to reveal too much. “She's hurt bad,” he said simply, his voice low. “Punched hard, Frank.”

Frank’s eyes softened even more, and he reached out to squeeze your hand reassuringly. “You’re gonna be okay, sweetie," You smile at him weakly.

Bill returned a moment later, a large first aid kit in hand. He tossed it to Joel, who caught it with ease, but his expression was tense. “Alright, let’s get this over with,” Bill grumbled, still not entirely on board with the situation.

Joel opened the kit, his hands hovering uncertainly over the supplies. He was no stranger to injuries, but this was different—this was you, and the thought of causing you more pain made his hands shake slightly. Frank noticed and gently took over, his hands steady and practiced.

“Let me handle this,” Frank said kindly, taking the bandages and antiseptic from the kit. “You just keep her calm.”

Joel nodded, reluctantly stepping back to give Frank room to work. He kept his hand on your shoulder, his touch firm and comforting as Frank began to carefully clean and re-bandage your wounds. You winced at the sting, but Joel’s presence helped keep you grounded, the warmth of his hand reassuring in the cold, unfamiliar house.

Bill remained nearby, his eyes flicking between you, Joel, and the door, ever watchful. He didn’t trust easily, but his loyalty to Joel was enough to keep him from outright refusing to help. For now, that would have to be enough.

As Frank worked, the pain slowly began to subside, the new bandages providing some relief. You were still too weak to speak much, but the kindness in Frank’s eyes and the steadiness of Joel’s presence made you feel safer than you had in a long time.

Finally, Frank finished, securing the last bandage with a gentle pat. “There,” he said softly, giving you a reassuring smile. “You’re going to be okay. Just rest now.”

Joel squeezed your shoulder, his voice low and soothing as he spoke. “You'll be okay, I promise.”

You nodded weakly, the exhaustion tugging at your eyelids once more. You needed sleep, the kind that would pull you under and shield you from the chaos of the world. Frank noticed your weariness and suggested gently, “Joel, why don’t you take her up to the guest room? Let her get some rest.”

Joel nodded in agreement, his gaze never leaving you. Without another word, he scooped you up into his arms with a tenderness that contrasted with his usual rugged demeanor. You protested weakly, “I can walk, Joel.”

But he ignored your words, carrying you as if you weighed nothing, his focus entirely on getting you to a place where you could finally find some peace. Frank and Bill followed closely behind as Joel carried you upstairs, their footsteps echoing softly against the wooden floor.

The guest room was small but cozy, with soft, warm light spilling in from a lamp on the nightstand. Joel set you down gently on the bed, his hands lingering on your shoulders for a moment longer than necessary. Frank stepped forward, offering a kind smile. “Now, you try to get some rest. Things will look better in the morning.”

You managed a tired smile, your voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you, Frank. And Bill… thank you too.”

Frank’s smile widened, full of warmth and reassurance, while Bill gave a curt nod, his gruff exterior softened by the moment. “Yeah, well… just get some sleep,” Bill muttered, his voice rough but not unkind.

Frank, ever the thoughtful one, sensed that you and Joel needed a moment alone. “We’ll give you two some time,” he said, gently guiding Bill out of the room. As the door clicked shut behind them, the room fell into a comfortable silence, leaving you and Joel alone together.

Joel sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze searching your face for any signs of pain or discomfort. “How are you feeling now? does it still hurt?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You shook your head, trying to reassure him. “I’m fine, Joel. Really, I just need to sleep.”

Joel’s eyes softened, a flicker of guilt crossing his features. “I’m sorry… for everything. I’m gonna make sure you’re safe, that everything will be okay. I promise you that.”

You frowned, confusion and concern mixing in your expression. “Why are you saying sorry, Joel? You got me out from there,” you whispered, your voice filled with a fragile hope.

Joel sighed, his gaze drifting away from you for a moment as if searching for the right words. “Because… because I dragged you into this mess, darlin’. You didn’t deserve any of it."

His words hung heavy in the air, laden with regret. But to you, Joel had become the light that guided you through the darkness, the beacon that saved you when you thought you couldn’t go on. “But you did get me out, Joel. You saved me. You’re the only thing that feels real, the only thing that makes sense.”

He looked at you then, his brown eyes filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “I just… I wish I could’ve done it sooner. I wish I could’ve protected you better," His voice cracked slightly, the emotion in it raw and unfiltered.

You shook your head, reaching out to him, trying to soothe the worry etched into his face. “You’re here now, Joel. That’s all that matters. We’re here, together. I don’t care about anything else.”

He exhaled, as if your words were a balm to his weary soul, and he nodded slowly. “And I’ll make sure you’re safe now,” he said quietly.

Joel’s hand lingered on your shoulder for a moment longer, his thumb brushing softly against your skin, a silent comfort. “Now, you need to get some sleep. You’re exhausted, rest, and let me take care of the rest.”

He stood up, the bed creaking slightly as he moved away, and as he did, a sudden wave of fear washed over you. The thought of being alone, even for a moment, sent a shiver down your spine. You reached out, grabbing his hand, your voice trembling slightly. “Where are you going, Joel? Don’t leave me… don’t leave me alone.”

Joel stopped, turning back to you, his expression softening at the sight of your distress. He crouched down beside you, taking your hand in both of his. “I’m not leaving, darlin’. I just need to talk to Bill and Frank for a bit. I’ll be right downstairs. You’ll be safe here.”

You hesitated, “Are we staying here? With them?”

Joel nodded, his expression serious. “Yeah, for a little while. Just until we figure out what’s next and where we’re going."

You bit your lip, glancing towards the door. “About your friend, Bill… he doesn’t like me. I can tell.”

Joel chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Bill’s just like that with everyone. He’s a good man, even if he’s a bit rough around the edges. Don’t worry about him.”

You nodded, feeling a bit more at ease with Joel’s reassurances. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Get some sleep, okay? I’ll be back before you know it.”

You watched as he slowly stood up, his hand lingering in yours until the last possible moment. As he headed towards the door, he turned back one last time, his eyes locking onto yours with a promise.

With that, he slipped out of the room, leaving you to the quiet and the safety of the small guest room. The last thing you saw before sleep claimed you was the faint light from the hallway, a soft reminder that Joel was still close, watching over you even when you couldn’t see him.

As Joel quietly slipped out of the room, the soft glow of the hallway light was the last thing you saw before sleep claimed you, a small comfort that he was still near. Downstairs, the atmosphere was anything but calm.

The moment Joel stepped into the living room, Bill was already there, his arms crossed, his face a mask of tension and confusion. Frank, standing nearby, looked just as concerned, though his expression was softer, more curious.

“Now explain,” Bill demanded, his voice cold and laced with suspicion. He wasn’t one for pleasantries, especially not when the situation was as strange as this.

Frank’s eyes darted between Joel and the stairs leading up to where you rested. “Joel, what’s going on? Who is she? And where the hell is Ellie?”

Joel could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him as Bill's sharp eyes bore into him. There was no easy way out of this conversation, no simple explanation that could make everything clear. He knew that Bill and Frank deserved answers, but the truth was a tangled mess in his mind, knotted up with the raw emotions he’d been trying to keep at bay.

“It’s…complicated,” Joel began again, his voice low and burdened with the gravity of what he was about to say. The words felt heavy, each one dragging him down as he struggled to find the right way to explain. “She needed help, Bill. She was in a bad situation, and I couldn’t just leave her there.”

Bill’s eyes narrowed further, suspicion hardening his features. “And by ‘bad situation,’ what the hell do you mean?” His tone was cold, unyielding, as if he could freeze the truth out of Joel.

Joel knew that if he didn’t lay it all out, Bill would never trust him. He drew in a deep breath, steeling himself for what he had to do. “She’s… she’s been through hell,” Joel said slowly, trying to piece together a version of the truth that would make sense. “Her family… they weren’t good to her. I had to get her out of there."

"Now, hold on, who is she to you exactly?" Bill asked again, "She's...she's uh my neighbor, but she's under my care now," Joel answered.

Frank, who had been listening quietly, furrowed his brow in confusion. “What does that even mean, Joel? ‘Under your care?’ What are you trying to say?”

Joel felt his chest tighten, the words caught in his throat. How could he explain something so complex, something that even he was struggling to fully understand? “I saved her from her family,” he said, the words coming out more forcefully than he intended.

Bill’s expression shifted from suspicion to something darker, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “You kidnapped her?!”

“No, it’s not like that,” Joel snapped, frustration bubbling over. I didn’t kidnap her. She wanted to leave, and I… I helped her.”

“It’s complicated. I… I care about her. We care about each other.”

The room fell into a stunned silence. Frank’s eyes widened in shock, while Bill’s face twisted with disbelief. “What?” Frank whispered, almost as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

The room seemed to shrink as Joel stood under the weight of their incredulous stares. Frank’s voice was barely a whisper, yet it cut through the tension like a knife. “What do you mean?”

Joel felt like he was drowning, the pressure of the situation pressing down on him, suffocating him. His mind was a chaotic storm of guilt, desperation, and something else—something he didn’t want to name but couldn’t ignore. His thoughts twisted in on themselves, a tangled mess of emotions that left him reeling. The words felt like shards of glass in his throat, but he forced them out anyway, knowing he had to make them understand.

“I love her,” Joel said, his voice rough, strained. “I had to save her… I couldn’t just leave her in that hell.”

Bill’s face contorted with anger, his disbelief giving way to a rising fury. “The fuck do you mean, love her?! She’s a fucking kid, Joel! How old is she?!” His voice cracked with the force of his emotion, his mind struggling to wrap around what Joel was saying. “She looks barely older than Ellie!”

“She’s not a kid,” Joel snapped back, frustration and fear driving his words.

Frank’s expression darkened with a mix of disbelief and sorrow. “Joel, what have you done?” His voice was softer now, laden with a deep sense of concern.

“I had no choice,” Joel muttered, his voice tight as he fought to keep his emotions in check. “I couldn’t see her like that anymore.”

Bill’s eyes flashed with a dangerous light, his voice rising. “So you kidnapped her from her family? Is that why you ran away?! Why the hell would you get involved in your neighbor’s business?”

Joel’s control snapped, the words tearing from him like a wound ripped open. “Because her father was fucking beating her!”

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of Joel’s confession hanging heavy in the air. Frank’s mouth opened, then closed, as he tried to process what he’d just heard. Bill’s fury faltered, replaced by a cold, steely determination.

Joel’s chest heaved as he stood there, his emotions laid bare for them to see. He didn’t know how to explain what he felt, how to make them understand the desperation, the fear that had driven him to this point. All he knew was that he couldn’t let you go back to that life, couldn’t let you suffer any longer.

“I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing, she could have fucking die!” Joel said, his voice raw with emotion. “I couldn’t let her stay in that house, with that bastard… I had to get her out.”

Frank looked at Joel, his expression a mix of pity and resignation. “And what now, Joel? What do you plan to do?”

Joel’s voice trembled as he spoke, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him like a vise. “I don’t know… I just need time to figure it out.”

His desperation bled through each word, the facade of strength he’d always worn so carefully crumbling before their eyes. “J-just, just let us stay for a couple of days, till we—I—figure out what’s next.” His voice wavered, breaking under the strain. “She needs to heal, both mentally and physically. Please.”

It was a word Joel had never used lightly, a word that carried a weight of its own, something raw and vulnerable that neither Bill nor Frank had ever seen in him before. Joel had always been so cold, so unyielding—a fortress of a man who never let anyone see the cracks in his armor. But now, standing before them, he was exposed, fragile in a way that made Frank’s heart ache.

For a moment, the room was steeped in silence, thick with the tension of a decision that could not be undone. Frank’s gaze softened as he looked from Joel to Bill, who stood rigid, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Bill’s face was a storm of conflicted emotions—wariness, frustration, and a reluctance that spoke to his deep-seated aversion to complications.

“Bill,” Frank finally said, his voice gentle, almost pleading. “Let them stay. Just for a while.”

Bill’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he considered Frank’s words. He wasn’t one for sentimentality, and the thought of being dragged into a mess that wasn’t his own made his skin crawl. But there was something in Joel’s eyes, a fragility that tugged at the edges of his resolve, even if he didn’t fully understand it. He didn’t like this—any of it—but he also couldn’t bring himself to turn Joel away.

With a heavy sigh, Bill relented, though his voice remained gruff. “Fine. But only for a few days, and don’t bring any more trouble to my doorstep.”

Frank stepped forward, placing a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “Take as much time as you need,” he said softly. “We’ll help however we can.”

Joel nodded, the relief in his expression tempered by a lingering wariness. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice sincere but guarded.

Even in his gratitude, Joel couldn’t fully let his defenses down, couldn’t allow himself to believe that everything would be okay just yet. The path ahead was still dark, still uncertain, but at least, for now, he had a place to breathe.

Bill glanced up and down at Joel, his expression somewhere between exasperation and concern. “Jesus Christ, clean yourself up. You look like shit, Miller,” he muttered, his voice gruff but not unkind. Without waiting for a response, Bill turned on his heel and headed towards his bedroom, leaving Joel standing in the dimly lit living room.

Frank lingered for a moment longer, his eyes soft with understanding. He disappeared into another room and returned with a small stack of clothes—worn but clean, likely Bill’s—handing them to Joel. “Here, these should fit. Go clean yourself up and get some rest."

Joel took the clothes with a nod of thanks, his eyes lingering on Frank’s face.

As Frank turned to leave, heading toward his bedroom, he paused in the doorway, glancing back at Joel. “I’m gonna get some sleep now. Make yourself at home. If you need anything, just knock our bedroom's door,"

Joel nodded again, the weight of the night pressing heavy on his shoulders. "Thanks, Frank,"

“Goodnight, Joel,” Frank said softly before disappearing down the hall.

"Goodnight,"

Joel stood there for a moment longer, the quiet of the house settling around him like a blanket. He took a deep breath, clutching the clothes in his hand, then slowly made his way to the bathroom. As he closed the door behind him, the faint sound of water running echoed through the small space. Finally alone, Joel allowed himself to let go, if only for a moment. He turned on the shower, letting the steam fill the room, hoping the hot water could wash away not just the grime of the day, but the weight of everything that had happened.

After finishing his shower, Joel stepped quietly out of the bathroom, the steam still lingering in the air like a fading memory. His body ached, not just from the day’s events, but from the weight of decisions that had led him to this moment. The clothes Frank had given him felt strange against his skin—clean, unfamiliar—but they were a comfort, a small kindness in a world that had shown him little.

As he approached the guest bedroom, he hesitated at the door, his hand resting on the doorknob. The soft sound of your breathing reached him, steady and rhythmic, a fragile reminder that you were still here, still with him. He opened the door slowly, careful not to let the light from the hallway spill in, and stepped inside.

There you were, curled up on the bed, lost in the depths of sleep. Joel’s heart ached at the sight of you, so small and vulnerable beneath the covers. The bruises on your face had darkened, a cruel testament to the hell you’d been through. The bandages on your arms and legs stood out starkly against your pale skin, a reminder of the pain you’d endured. It broke something deep within him to see you like this, so fragile and hurt, but at the same time, it steeled his resolve.

He had done this. He had brought you here, taken you from one life and thrust you into another. The consequences were unknown, whatever it took, he would keep you safe. You were his responsibility now, and he was okay with that—more than okay. You were worth every risk, every sleepless night, every lie he’d have to tell to keep you from harm.

Quietly, Joel made his way to the bed and carefully lay down beside you, trying not to disturb your sleep. But as soon as his weight settled onto the mattress, you stirred, your body instinctively shifting closer to him, seeking the comfort and safety that only he could provide.

“Joel…” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, heavy with sleep and something deeper—an unspoken fear that clawed at your subconscious even now.

“I’m here, baby,” Joel whispered back, his voice tender, filled with a promise he would never break. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch as gentle as he could make it.

You sighed softly, your body relaxing as his words reached you, even in your half-dreaming state. “Please… don’t leave me,” you mumbled, your voice laced with a desperation that tugged at Joel’s heart.

“I won’t, sweetheart,” Joel assured you, his voice steady, though inside, he was anything but. “I'm not going anywhere, I’m here with you always."

You turned in your sleep, moving closer until your head rested against his chest, your arms wrapping around him as if to anchor yourself to the only solid thing in your world. Joel hesitated for a moment, feeling the warmth of your body against his, the trust you placed in him so absolute, it made his chest tighten with an emotion he couldn’t quite name. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his own.

He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, inhaling the faint scent of your hair, a mix of shampoo and something uniquely you. As he lay there, his mind swirled with thoughts of what had been, what could be, and what might come next. The future was a shadowed path, filled with dangers he couldn’t yet see, but none of it mattered if you were by his side.

Joel’s eyes drifted to the ceiling, his thoughts growing heavy as he tried to make sense of it all. There was no turning back this time, no easy way out, but he found a strange peace in that. For so long, he had been adrift, lost in a world that had taken so much from him. But now, with you in his arms, he felt something he hadn’t felt in years—purpose.

He would protect you, no matter the cost. Whatever the world threw at them, he would be ready, because you were worth it. You were the one thing in his life that made sense, the one person he couldn’t afford to lose. And for you, he would face anything.

As sleep finally began to claim him, Joel held you a little tighter, the weight of the world pressing down on him, but somehow feeling lighter with you in his arms. Whatever came next, whatever battles they would face, he knew one thing for certain—he wasn’t alone anymore. And as long as you were with him, that was enough.

***

In the days that followed, the world around you seemed to move in slow motion. The pain from your injuries was still there, a dull ache that lingered beneath the surface, but it was the emotional wounds that cut the deepest. Every time you closed your eyes, you were haunted by memories—flashes of your father’s anger, of Jamie’s twisted smile. They came to you in dreams, turning peaceful sleep into a battlefield where you fought to escape their grasp.

During the day, the sun brought with it a semblance of normalcy. Bill and Frank’s house became a strange kind of sanctuary, a place where you could hide from the world, from the things that had chased you here. But even in this safety, there was an undercurrent of fear that you couldn’t shake. Guilt gnawed at you, especially when you thought of your mother, of how you had left her behind. You missed Emma and Ellie, their voices a distant echo in your mind, reminding you of what you had lost, of the life that had been taken from you.

Joel stayed close, never letting you out of his sight for too long. His protectiveness was a constant presence, a shield against the darkness that threatened to consume you. He bought you new clothes, little things to try and make this feel like home, though he never allowed you to leave the house. It was as if he was building a wall around you, a fortress where nothing could hurt you again. But in the quiet moments, when it was just the two of you, you could see the cracks in his armor. He was struggling too, his thoughts often drifting to Ellie, to the life he had left behind to save you.

Joel had bought a new burner phone, a cheap, untraceable device that he used to contact Tommy. He couldn’t risk calling Ellie, not with the possibility that your father might report him. Every time he picked up the phone, you could see the conflict in his eyes, the weight of the choices he had made pressing down on him. He would sit in silence for hours, lost in his thoughts, his brow furrowed with worry. You wanted to tell him that it was okay, that you understood why he had done what he did, but the words never seemed to come out right.

At night, the nightmares were the worst. They came without warning, dragging you back to the terror of what had happened. You would wake up screaming, your heart pounding in your chest, the taste of fear thick in your throat. And every time, Joel was there, pulling you into his arms, whispering soft reassurances as he held you close. But even as he comforted you, you could feel him breaking, the weight of your pain becoming too much for him to bear. His voice would crack, his grip tightening as if he could keep the nightmares at bay just by holding you.

Frank had become a quiet presence in your life, always there with a kind word or a gentle smile. He helped you a lot, especially on the days when the world felt too heavy. He would sit with you in the kitchen, guiding your hands as you helped him cook, his voice soft and steady as he talked about anything and everything. There was a warmth to him, a kindness that made you feel safe, like you could tell him anything and he would understand.

As you stood at the counter chopping vegetables, the rhythmic sound of the knife meeting the cutting board filled the kitchen, a small comfort in the routine. Frank glanced over at you, his expression warm but thoughtful, clearly gauging how you were holding up after everything.

"How are you feeling, kid?" he asked, his voice gentle, carrying a note of genuine concern.

You paused for a moment, considering the question. The past few days had been a whirlwind of emotions—fear, relief, guilt—but here, in the quiet safety of Bill and Frank’s home, you were starting to feel a semblance of normalcy. You turned to Frank with a small smile, nodding. “I’m good,” you replied softly, though the words carried more weight than they seemed.

Frank returned your smile, sensing that there was more beneath the surface. “That’s good to hear,” he said, his tone encouraging.

Taking a breath, you decided to open up a bit more. "I really appreciate everything you and Bill have done for us," you began, your eyes meeting his as you spoke earnestly. "Letting us stay here, helping us get back on our feet… I know it’s not easy having strangers around, and I just want you to know how grateful I am. You didn’t have to do any of this."

Frank’s expression softened, and he shook his head dismissively, though the kindness in his eyes remained. “Ah, it’s nothing. Joel’s a good friend of ours, and now you are too. We look out for our own, you know?” He paused, then added with a light chuckle, “And besides, we could use the company. Bill and I don’t get many visitors these days.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, feeling a warmth spread in your chest. “Thank you, Frank."

Frank waved a hand, as if brushing off the praise. “Hey, friends help friends. That’s just how it works, right?”

You nodded, your smile lingering as you turned back to the vegetables. The ease with which Frank treated you, the way he made you feel welcome, was a balm to your frayed nerves. Despite everything that had happened, there was a sense of belonging beginning to take root here.

As the conversation naturally lulled, Frank’s gaze drifted to the small cross hanging around your neck.

His curiosity piqued, and he smiled warmly, attempting to lighten the mood with a bit of banter. “You’re a believer, I see?” he said, nodding towards the necklace. “Maybe that’s why you’ve got this positive aura around you.”

You chuckled softly, fingers instinctively reaching up to touch the cross. “Yeah, I am,” you replied, the weight of the necklace familiar and comforting against your skin. “Grew up very religious.”

Frank, still focused on chopping vegetables, glanced at you with a curious smile. “Are you a believer?” you asked, genuinely interested in his story.

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “No, I left God a long time ago. My parents were deeply religious, though. Strong believers, the kind who thought they had everything figured out until their son turned out to be… well, me. One day they decided to just threw me away like that,"

You felt a pang of empathy and glanced at Frank, seeing a flicker of old pain in his eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that,” you said gently.

Frank smiled, though there was a trace of bitterness in it. “No, no, it’s alright. Look at me now—I’m doing just fine, aren’t I?” He chuckled, but the words carried a deeper meaning. “Besides, I’d rather be alone and true to myself than pretend to be someone else just to make others happy.”

His words struck a chord deep within you, echoing the thoughts you’d harbored for years. You had always felt trapped, suffocated by the expectations and strictures imposed by your parents, especially your father. Living under their roof had felt like being in a cage—your every breath measured, your every step scrutinized. The cross around your neck suddenly felt heavier, not because of its physical weight, but because of the symbolic burden it carried, a reminder of all the years you spent trying to conform to a version of yourself that wasn’t truly you.

Your mind drifted, the kitchen around you fading as Frank’s words swirled in your thoughts. The yearning for freedom, the desperate need to escape the confines of your old life, had been a constant in your heart for so long.

Frank’s voice broke through your thoughts, drawing you back to the present. “Until I met Bill,” he continued, his tone softening with affection. “I wasn’t alone anymore.”

You smiled, understanding exactly what he meant. You had found that with Joel too—someone who didn’t just let you be free but walked alongside you in that freedom, making sure you never felt alone in it. With Joel, the darkness of your past didn’t feel so overwhelming, and the future, once so uncertain, now held the possibility of hope. He had become your anchor, the person who reminded you that you didn’t have to carry the burden of your past by yourself.

He had given you the space to breathe, to be yourself without judgment, without the crushing pressure to be someone you weren’t. With Joel, you could finally exhale, no longer suffocating under the weight of expectations.

“How long have you and Bill been together?” you asked, genuinely curious about the life they had built together.

Frank’s face lit up with a soft, contented smile. “Oh, it’s been about ten years now,” he replied, a hint of pride in his voice.

“Wow, that’s a long time,” you said, admiration clear in your tone.

“Yeah, it is,” Frank agreed. “We’ve had our ups and downs, like any couple, but… well, there’s no one else I’d rather spend my life with. He’s my home.”

The simplicity and truth in his words touched you deeply. You couldn’t help but think of Joel again, wondering if one day you could find that same sense of home with him—a place where you could finally rest, where the wounds of the past could slowly heal, and where the future, no matter how uncertain, didn’t seem so daunting anymore.

***

The night was still, the kind of quiet that felt heavy, almost suffocating, as Joel sat on the front porch, a cigarette dangling between his fingers. The faint glow of the ember was the only light in the darkness, aside from the occasional flicker of the beer bottle as he lifted it to his lips. He took a long drag, the smoke curling up into the night air, blending into the shadows that seemed to wrap around him. The weight of the last few days pressed down on his shoulders, the uncertainty of what lay ahead gnawing at him.

Three days. It had been three days since he and you arrived at Bill and Frank’s, and every second felt like the ticking of a clock running out of time. He hadn’t heard from Tommy since that last conversation, where his brother had warned him that your father had gone to the sheriff, reporting you as kidnapped. Joel’s grip tightened around the bottle at the thought. Kidnapping. The word felt like a noose tightening around his neck. He hadn’t taken you; he’d saved you. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself. But with the sheriff and the police now involved, the danger was creeping closer, and he knew they couldn’t stay hidden forever.

They had to keep moving. It was the only way to survive. The thought of staying in one place too long made Joel’s skin crawl. The longer they stayed, the more likely it was that someone would come looking for them. And then there was the fear, gnawing at the edges of his mind, about what would happen if you found out about Jamie Lee and Pastor Ben. The memories of that night haunted him, the blood, the desperation, the cold finality of what he had done. What would you think of him if you knew? Would you still see him as your protector, or would that look in your eyes change?

Joel took another drag from his cigarette, the smoke burning his lungs as the thoughts churned in his head. The idea of settling down somewhere new was tempting, but where could they go that would be safe? Where could they build a life that didn’t feel like they were running every second of every day? He knew he had to talk to you, to figure out what you wanted, but the thought of that conversation made his chest tighten. He didn’t want to burden you with more decisions, not when you were still healing, but they couldn’t keep living in limbo. They had to make a choice, and soon.

He crushed the cigarette beneath his boot and drained the last of his beer, the bitterness of it lingering on his tongue as he stood up. The house behind him was quiet, save for the faint sounds of Bill and Frank finishing up the dishes. Joel took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he had to do next. He needed to check on you, to see if you were ready to have that conversation. But as he walked through the door and made his way down the hall, he stopped short at the sight of you.

You were on your knees, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a halo around you as you prayed. Joel’s heart twisted at the sight, a mixture of emotions crashing over him. Guilt, fear, love—all of it tangled together, choking him. He watched you for a moment, not wanting to interrupt, not wanting to break the fragile peace you seemed to find in those moments.

As you knelt there, your hands clasped tightly together, your thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions, swirling like a storm inside you. The familiar comfort of prayer was the only anchor you had left in a world that felt like it was spinning out of control. You whispered the words you had been taught since childhood, the prayers that had been your solace through so many dark times. But tonight, those prayers felt different, heavy with the weight of everything you’d been through.

You prayed for your mother, for the safety of the family you had left behind. You prayed for Emma, for Ellie, hoping they were okay, hoping they didn’t blame you for leaving. But most of all, you prayed for strength, for the courage to face whatever came next. The fear that had been your constant companion these last few days was a shadow that you couldn’t escape, creeping into your thoughts, into your dreams. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw your father’s face, heard Jamie’s voice. It haunted you, a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. And yet, as long as Joel was with you, you felt a glimmer of hope, a small light in the darkness. He was your protector, your shield against the world, and the thought of losing that safety terrified you more than anything else.

You prayed for Joel too, for the man who had risked everything to keep you safe. You knew he was struggling, that the weight of everything was pressing down on him just as much as it was on you. You could see it in the lines of his face, in the way he was always on edge, always watching, always worrying. You prayed that he would find peace, that he wouldn’t be consumed by the guilt that you could see lurking in his eyes, even if he tried to hide it from you. You prayed that he wouldn’t have to carry this burden alone, that together, you could find a way to move forward, to build a life that wasn’t just about surviving but about living.

When you finally finished, you sat back on your heels, taking a deep breath as you tried to steady your racing heart. You hadn’t heard Joel come in, but when you looked up, you saw him standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, and for a moment, neither of you spoke, the air between you heavy with everything that had been left unsaid.

Joel stepped into the room, his movements careful, almost hesitant, as he approached you. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion.

You shook your head, offering him a small smile. “You didn’t."

You were wearing a soft, flowing white nightgown that brushed against your skin like a whisper, your hair now loose, cascading over your shoulders in waves. It was a small comfort, something familiar in a world that had become so unpredictable. As you prepared the bed, fluffing the pillows and smoothing out the covers, Joel moved with quiet efficiency, closing the door behind him before he began to undress.

He pulled his shirt over his head, the muscles in his back rippling with the motion, and you couldn’t help but watch him, your eyes tracing the lines of his body. There was something mesmerizing about the way he moved, each action deliberate and controlled, a testament to the strength that had kept you both alive this far.

But beneath that strength, you saw the weight he carried—the burden of the choices he had made, the lives he had taken to protect you. It tugged at your heart, a pang of guilt that you couldn’t quite shake. This was your fault, after all. Joel had left everything behind for you, risked everything, and now, he was bearing the consequences of that choice.

He slipped into a clean shirt and a pair of worn sweatpants, his movements efficient but unhurried, as if he was trying to prolong the moment before he had to speak. You watched him with a mixture of love and sorrow, the emotions swirling inside you like a storm.

Joel was your anchor, the one constant in a world that had been turned upside down. But at what cost? The thought haunted you as you climbed into bed, your eyes still following him as he finished dressing.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice cutting through the silence, thick with concern.

“Couldn’t be better,” you replied, though the words felt like a half-truth. Physically, you were healing, but the wounds that ran deeper, the ones that cut into your soul, those were far from mended. You had been thinking about that, about what came next, and as Joel continued to speak, you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same.

“I’ve been thinking,” Joel began, his tone more serious now as he turned to face you. You watched him, your heart clenching as he spoke, the intensity of his gaze making it clear that whatever he was about to say was weighing heavily on him.

You patted the bed next to you, inviting him to sit, to share the burden that had settled between you. Joel hesitated for a moment before crossing the room, the bed dipping slightly under his weight as he lay down next to you. The warmth of his presence was a comfort, even as the gravity of the situation pressed down on you both.

“We can’t stay here long,” Joel said, his voice firm, though there was a tremor beneath the surface that betrayed his worry. “I spoke to Tommy a couple of days ago… about your dad. He told me that he’s reported me to the sheriff, said I kidnapped you.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. You had known this was coming, but hearing it out loud made it feel all the more real. The sheriff, the police—it was only a matter of time before they came looking, before they started asking questions that neither of you could afford to answer.

“Tommy told me not to contact him,” Joel continued, his voice tightening with frustration. “He said he’d reach out to me if there’s any news, but until then… we’re on our own. For our safety, we’ve got to keep moving. But I need to know if you’re ready. I don't want to push you,"

You could hear the unspoken question in his words—whether you were strong enough to keep going, whether you could survive what came next. But there was something else, too, a flicker of doubt in his eyes that made your heart ache. He was worried about you, yes, but he was also afraid of what might happen if you weren’t ready. Afraid of what it would mean if you couldn’t keep going.

“I’m okay,” you said softly, reaching out to take his hand in yours. His skin was rough, calloused from years of hard work, but his touch was gentle, grounding you in this moment. Joel leaned into your touch, his heart warming as if it found a safe harbor in your presence. His lips curled into a small, genuine smile, one that softened the hard edges of his face.

“Well,” Joel began, his voice low and steady, “we might have a long trip ahead of us.” He paused, looking into your eyes as if searching for any sign of hesitation. “Where do you want to go?”

For a moment, you were lost in thought, the possibilities stretching out before you like an open road. This was the moment you had always dreamed of—the chance to finally leave behind the small town that had suffocated you for so long. Excitement sparked within you, a flicker of hope that began to burn brighter with each passing second. “What about California?” you suggested, your voice filled with a newfound enthusiasm. “We don’t have to live in Los Angeles… we could settle in a small town, like Davis? Some quiet place, you know?”

Joel considered your words, his gaze never leaving yours. “Wherever you want us to go,” he said, his tone sincere. “I don’t care, as long as you’re with me.”

Your heart swelled at his words, a sincere smile spreading across your face. The love you felt for him in that moment was overwhelming, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Joel’s expression softened as he watched you, as if he could feel the shift in the air between you.

A thought seemed to cross Joel’s mind, and his eyes lit up with a new idea. “Since you’ve never been anywhere outside,” he began, a hint of excitement creeping into his voice, “how about we take a trip? A real one. We could go to every state in the USA, see everything there is to see. And then, when we’re ready, we can settle down in Davis, or wherever you want.”

His words hung in the air, the idea taking shape in your mind. A trip across the country, just the two of you, exploring the world together—it felt like a dream. You could almost see it, the endless highways, the changing landscapes, the freedom that came with each new place. The thought of it filled you with a sense of adventure, a spark of life that you hadn’t felt in so long.

“You really mean it?” you asked, your voice filled with awe. “You’ll take me on that trip?”

“Why not?” Joel replied, his smile widening. “We’ve got time for ourselves now. No rush, no place we have to be. We can just… live. Just you and me now, doll.”

Without thinking, you threw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. The warmth of his body against yours, the strength in his arms as he held you close—it was everything you needed, everything you had been longing for. You pressed a kiss to his lips, a soft, grateful gesture. “Thank you,” you whispered against his mouth, your voice trembling with emotion.

But as the excitement faded, reality began to creep back in, and with it, the weight of guilt that had been gnawing at you for days. This was all because of you. Joel had left his life behind—left Ellie, Tommy, his family, left everything he knew—because of you. You had dragged him into this mess, turned him into a fugitive. The thought of it made your chest tighten with regret.

“I’m so sorry,” you said suddenly, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. “This is all my fault. You left everything behind because of me. Your life… Ellie… I ruined everything.”

Joel’s brow furrowed in confusion, his hands tightening around you as if to keep you grounded. “Hey, what are you talking about?” he asked, his voice firm but gentle. “This isn’t your fault. I wanted this, I chose this.”

“But—”

“No, listen to me,” Joel interrupted, his tone more insistent now. “I made the choice to leave, to take you with me. I wasn’t going to let you go through this alone. You didn’t drag me into anything. I’m here because I want to be. Because I love you.”

His words hit you like a wave, crashing over the doubts and fears that had been building inside you. Joel’s eyes were filled with a fierce determination, a resolve that left no room for doubt. He wasn’t going to let you carry this burden alone, wasn’t going to let you blame yourself for the choices he had made.

“You don’t have to feel guilty,” Joel continued, his voice softening as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “We’re in this together, okay? I’m right where I want to be. With you.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, soothing the ache in your heart. The guilt that had been suffocating you began to loosen its grip, replaced by a deep sense of relief. Joel had made his choice, just as you had made yours. And together, you would face whatever came next.

As you looked into his eyes, you knew that no matter where the road took you, no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would find a way through it. With Joel by your side, you felt like you could take on the world. And for the first time in what felt like forever, the future didn’t seem so terrifying. It felt like a promise—one that you and Joel would keep, together.

"I love you too, Joel," you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of everything those words held. His gaze softened, and before you could say anything more, Joel leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was tender, a gentle affirmation of the bond you shared. You melted into him, your bodies pressing together as you held each other close in the quiet cocoon of the room.

The kiss deepened, but it wasn’t rushed. It was as if time had slowed, allowing you to savor the moment—the warmth of his mouth, the way his hand cupped the back of your head, drawing you closer. There was something pure in that kiss, something that spoke of more than just desire. It was love, yes, but also relief, gratitude, and an unspoken promise that you would stand by each other, no matter what came next.

As you embraced, the sound of a song drifted up from downstairs, carried on the quiet air of the night. The familiar notes of “Have You Ever Seen the Rain” by Willie and Paula Nelson filled the room, and you couldn’t help but smile as you recognized the voices of Bill and Frank in the distance.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Frank, not this song again,” Bill’s gruff voice grumbled, the sound slightly muffled but still clear.

Frank’s reply was lighthearted, tinged with affection. “Once in a while, Bill, we need something besides Linda Ronstadt. I need something new.”

“But Linda is so good,” Bill protested, the hint of a smile in his tone. “You know that. It was our song.”

You chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against Joel’s chest as you lay wrapped in each other’s arms. “They’re an interesting couple,” you murmured, looking up at Joel with a playful glint in your eye.

Joel’s lips quirked into a small smile as he listened to the banter from downstairs. “Frank’s nice enough,” he said, but you noticed he hadn’t mentioned Bill. There was a slight hesitation in his voice, a subtle tension that you could feel through the way his body stiffened ever so slightly.

You knew that Joel and Bill had a complicated relationship, one marked by an undercurrent of mutual respect mixed with a kind of wariness that neither of them could fully shake. Bill was a man who valued his solitude, fiercely protective of his territory and his way of life. He and Joel shared a similar toughness, a survival instinct honed by years of hardship, but their similarities also made them clash. Bill’s brusque nature, his guarded demeanor—it all rubbed up against Joel’s own rough edges, creating an awkward, sometimes strained dynamic between them.

They weren’t exactly friends in the traditional sense, but they weren’t enemies either. It was more like they understood each other on a level that didn’t require words—a kind of silent agreement to coexist, to respect the other’s boundaries, even if they didn’t always see eye to eye.

“Joel…”

“What?”

“They’re good people, Joel. Frank and Bill. They took us in when they didn’t have to. They gave us a place to stay till we figure it out,"

Joel’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Yeah, they did, I guess Bill's not that bad,” he admitted making you chuckle a little.

There was an unspoken acknowledgment between you—a recognition of the small sanctuary you had found in Bill and Frank’s home, however temporary it might be. And despite the rough edges, despite the unspoken tensions, you knew that Joel was grateful in his own way for the refuge they had provided.

You reached up, cupping his cheek as you pulled him in for another kiss, this one more urgent, more passionate. It was as if the song playing downstairs had ignited something in you—a deep, burning need that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. The kiss grew more intense, and as your lips moved against his, you could feel the unspoken desire that had been building between you for days.

Joel responded in kind, his hands moving to hold you closer, his touch becoming more insistent. There was no hesitation now, no more holding back. It was just the two of you, finally able to be together without fear or guilt. The world outside could wait; this moment was yours.

You guided him to be on the top of you, your bodies entwined as the song played on in the background. The melody seemed to echo the rhythm of your hearts, each beat syncing with the other as you moved together. The room was filled with the soft sounds of your shared breaths, the quiet sighs of pleasure as you lost yourselves in each other.

Joel’s hands roamed over your body, gentle but with a certain urgency, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Every touch sent a shiver down your spine, every kiss ignited a fire within you. It was sweet, yes, but also passionate—like two souls finally finding their way back to each other after being lost for so long.

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake, and you arched into him, craving more of his touch. The heat of his skin pressed against yours, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart, echoing in time with your own. It was a rhythm that spoke of love, of need, of the deep connection that bound you together—one that had weathered storms and now found solace in the quiet moments like this.

Joel’s hands slid down your sides, fingers brushing the delicate fabric of your white nightgown. Slowly, he lifted it over your head, the soft material grazing your skin as it fell away. His gaze never left yours, a silent reverence in the way he looked at you, as if you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, as he undid the last of his clothing, baring himself to you. The weight of his words settled into your heart, grounding you in the moment as he moved closer, his body warm and familiar against yours. When he positioned himself between your thighs, the anticipation hummed between you, a charged electricity that made every nerve in your body come alive.

As Joel entered you, slowly and tenderly, a soft moan escaped your lips. He moved with deliberate care, every thrust measured, as if savoring every second of being with you. His pace was slow, each movement a testament to the depth of his love, the gentleness of his touch weaving a tapestry of passion and tenderness that enveloped you both.

Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, fitting together as though they were made for each other. The world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you in this moment of pure connection. There were no more secrets, no more hiding in the shadows. For the first time, you could be together completely, without fear or shame. It was as if the walls around your hearts had finally crumbled, allowing you to love each other fully, freely.

As you moaned softly, feeling the sweet friction within yours, the intensity of your connection deepened with every passing moment. Joel’s movements were unhurried, each thrust sending waves of pleasure rippling through you, building slowly but steadily. His breath was hot against your ear, his low growls of pleasure resonating through your body, making you shiver with anticipation.

“Joel…” you moan, your voice trembling with a mixture of need and love. His name on your lips felt like a prayer, a plea for this moment to never end, for the world to stay suspended in this perfect stillness where only the two of you existed.

Joel responded with a soft grunt, his hips pressing deeper, finding a rhythm that had you arching into him, your body reacting to his every move. He watched you intently, his eyes filled with a reverence that made your heart ache. In this moment, you were his entire world, and he was yours.

The slow, deliberate pace allowed every sensation to intensify—the way his skin brushed against yours, the way his hands roamed your body as if memorizing every curve, the way his gaze never wavered from yours, grounding you in the here and now. Every touch, every movement was a reminder that you were safe, cherished, and loved.

As Joel continued to move within you, the tension began to build, coiling tighter and tighter with every thrust. The world around you seemed to blur, your senses narrowing to the feel of him, the sound of his breath, the warmth of his skin. You were completely lost in each other, the outside world fading into insignificance.

And then, as if sensing you were on the edge, Joel leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, his lips moving softly against yours. The kiss was filled with all the emotions that words could never fully convey—his love, his desire, his unwavering commitment to you.

With a final, deep thrust, the tension within you snapped, and you came undone in his arms, your body trembling with the force of your release. Joel followed soon after, his own release a shuddering, overwhelming wave of pleasure that left you both breathless.

For a moment, the world stood still. You lay there in each other’s arms, your bodies entwined, hearts beating as one. The outside world, with all its dangers and uncertainties, felt miles away. Here, in this quiet space, there was only love—a love that had weathered every storm, a love that had brought moment of peace and completeness.

As your breathing slowed, you nestled closer to Joel, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, the strong, steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your cheek. He held you tightly, his arms wrapping around you as if he could shield you from the world outside, from all the darkness and danger that still lingered just beyond the walls of this room.

The song playing softly in the background, "Have You Ever Seen the Rain?", blended with the lingering hum of your emotions. The lyrics, the melody, all seemed to echo the storm you had weathered together—the downpours, the relentless winds, and finally, the calm after the storm. It was a moment of serenity that you both craved, a small piece of normalcy in a world that had been anything but.

You shifted slightly to look up at Joel, your hand resting gently on his chest. “I never thought I’d feel this way,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the room.

Joel’s hand moved to cradle your face, his thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek. “Me neither,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “But I’m glad I do. I’m glad it’s with you.”

His words filled you with a warmth that spread through your entire being, a sense of belonging that you hadn’t felt in so long. Here, in his arms, you felt like you had finally found your home, not in a place, but in a person. In Joel.

“I love you, Joel,” you murmured, your voice steady despite the overwhelming emotions coursing through you.

Joel’s lips curved into a soft smile, one that reached his eyes, lighting them up in a way that made your heart swell. “I love you too, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice filled with the same intensity of feeling that you held in your heart.

He pulled you closer, holding you as if he never wanted to let go. And in that embrace, you felt the world fall away, leaving only the two of you, wrapped in a love that was as deep and as vast as the ocean.

As you drifted off to sleep in Joel’s arms, you knew that whatever the future held, you would face it together. No matter the challenges, no matter the obstacles, you had each other. And that was enough. More than enough.

[superherobriefings]

Shock Gibson The Human Dynamo

Creator(s): Peter Jay

Alias(es): Charles Gibson

1st Issue w/Uniform: Speed Comics #12

Year/Month of Publication: 1941/03

pdsh.fandom.com/wiki/Human_Dynamo

[luveline]

could you maybe write struggling single dad!eddie? ily!!! 😘

love you! hope this is okay :D I did girl dad!eddie because ♡ fem!reader

Juggling car keys, a brown paper bag of groceries and a toddler that refuses to be put down today is not easy. And she's not always like this, Roan's usually a sweet (if quiet) girl who makes Eddie's life as easy as she can. A blessing, he thanks God or whoever for her everyday, but lately she's been clingy as climbing ivy.

"Babe," he says, stress seeping into the pet name and making it more chiding than he means, "could you relax?"

She glares at him. She's a mirror.

"You're being so mean to daddy today, you know that?"

She ignores him, small hands in the collar of his last nice work shirt and pulling. He can't stop her from stretching it out, doesn't have a hand free to pull her away and the shitty cruiser he swapped his beloved van for is still locked up tight.

"Baby, stop!" he scolds.

She looks like she might have a tantrum if she could. Roan pulls her hands away but starts to grizzle, a sniffle that turns loud that turns to full blown tears. He can't tell if they're crocodile tears or not. He feels awful anyhow.

Roan brings a hand up to slap his shoulder. Her fingers get caught in the fabric of his collar and she tugs to get free, jabbing herself in the eye with the back of her hand.

Her resulting cry is awful. Real, heart-hurting, Eddie forgets to be mad and starts shushing her gently. He presses his back sweaty with exertion against the cold window of the back seat door and pulls her in as close as he can.

"It's okay, sweetheart," he says softly.

She shrieks and hits the grocery bag. It topples. The groceries go everywhere. An orange rolls into the parking lot.

"Roan," he complains, defeated.

Patience, he thinks to himself desperately. Patience. She doesn't mean to.

He can't afford stuff like this. The time it takes to do simple things like get groceries feels expensive enough — he could be pressing Roan's clothes right now, or swapping out that cracked neck on the black Gibson so he can finally get paid for it, or fuck, he could be smoking a goddamn cigarette.

He sets her down. She screams bloody murder but he doesn't have a choice. He has to chase down the dispersed groceries desperately, cheeks pink with embarrassment.

Being a parent has made him hyper aware of other people's judgmental looks. He can feel eyes now on the top of his head and Eddie knows it's that cruel looking blonde woman from the cold cuts aisle who'd tried to lecture him on processed ham.

He picks his head up, words already rehearsed in his head. Lady, if you don't leave me alone I swear to fuck I'm gonna feed her nothing but TV dinners for the rest of her life. She's gonna be a junk food baby and you'll have no one to blame but yourself.

Only It's not the lady. It's a girl.

You wither under his fierce scowl and offer the two oranges in your hand to him unsurely.

"Sorry," you say, shifting forward a half step. "They rolled my way."

He accepts the oranges without talking, which is rude, so rude, but his heads already decided the order of things before his mouth can catch up. Shove the groceries in the bag. Put the bag on the floor. Pick up his kid. Help her calm down.

He hikes Roan onto his hip, rubs her back, and says, "God, I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else."

You visibly relax. Eddie's surprised you didn't turn tail and run.

"Yeah? Do I have a doppelganger?" you ask. You smile in this way that's totally your own, Eddie's never seen someone grin like that before. Maybe a little shy and the shyness is making you awkward, teeth peeking out, you're pretty.

He's shocked at the thought. She's pretty.

Years of womanising (with varying success) kicks in.

"No, God no. She wasn't nearly as pretty as you are, sweetheart."

Roan seems to realise that she's not the object of his whole affection and pulls on his hair. Eddie let's his head yank to the side with a hiss and then a rueful smile. The world skews. You follow his head movement with your own.

"Is that so? I guess you'd know all about pretty," you say, head dipped to your shoulder.

Eddie gets super excited thinking he's actually managed to pull this one off (a fucking impossibility).

You hold your hand out hesitantly and wave. He realises you had not been talking about him.

"You- Oh, yeah. She's lovely, isn't she?"

You beam. "'Lovely,'" you quote. "That's a nice word." Your attention slides to Roan. She basks in it. "Hey, baby. You're just something else, aren't you? You know! You know how pretty you are, don't go shy on me."

Roan goes smiley. Chubby cheeks full of colour, she grins and pulls her dark curls in front of her face. Like father, like daughter.

"What's her name?" you ask.

"Roan. I'm Eddie."

You introduce yourself, bent just slightly to talk directly to Roan. You offer your hand.

When Roan takes it, you shake her tiny hand gently and then rub your thumb over her fingers. "Nice to meet you, princess."

"Hi," she says slowly.

You give her hand a small squeeze and then take a step back, arms moving behind you. "God, she's a pretty baby. And she looks so much like you."

"Yeah?" he asks warmly.

You realise what you've said with a look like you've been struck. After a second, you blink and laugh self-consciously. "Well. It's true."

He's out of the game. He's miles away from the game. But if he doesn't ask you for coffee that's gotta be self sabotage, right? Eddie's trying to find the words when you take a strange breath.

"Listen, I've seen you around and- I know this is weird. Sorry, but you really are- God. Sorry, but do you wanna get coffee? Sometime?" you ask, clunky and awkward.

Eddie's enamoured. He forgets to answer because he can't believe his luck and you take it for something different, adding, "Or not coffee? What does the little lady like?"

He must smile wide enough to split his lip. "Chocolate, mostly."

"Like cake and stuff?"

"Loves it."

You nibble at the inside of your lip as you pull your bag around to your thigh and search inside for a pen. You pull out a leaflet, a Save The Children Pamphlet they pass around outside of the mall and wince as you tear a corner.

He watches you write down your number on the hood of his car. You do it quick, pass it to him quicker.

"You can just call me, let me know when you're free."

"I'm free when you are," he says like a loser. It's not even remotely true. Eddie's never free, but for you he's gonna make it happen.

"How about Thursday?"

Eddie nods. Roan slips down his side and looks between you both like she's watching a tennis match.

"Yeah, Thursday is perfect."

You smile. Eddie takes it all in, everything, your smile and your hair and your clothes and the way your fingers pull at one another. He can't believe you're the nervous one right now. His heart spins like a top in his chest.

"I'm sorry to ask you out and jet, but there's somewhere I gotta be," you say. You sound genuinely apologetic.

"No, of course-"

"But I'll see you on Thrusday. Outside of, um, Morgan's Desserts?"

"Sure, but-"

"Yeah?" you ask.

"I can bring Roan?" he asks.

Your expression softens. "Please. If you don't I'm gonna stand you up."

He laughs abruptly, a shock of it like a firecracker in his chest.

You move like you might leave but then pick up his grocery bag and pass it back it to him. "Bye, princess," you pause to say, looking melted by his daughter's puppy dog eyes, if he does say so himself.

"Bye," she says sweetly.

You nod at him. He nods back.

"Thursday," he calls at your retreating figure. You know, to make sure.

You shoot him a smile over your shoulder.

Roan turns in his hold to stare at his face.

"What?" he asks her.

"Chocolate?" she questions.

"Heard that, did you?" he mutters.

-

more eddie and roan

[ddejavvu]

god that weird crossover episode with the beyond borders spinoff,,, when hotch is chasing that guy through the crowded markets can you imagine being an extra and having thomas gibson grab your arm to stable himself as he runs past you i'd pass away

sorry i know you weren't requesting this and of course this isn't about thomas it's a hotch blurb but i literally could not resist writing it so here you go lovey you are so right i'd have toppled over <3333

--

You think it's rather rude that the man rushing through the marketplace uses you to stabilize himself as he turns a sharp corner. His arm juts out quickly to push against your shoulder, giving himself your side to lean on, but it means that the bag of fruit you'd been gathering to pay for hits the side of the table as you sway into it, and the paper tears at the sharp intrusion. Your bag splits, and you watch defeatedly as all of the produce you'd gathered tumbles to the dirty ground.

You're nothing but astounded, well aware that the police chase should have you more on edge, but completely bewildered and shock-stricken. All you can do is lift your head to watch the man run off, and he notices the damage he'd caused as he turns to throw a haphazard 'sorry!' over his shoulder at you.

He's still running but he staggers a step, torn between the chase he's engaged in and helping you. The business side of his brain starts working first, and he dashes away with barely a second's hesitation, but you'd seen guilt in his eyes that almost made up for your fallen fruit.

The crowd is keen on dispersing as the chase continues beyond you, but you don't care. They're not coming back, it would be foolish of the criminal they're after to circle back, and you kneel to collect the produce you'd lost in the chaos.

You hear the roar of engines as you try collecting the mangoes you'd dropped, now bruised and grimy. A nearby fruit stand had collapsed, the next on your list to shop at, and it's difficult to tell what's what as the fruit rolls and mingles together.

The shopkeepers congregate to join your cause, but where you're gathering the fruit in the front of your skirt, they're scooping it back into crates that had tipped wayward. You've got shorts beneath your flowy skirt that mean you can use it as an apron instead, and before long you're nearly finished re-shopping through the mess on the ground.

"Here," A deep voice comes from above you, and you jerk your head to the side to find the man that had bumped into you only seconds before. Evidently, the chase was over, but you're not sure the outcome. He's panting, chest heaving hard from running as much as he did, but he's holding out a jacket towards you, one that he's tied into a makeshift satchel.

"I'm sorry," He pants, kneeling beside you on the concrete to help scoop produce into the jacket, "I didn't mean to ruin your bag. I had to catch that man, I'm sorry I couldn't stop to help."

"It's alright," You try to keep sourness out of your voice even if you are handling citrus fruits, begrudging towards the man for nearly knocking you down but grateful that he's stopped by to fix things, "I suppose police chases are always that chaotic.

"Yeah," He breathes, still exhaling heavily as he cracks a smile at you. His hairline is beaded with sweat, and it's really rather distracting, so you try averting your eyes lest your mind wander.

"I'll buy you a new bag," He helps you stand, hauling the fruit from his tied jacket onto the righted table and motioning at another stall across the way, "They sell them, I'll be right back. Color?"

"Oh, I-" You stammer, seizing up on the spot, "Um- anything's fine."

"Alright," He's rushing off to the stall while pulling his wallet out without further hesitation, and you wonder if he always moves this fast.

You ring up the produce you want to buy with the cashier, who's quick on her feet to recover from the shock of the chase. Other vendors aren't as lucky, but you're done with your shopping after this.

"Here," The man comes back, still panting slightly, as he extends a white tote bag made just across the way.

"It matches your skirt," He smiles kindly at you, and okay, you might forgive the guy.

"Thank you," You gush, taking the bag from him and nodding when the woman tells you your total. You focus on the fruit first, scooping it gently into your new bag, and the man takes it as an opportunity to pull out his wallet again.

"Here-" He starts, but you catch him before he can pay for your food.

"It's alright!"

"No, I insist," He succeeds in handing his cash to the woman, who doesn't really look like she cares how she gets paid, just that she does, "I almost tackled you, the least I can do is pay for the fruit I knocked all over the floor."

"Thank you," You grin at him when the transaction is complete, and the stall owner flocks to help another across the way. You're alone now, though still in the middle of the fairly crowded marketplace, and you admire the polo shirt that the man in front of you has stretched over his surprisingly toned chest.

"I'm sorry, again." He smiles bashfully, reaching out to cup the back of your bent arm as he gestures away from the black vans gathered at one end of the marketplace.

"You'll have to leave through there, but you should be careful. Do you need a ride?"

"No, I'm okay." You shake your head, "I rode my bike here, and it's parked over there anyways."

"Alright. Okay, uh- stay safe." He urges, his kind smile fading slightly as someone in black sunglasses barks information at him. He nods, squinting slightly because of the sun, "Goodbye. Enjoy your fruit, and I'm sorry again."

"It's alright," You laugh, finally over your temporary grudge, "Sir?"

"Yes?" His brows raise, and you think for a moment he might be expecting you to ask for a ride anyways.

"I'm going that way," You gesture towards the road you'll take home, and you relish the bashful beam that overtakes his face when he laughs at your words, "If you guys drive through there, try not to hit me again."

[oneshotnewbie]

Joining station 19 and immediately connecting with everyone. You and Andy fall for each other hard and right before you two are going to confess the station gets a bad call where you get badly injured. You need blood so everyone gets tested to see if they are a match. Jack Gibson is and the doctor figures out that you and Jack are twins. Everyone is shocked. Especially Andy. Falling for your ex's long-lost twin sister is crazy. She ends up distancing herself away from the reader who gets hurt and confused. Maya can tell she is hurting herself while doing this. So she tells Andy that if she really cares about the reader then she shouldn't care that her and Jack are twins. Andy goes to the reader and explains herself. Then the two get together. Fluffy and angsty please?

Authors note: Very long story for my standards, and not proofread. I apologize if there are any grammatical errors! ♥

ᕚ---ᕘ

You slowly walked through the open gates of Station 19, your gaze focused, but a friendly smile played on your lips. The fire station, which was full of hectic activity, seemed to pause for a heartbeat at that moment as the eyes of everyone present were focused on you, who walked in with a confident step.

The new members of the team had seen many new faces come and go, but there was something about you that caught everyone's attention. Captain Bishop stepped forward first, offering you her hand with a gentle smile. "Welcome to Station 19, y/l/n. We're glad to have you here."

You shook her hand firmly and nodded happily before pulling away from her and looked around your new workplace. "Thank you, Captain. I'm excited to be a part of this team."

Maya gave you a little tour and led you through the station, introducing you to the other firefighters. The welcome was immediately warm, but when you met Andy Herrera you felt a special connection. Andy, the experienced lieutenant, looked directly at you and for a moment the world seemed to stand still for both of you. "Y/n, right? Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, exactly. And you're Andy, right?" you asked and she nodded at you, taking the friendly route to your new locker. It didn't take long for you to get along with everyone. You showed the team respect for their experience and knowledge of firefighting and impressed your new colleagues with your skills.

Over the next few weeks you became an integral part of the team. During the exercises you showed the full extent of your abilities, but what impressed the others was your dedication and your ability to keep a clear head in stressful situations. Your positive attitude and the way you interacted with those affected by fires infected everyone, and it seemed as if you had been a part of the station for years.

A close bond developed especially between Andy and you. You understood each other on a deeper level than words could express. The looks you exchanged spoke volumes, and it was as if you had found a common language that only existed between you.

In the quieter moments, you often found yourself near the emergency vehicle, deep in conversation. About your past, about your dreams and the challenge of the fire service. But despite the obvious and ever-growing attraction between you, neither dared to speak the words that were hiding in your hearts.

One evening, after a long mission, you sat on the edge of the station and looked out at the city at night. The silence between you was comfortable but also tense while the atmosphere between you was charged. “Y/n, can I ask you something?” She asked into the quiet, catching your eyes as you looked down at her from the city lights, lost in thought. You both tried to understand your own burgeoning feelings and put them into words. "Of course. Ask me anything you want."

Andy struggled with her words, not knowing how she wanted to express her feelings, and just as she was about to say a word and break the silence, she was interrupted by a loud alarm that echoed through the station. Everyone immediately jumped up when the emergency call went out.

"There's a major fire downtown! All hands on deck!" Maya Bishop shouted, the words piercing the air as the station filled with frantic activity. The Latina's confession was suddenly shattered by the reality of fire service. Without another word, you grabbed your gear and ran to the emergency vehicle.

The journey to the fire site passed in hurried silence. The sirens wailed as the images of the burning building grew closer and closer. When the emergency vehicle arrived on the scene, smoke billowed into the air and flames leaped wildly into the darkness. "Y/l/n, Herrera! You are responsible for floors 8-12. Clear the apartments!"

You quickly rushed into the burning building, working hand in hand and coordinating your actions while handing over your stay and condition to the team. The intensive cooperation and trust that had developed between you at the station was now put to the test. But it was precisely in this extreme situation that you found a remarkable synchronicity.

In the middle of the mission, as you tried to save lives and control the fire, Andy and you briefly looked into each other's eyes. At that moment, the flames around you seemed to disappear and time slowed down. It was like your emotions were about to explode in that intense moment. "Andy, there's something I really need to tell you."

"Later, y/n. Let's finish this first." the Latina's words were drowned out by a sudden, loud crash as part of the 10th floor structure collapsed. The floor was flooded with a blinding wave of heat, while screams and the crackling of the ravines merged into a deafening carpet of sound.

You jumped towards Andy to save her from the burning column of rubble that was rushing towards her amidst the chaos. But the heat wave hit you and you were thrown to the ground. Andy saw the scene in horror and picked herself up from the ground before immediately rushing to you. "Y/n! Can you hear me?!"

You could only nod weakly as deep pain pulsed through your body. "Captain, y/n is injured! I need medical attention immediately!" she shouted through the intercom, waiting as other colleagues arrived to fight the fire and rescue you from the rubble.

Your thoughts were heavily clouded by the stabbing pain, but in the midst of the agony and struggle with unconsciousness, you felt Andy holding your hand. "You'll get through this, you hear me? Stay with me!"

While Hughes and Warren took care of you and got you out, the fire was gradually brought under control by Andy, Gibson and Travis. But the emotional flames between Andy and you were brought to a new level by this dramatic incident in which you tried to save her life. The fire in the Latina's heart now burned not only with desire, but also with worry and the desire to be by your side forever.

ᕚ---ᕘ

The bright lights in the hospital waiting room were tense. Your entire team waited with worried faces for news about your health. The quiet hum of the lights and the muffled murmur of other waiting patients filling the room. "What's taking so damn long?!" fumed Andy, who was driven crazy by the long gap in knowledge without any further information about you.

Unbeknownst to them, your situation worsened when you were now lying awake in the examination room and had found out about the need for a blood transfusion when Doctor Meredith Gray determined through all the tests that you urgently needed a blood transfusion.

It was only when Meredith approached the group with a thin smile and wanted to share the news with them that Andy was able to breathe a sigh of relief, but her eyes were still filled with worry. "What's wrong with her? Will she be okay?" Victoria asked immediately, even before the blonde had fully entered the waiting room. "She was lucky in misfortune. A few broken ribs, injuries to her leg, but nothing that she can't overcome. However, she lost a lot of blood and therefore needs a blood transfusion."

The doctor's words echoed through the room and an unpleasant tension settled over those present, but after a brief period of shock, each of the firefighters volunteered to be tested for you.

After a good three quarters of an hour and a thorough examination of the seven samples, the surprising news came that was to give everyone another shocking piece of news that evening. This information would stick with Andy in particular for a long time. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant Herrera, but your blood is not compatible."

The confusion on her face was palpable, as she fervently hoped that she could save your life like you had done for her. Disappointment was reflected in her eyes, the uncertainty about what would happen next hung heavily in the air. "What? That can't be right. I have to be compatible. Test it again!"

"We've already tested it and there's no match. It looks like Jack has the right blood type, though," a brief moment of silence followed as Meredith fiddled with her tablet to double-check. that she recited the correct bullet points that she had discovered. "A genetic hit, even. You can donate immediately."

Shocked looks passed between each team member and Jack as the realization of the family connection sank in and he nodded without hesitation and made himself available. Andy's gaze lingered on him longer than usual, her brow furrowed as she bit her lip and folded her arms under her chest. The doctor's words struck her like a thunderclap, shattering her reality. "Both of you...siblings? That's impossible!"

"It seems so, Andy. Genetic testing seems to have confirmed it. I didn't know myself." Gibson spoke cautiously, the only one knowing that the Latina had had feelings for you for weeks. The revelation left a bitter taste in the air between Andy and Jack. The confusion in her eyes betrayed not only the surprise at the unexpected family connection, but also the fact that Jack Gibson, a former ex of hers, was now identified as your brother. The silence was broken by a heavy sigh as Andy voiced her thoughts. "That can't be right. You and me, we were..."

Jack interrupted immediately, holding his hands to his chest in a calming gesture. "Andy, I didn't know. I swear. But now we're all here to help y/n. We can sort this out later."

You could feel the tension between them both, and the situation suddenly became much more complicated in Andy's eyes than ever before. Andy's thoughts about her feelings for you were overshadowed by the newfound sibling relationship. The feeling of uncertainty spread through her and she didn't know how to deal with this unexpected turn of events.

The dynamics within the team had changed, and the revelation of familial ties not only upset blood relationships, but also brought with it a flood of emotions that were difficult for Andy to handle as Jack was prepared for the blood transfusion and the other firefighters remained in the waiting room, their minds still dominated by the surprising information.

During the transfusion, Andy continued to sit in the waiting room, her eyes wandering between hope and worry. She couldn't ignore the sudden siblinghood and felt that something had fundamentally changed in her life. It set off a chain reaction of emotions that were difficult to process.

After the successful transfusion, Jack entered the waiting room again and the eyes of the others turned to him. "How did it go? Were you able to donate the blood she needed?"

The young man just nodded tiredly and sat down on one of the chairs next to Maya. She gave him a gentle tap on the shoulder, expressing her gratitude for the help and support. "Y/n is stable. The transfusion went well. She will be fine."

A sigh of relief filled the room, but the tension remained. Andy, still torn between emotions and uncertainty, didn't know how to deal with the new reality and you in general. Your hospital stay had revealed not only physical wounds, but also emotional ones that had developed between both of you.

ᕚ---ᕘ

In the days and weeks that followed this revelation, you felt a noticeable change in Andy's behavior towards you as you returned to duty. The usual closeness and familiarity between you seemed to have been broken by an invisible barrier and you didn't quite understand why. The Latina avoided long conversations and your gaze as if she was looking for distance.

You tried to understand the change, but every attempt to talk to Andy about it was met with a cool reserve. Even the small gestures of connection you had previously shared seemed to fade. You could see a look of confusion and uncertainty in Andy's eyes every time she looked at you.

One day you couldn't take it anymore and confronted her, blurting out your emotional distress. "Andy, can you finally fucking talk to me? I don't even know what your freaking problem is. You've been so incredibly distant to me since I was in the hospital and I don't understand why!"

Andy froze when she heard your vulgar pronunciation for the first time and hesitated in her answer for a moment before lowering her gaze. She had to find an excuse. Some excuse that didn't involve her feelings for you. "Everything is so messed up right now! And it has nothing to do with you, but with me."

"That's what they all always say, and basically it has something to do with you. You know what? If you don't want to talk, fine. Then leave it like that and drag our friendship through the mud!" You spat and Andy sighed as she took a step back, even though she just wanted to be close to you. "I'm sorry, y/n, but it's all just too much right now. I need time alone to process some things."

You could see the clear pain in her eyes. Your words left a painful chasm between you that you couldn't ignore. The situation crumbled the delicate structure of your relationship and your attempt to save your connection through another conversation had failed hopelessly.

With a heavy heart, you accepted her answer and disappeared from her surroundings, completely ignoring her from now on. In the time that followed, the distance between you both grew even greater, and the uncertainty put a strain on your work together as partners.

While the Latina tried to process the complexity of the situation, you were left alone with your physical and emotional injuries.

That same evening, after a tiring day on Station 19, where she saw you in every corner of her existence and her heart ached, the brunette looked for some distraction in a nearby bar. The dim lighting and quiet murmurs of the guests created a relaxed atmosphere that helped her sort out her inner turmoil. She sat at the bar all alone, her gaze absently fixated on the glass of whiskey in front of her.

The captain, Maya Bishop, also entered the bar with Carina, and immediately noticed the thoughtful expression on her best friend's face. The bad mood taking over her aura. They ran straight up to her and sat down next to her, the Italian woman already ordering their drinks for the two of them. "Hey, Andy. Are you okay? Where's y/n?"

Andy looked up, a shadow of uncertainty and sadness in her eyes, as the light of the bar began to glitter in her moist eyes. "Hey, Maya. It's... complicated."

The blonde nodded in understanding, sipped the beer she had just received and leaned on the bar before she revealed her observations of the last few days. "I've noticed you've been withdrawing from her lately. Are you still worried about the sibling thing?"

She hesitated for a moment before nodding slightly. Maya gently placing a hand on her upper arm. "Andy, I can see that you're both really upset about what's happening between you right now. But you can't just cut ties with y/n just because Jack is her brother."

She hummed, took a long sip from her glass, and looked thoughtfully at the wall. "I don't know how to deal with it. It's all so complicated.

"I understand that this is all complicated. But don't you think you're hurting yourself by distancing yourself from her? You both have something special and it would be a shame to give that up because of external circumstances."

"But Maya, they're siblings. That's just too much." Andy sighed again, her thoughts seeming to race before her eyes and mine seemed to see a hint of understanding in them. "Yes, it's unusual and complicated. But if you really want to fight for yourself and your connection, you shouldn't let something like this stop you. You love her, that's clearly out of the question. That's what matters ."

Andy's gaze shifted to her best friend as she took in her words. A moment of silence followed before the Latina finally realized the truth. "You're right, Maya. I shouldn't let these circumstances destroy what is between us."

Maya smiled encouragingly and picked up her bottle. A gentle smile also appeared on the brunette's lips and she also pulled out her glass before drinking it down. "I'll get her back. This evening!"

"Exactly, fight for what's important to you. And if you really love her, then don't let something as unimportant as this sister/brother thing destroy that."

The two women sat in silence with Carina for a while, Andy's thoughts swirling around as the bar around them filled with buzz and laughter. In that moment, she began to realize that perhaps it was time to overcome her own doubts and fight for what her heart truly desired.

ᕚ---ᕘ

Night had fallen over the city when Andy stood in front of your apartment building. The night enveloped the streets in an impenetrable darkness as a light rain began to bathe them in a shiny pattern. Maya's words had touched a chord within her, and the urge to find clarity in all the chaos drove her to take the step.

She stormed across the street with hasty steps, the rain lashing against her skin and the cold breeze emphasizing her fear of what she was about to say. Her heart pounded against her chest as she entered the building and climbed the stairs to your apartment. A nervous tingle ran through her limbs as she stood in front of the door. She took a deep breath before tapping her shaking hands vigorously against the wood.

After a moment of listening intently to the footsteps coming from the apartment, you opened the door, surprised to see Andy in this upset state. Your eyes met and the tension between you was palpable. "What are you doing here so late at night?"

"Can I come in?" She asked, completely ignoring your question. You nodded and opened the door wider, your forehead furrowed slightly. She entered the apartment, her soaking wet hair dripping all over the floor while the silence enveloped you like an invisible veil with unsaid words. "Y/n, I.. I can't carry this around any longer. I need to explain something to you."

You sensed the seriousness in her voice and nodded, leading her into your small but cozy apartment. "What's wrong? Did something happen to you on the way here?"

Andy hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and saying the words that were trapped inside her. "I've distanced myself from you and I know it hurt you a lot. I was afraid of the whole sibling thing and it confused me about Jack being your brother and our past. But Maya opened my eyes. I can't just let this ruin everything between us."

You listened intently, shifting your gaze from the floor to watching her. Her expression was a mix of confusion and hope. "I felt it and it hurt me deeply not knowing what was going on. The distance in particular was... intense."

"I'm sorry, I really am. But now I'm here to make it right." There was a moment of silence between you before she locked her gaze back into yours. Andy took a deep breath and walked towards you, placing her hand gently on your cheek. "Y/n, I can't hide this any longer. I love you. No matter what happened between us or who our relatives are, I can't deny how I feel for you."

You looked at her and in that moment the insecurities and fears seemed to fade away. Feeling a pang of surprise in your chest, a warm feeling of joy followed and a smile crossed your face. A glimmer of tears glistened in your eyes as her words hung in the air.

"Andy, I love you too. And no matter what life has in store for us, I want to try and share it with you."

The words barely had time to sink in before your lips met in a passionate kiss. A flood of emotions flowed through you as you finally found each other - the uncertainty gave way to the certainty that your love was stronger than any external influence or challenge. The tensions of the past few weeks melted away.

Your apartment seemed to fill with the intensity of your feelings and a hint of romance and warmth. The world around you melted into a blurry background. In that moment you had found what you were looking for. As the night progressed, you stepped hand in hand into a future together, ready to face any challenge and nurture the love that was stronger than any insecurities. You two had found something special in each other.

[pomodoriart]

finished!! billygibson cuddle pile fuck yeah

lil details:

-billy’s pants are too short for him cause hes so tall. he also embroidered stars n stuff on there. maybe he was thinking of like siblings back home

- salve for hickey’s bum in upper right corner

- hickey’s kind of in a state of shock re:ring and is extremely pleased

- red heart string tangled about their legs b/c they got tripped up in each other and their relationship is… Complex might be a good word

- gibson read to hickey till billy fell asleep. it was very cute

- silverware and rope :)

please do not repost or remove caption. silly tags always appreciated!