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#this stirred up more thoughts than I thought I had in me
stylesispunk · 2 days
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Silent Strain | Part iii
Outbreak! Joel Miller x f!reader
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chapter summary: Joel is afraid of letting you out of his sight and you were afraid of him slipping away.
w.c: 16k> (it was going to be 8k but this happened)
warnings: angst, mentions of panic attack, fluff. no proofreading. Probably some things won't make sense, but I felt pressured and I had to post this chapter.
a/n: hello! Last fic I posted didn't go how I expected but here's another chapter of this series. I hope you like this chapter and PLEASE share your thoughts with me. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
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As the first gloomy light of morning crept through the window, Joel felt like he could finally breathe again. The soft, grey dawn brought with it a sense of calm that the night had cruelly stolen away. He didn’t fear the darkness itself; he'd learned long ago to live within its shadows, but he feared the memories that the darkness brought to him. The loss, the crying, the desperation... and the blood.
The thought of losing another child, and losing you in the process, cracked the rough surface he had been hiding behind for so many years. It was too much; it was too familiar. As much as he tried to stay strong, the fear had gnawed at him, tearing at the fragile walls he had built around his heart.
Your breathing had steadied, though the pain had not fully subsided. He could feel your heartbeat against his chest, uneven but there, steadying his own frantic pulse. He had held you tighter, his own breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps, trying to stay calm for you, for the baby.
After the scare from last night, Joel had held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his face buried in your hair. He whispered softly; words meant to soothe you but also to keep his own panic at bay. "It's okay, darlin'. I'm here. Just breathe. Stay with me…"
The hours had dragged on, and every flicker of discomfort on your face sent a fresh wave of panic through him. He hadn't let himself sleep, afraid that if he closed his eyes, he might wake up to another nightmare.
Now, in the pale morning light, Joel watched you. Your eyes were closed, but your breathing was calm and even, a welcome change from the strained, pained gasps that had filled the room only hours before. He stroked a thumb gently along your arm, his touch feather-light, afraid of disturbing you but needing the contact to ground himself.
Ellie, who had kept a worried vigil nearby, finally stirred awake. She glanced over and saw Joel watching you, the lines of tension still etched into his face.
"Is… is she okay?" Ellie whispered, moving closer, her eyes wide with concern.
Joel nodded slowly, his voice barely a murmur. "Yeah, I think… I don’t know.”
Ellie let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "God, Joel, you looked so scared," she admitted, trying to lighten the mood, though her voice was shaky. "I’ve never seen you like that."
Joel’s lips twitched into a faint, weary smile. "Guess I'm getting soft, huh?"
Ellie leaned against the wall, watching him carefully. "That isn’t bad thing," she muttered, her eyes flicking over to you. “She needs you.”
Joel’s gaze softened, his eyes returning to you, still sleeping peacefully. Then, his gaze went to Ellie’s again.
“Ellie, can you take care of her for a moment?”
Ellie nodded, confused as Joel stood up, walking towards the door without saying a word to her.
Joel's steps were heavy, each one echoing softly in the quiet room. He reached the door and paused for a moment, his hand resting on the rough wood. His shoulders were tense, his head slightly bowed as if wrestling with some invisible weight.
Ellie watched him, frowning. "Joel?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Where are you going?"
He didn't turn around, didn't meet her gaze. "Just… need a minute," he replied, his tone low and strained. "I'll be back soon."
Ellie’s eyes flicked back to you, still resting, and then back to Joel. “She’s gonna wake up and ask for you,” she said, her voice gentle, but firm. "You sure you’re, okay?"
Joel nodded, though his movements were stiff, almost mechanical. "Yeah," he muttered, though he didn’t sound convinced. “I just need some air."
With that, he slipped out the door, the cold morning air rushing in as he opened it. He took a deep breath, feeling the sharp chill hit his lungs, grounding him momentarily. He stepped outside, letting the door close quietly behind him.
He stood there, just outside, his breath visible in the cold air, his mind racing. The panic from the night before still clung to him, like a dark shadow that refused to leave. His hands trembled slightly as he ran them through his hair, trying to calm himself down.
He couldn't shake the image of you in pain, the fear in your eyes, the blood on your hands. It felt like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from, a terrifying reminder of all the things he couldn't control, all the people he couldn't protect.
He closed his eyes, leaning against the wall of the house, his breathing coming in short, uneven bursts. He pressed his hands against his chest, trying to steady his heart, but the memories wouldn't let him rest. Memories of Sarah, of the pain of losing her, of the years spent hardening himself against that same pain.
And now, here he was again, facing the possibility of losing someone he cared about more than he wanted to admit.
"Come on, Joel," she muttered under her breath, killing the silence on Joel’s mind.
“Go back inside” he said.
Ellie jumped slightly at his words, her eyes darting to Joel. She could see the tightness in his shoulders, the tension in his jaw. For a moment, she considered arguing, but something in his voice stopped her. There was a rawness there, a plea she hadn’t heard before.
“Joel…” she started, her voice softer now, more careful.
His eyes flicked to hers, the pain clear, almost palpable. “Ellie, just… go back inside,” he repeated, his tone almost breaking. “Please.”
She hesitated, biting her lip, before nodding “You know it’s not your fault.”
Joel's face tightened at Ellie's words, his jaw clenching as if he was holding back a torrent of emotion. He shook his head, looking away for a moment, his gaze hard and distant, lost in anger and regret.
“I dragged her here,” he muttered, his voice rough and strained. “Knowing her state, knowing what could happen… I should’ve left her behind. Should’ve kept her safe.”
Ellie took a step closer, her own face a mix of frustration and empathy. “But you didn’t,” she argued softly. “Because you knew she’d never forgive you if you did. She wanted to be with you, Joel.”
He looked back at her, his eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing her words. “It doesn’t matter,” he replied, his voice a little louder now, a little more forceful. “I still made the call. I still put her in danger.”
Ellie shook her head. “You’re doing everything you can to protect her. You think she doesn’t know that?” She took another step closer, her tone firmer. “She trusts you, Joel. She believes in you. And… so do I.”
For a moment, Joel’s expression softened, the harsh lines of his face easing slightly. But then he closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath, as if trying to steady himself. “I don’t know if that’s enough, kid,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Ellie sighed, glancing back at the door. “It has to be,” she said. “Because she needs you now more than ever. And you’re the one who’s gonna keep her safe.”
Joel let out a long, shaky breath, his shoulders slumping as if a weight had settled on them. He looked at Ellie, his expression caught between determination and fear. "Yeah… I hope you're right," he murmured, almost to himself.
Ellie reached out, touching his arm gently, a rare moment of softness between them. “Just… don’t beat yourself up too much, alright?” she said, her voice low. “She’s gonna need you to be strong for her. And so am I.”
Joel and Ellie stepped quietly back inside the house, the dim light from the early morning casting long shadows across the walls. Joel's eyes immediately moved to you, lying on the couch, your face still and peaceful in sleep. For a brief moment, he felt a strange calm settle over him, just seeing you safe, resting.
But as if sensing their presence, you began to stir. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, adjusting to the dim light. The ache in your body was still there, a dull throb in your stomach, but the sharp pain had subsided, leaving only a sense of heaviness. You blinked a few times, your gaze settling on Joel and Ellie as they stood by the door, both looking back at you with relief.
“Hey…” you murmured; your voice raspy with sleep. You tried to push yourself up, but Joel was by your side in an instant, his hands gently helping you to sit up. His touch was careful, as if he was afraid you might break.
“Take it easy,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing.
You nodded, wincing slightly as you adjusted yourself. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… I just…” Your voice trailed off, and you swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “I’m okay, really.”
Ellie stepped closer, her eyes wide with concern, but there was a hint of a teasing smile on her lips. “You better be, ‘cause I don’t think I can handle Joel being that freaked out again,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.
You chuckled softly, a weak smile spreading across your face. “Guess I gave you both a bit of a scare, huh?”
Joel’s expression softened, his thumb gently brushing against the back of your hand. “Yeah, you could say that,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
He didn’t meet you gaze, and you know damn well what that meant. You noticed the way his eyes seemed to avoid yours, his gaze fixed on some invisible point in the room. His thumb kept moving over the back of your hand, but there was a tightness in his jaw, a hesitation in his posture that made your heart ache.
“Ellie,” you said softly, turning your head toward her. She paused, halfway through rummaging in the supply bag, her eyes darting between you and Joel. “Could you… give us a minute?”
Ellie hesitated, her gaze lingering on Joel for a moment, and then on you. She seemed to understand that something more needed to be said between the two of you. She nodded slowly, trying to mask her concern with a casual shrug. "Yeah, sure," she muttered, trying to play it cool, even as her curiosity buzzed beneath the surface. “I’ll, uh, go check on the weather or something.”
She grabbed her jacket, slinging it over her shoulders and headed toward the door. “But if I hear any yelling, I’m coming back in,” she added with a small grin, trying to lighten the mood before she slipped out the door, leaving the two of you alone.
The room was suddenly much quieter without Ellie’s presence. The only sounds were the crackling of the dying fire and the distant, muted wind outside. You turned back to Joel, your eyes searching his face. He still wasn’t looking at you, his thumb still moving in that steady rhythm against your hand.
“Joel,” you whispered, trying to draw his gaze back to yours. "Look at me."
He hesitated, his shoulders tense, but finally, he lifted his eyes to meet yours. You could see the conflict there, the worry, the guilt. “What is it?” you asked gently. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
He took a deep breath, his jaw clenching for a moment before he spoke. "I… I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “For all of it. For dragging you out here, for… putting you in danger."
You shook your head, squeezing his hand. “Joel, I made that choice. I knew what I was getting into.”
He shook his head, his eyes dropping again, filled with that familiar guilt. “No… you didn’t. Not really,” he muttered.
You reached up, cupping his cheek with your free hand, forcing him to look at you again. “Joel, stop,” you said firmly, your voice steady. “Nothing is going to happen to us. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”
He closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath. “I’m just… I’m so damn scared,” he confessed, his voice breaking slightly. "Of losing you. Of losing another…"
You felt a lump form in your throat, understanding the weight of his words, the depth of his fear. You leaned closer, pressing your forehead against his, your voice soft.
“Joel, the baby is okay,” you reassured him softly, hoping your words would ease some of the fear you saw in his eyes. "I can feel it."
He shook his head slightly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “How do you know?” he asked, his voice low and rough. There was a tremor in it, a crack that revealed the depth of his concern. “How do you know when we’re out here, and everything’s…” He trailed off, his breath hitching.
You swallowed, trying to find the right words, to offer him some kind of comfort. “I just do,” you whispered, moving closer to him. “I can feel it. Maybe it’s just… a mother’s instinct. But I believe it, Joel. I feel like… this baby is strong.”
Joel's eyes softened at your words, but the fear still lingered there, heavy and ever-present. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to steady himself. His hand moved to rest on your stomach, his palm pressing gently against the swell. He closed his eyes, as if trying to feel what you felt, to believe in what you were saying.
“Strong,” he repeated softly, almost like he was testing the word, trying it out to see if it fit. "I hope so… I really do."
You placed your hand over his, squeezing it lightly. “I know so,” you assured him, your voice unwavering. “I know it’s a little tiny thing but..I feel it.”
He exhaled slowly; his breath warm against your cheek. “I want to believe you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I do."
“Then believe me,” you urged, your thumb brushing against his cheek in a soothing motion. “We’ve made it this far, right? We’re almost there, Joel… we just need to hold on a little longer.”
He nodded, a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah,”
For a moment, the room was silent except for the crackling of the fire and the faint sound of the wind outside. Joel finally met your gaze again, a mix of hope and fear in his eyes. "I’ve lost so much,” he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t… I can’t lose you, too.”
Your heart ached at his words, understanding the depth of his pain. You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, trying to pour all the reassurance you could into that touch. "You won't," you whispered against his mouth. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."
He kissed your back, a little more desperately this time, as if he were afraid you might disappear. You held him close, feeling his body tremble slightly against yours, his breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts.
Ellie pushed the door open, her footsteps echoing in the quiet room. She froze mid-step, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of you and Joel, wrapped in each other's arms, lips just parting from the kiss. Her face scrunched up in mock disgust, and she rolled her eyes dramatically.
“Ugh, seriously?” she groaned, putting her hands on her hips. “If you two wanted to get all mushy, you could’ve at least sent me away or something. Or, I don’t know, given me a warning!”
Joel pulled back, a faint blush creeping up his neck. He coughed, trying to mask the embarrassment with a stern look. “Ellie,” he started, his voice gruff, but she just waved him off.
“No, no, it’s fine," she said with a playful grin, "I mean, I get it… the world’s falling apart, and you’re all about the dramatic declarations of love. But can you keep it PG for the kid in the room?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension of the moment breaking as you met Ellie’s teasing gaze. “Sorry, Ellie,” you chuckled.
She rolled her eyes again but smiled, moving to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. "Yeah, yeah. Just… don't make me an unwilling participant in your cheesy romance, okay?" She paused, glancing between the two of you, her expression softening just a bit. "But… I’m glad you’re both okay.”
Joel shook his head, a small, reluctant smile forming on his lips. "We’re okay, kiddo," he replied softly, his voice still carrying a hint of emotion. "We’re all okay."
Ellie grinned, nudging Joel lightly with her shoulder. “Good,” she muttered, “'Cause I need both of you.”
You and Joel exchanged amused glances, and for a moment, the heaviness in the room seemed to lift, replaced by a sense of warmth and comfort in knowing you were all still together, facing whatever came next.
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Four months had passed since that tense night, and winter had settled in with a cold grip. The once vibrant landscape had transformed into a stark, snowy expanse. You, now seven months pregnant, felt the weight of your journey more than ever, but the quiet strength of Joel and Ellie beside you made the harsh conditions more bearable.
Now seven months pregnant, you felt the weight of it all pressing down on you, not just the baby growing inside, but the miles you had trudged through the wilderness. Your feet ached, your back was sore, and your hands were red and raw from the cold. Yet, the quiet strength of Joel and Ellie beside you made the harsh conditions somehow more bearable. Joel, ever watchful, kept close, his eyes always scanning the horizon for any sign of danger, his presence a constant comfort. Ellie, with her relentless spirit, kept the mood light with her jokes and sarcastic comments, doing her best to distract you from the relentless chill.
The trio of you had walked through miles of frost-covered terrain, the snow crunching beneath your boots. Each step was a reminder of how far you had come and how much further you still had to go. Wyoming was just ahead, a small but significant milestone in your quest for safety and a future.
Joel trudged ahead, his face set in determined lines, but every now and then he would glance back at you, making sure you were okay. He had taken to carrying a small pack with supplies, his concern for you palpable. Ellie, now a bit more grown and experienced, walked close by, occasionally breaking the silence with a joke or a comment, trying to keep your spirits up.
You looked at Joel’s profile, his face partially hid the fear on his bones and despite his gruff exterior, he had become your rock through this tumultuous journey. You had come to rely on his strength and his soft, rare moments of tenderness.
December 1st
“Winter has arrived with a vengeance. The cold is biting, and our progress has slowed. We’re staying in an old barn for the night, huddled together to keep warm. Joel’s been making sure the fire stays lit, while Ellie tries to make the best of our situation.
I can feel the baby kicking more strongly now. It’s a constant reminder of why we’re enduring all of this. Joel’s been more attentive, though still guarded. He’s trying so hard to protect us, and I wish he could see that his presence alone is enough.
The snow makes everything look different. Almost beautiful, in a way that feels wrong given the world we’re living in. We made camp in a small cabin tonight. Joel found some firewood, and Ellie kept herself busy by trying to make soup out of what little we had. She’s worried about me, even though she pretends not to be. I can see it in the way she watches me, like she’s waiting for something to happen. Joel, too, keeps his eyes on me, never letting me stray too far. I think he’s afraid, maybe more than he’ll ever admit.
The baby’s been kicking more. It’s a strange feeling, like little taps from the inside, reminding me that there’s something good in this world. Something worth fighting for.”
The cold wind whipped around you, making it difficult to see very far ahead. Joel motioned for a short break, and you gratefully lowered yourself onto a nearby snow-covered log. Ellie quickly dug out some snacks and hot drinks from her pack, her hands red and numb from the cold.
“Here,” she said, handing you a steaming cup. “This should help warm you up.”
You took the cup gratefully, savoring the warmth as it seeped into your fingers and then your body. “Thanks, Ellie,” you said, smiling. “I don’t know how we’d have made it without you.”
Ellie shrugged; her cheeks flushed from the cold. “Just doing my part,” she said with a wink. “And keeping you guys from going completely crazy.”
Joel joined you, taking a seat beside you and offering you a small piece of dried fruit. “We’re almost there,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Just a bit further, and we’ll be in Wyoming.”
You nodded, taking comfort in his words. “I know,” you replied. “It’s just... sometimes it feels like it’s never going to end.”
Joel’s hand reached out, gently resting on your knee for a few minutes to provide the comfort he knew you needed.
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As you made your way through the snow-covered terrain, the excitement of nearing Wyoming provided a much-needed boost. Joel’s usual calm demeanor had been unwavering through most of the journey, but today, there was an underlying tension in his movements that you and Ellie didn’t immediately notice.
Joel’s breaths were more rapid and shallow, though he tried to mask it behind a determined facade. He kept a firm grip on his pack and occasionally glanced around with a slightly strained look. His face, though mostly hidden by his scarf, betrayed signs of an inner struggle that he wasn’t quite ready to share.
Ellie’s voice broke the silence, sharp and unfiltered as always.
"Are you dying?" she asked, half-joking but with an edge of genuine concern. She was walking beside you, her eyes narrowed at Joel, who hadn’t slowed his pace despite the obvious tension in his movements.
Joel grunted, his response delayed as he adjusted the pack on his shoulder. "No," he said curtly, his breath coming out in visible puffs in the cold air. "I’m fine."
"You don’t look fine," Ellie pressed, glancing at you as if seeking backup. "You’re all... sweaty and weird."
You frowned, watching Joel carefully now. Ellie wasn’t wrong—there was something off about him today. The way his shoulders hunched, his steps just a bit too heavy, like he was pushing through something. He had been quiet, more so than usual, and you could sense the strain behind his eyes whenever he glanced back at you.
"Joel?" you asked, your voice softer than Ellie’s but carrying the same concern. "What’s going on?"
He slowed his steps, finally stopping to catch his breath. His hand went to his side, rubbing it briefly before he straightened up, avoiding eye contact. "It’s nothin’," he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual strength. "Just... pushin' too hard today. We’re close, is all. No time to slow down."
Ellie crossed her arms, her eyes flicking between you and Joel with a skeptical look. "Right," she said, not convinced. "You’re not dying, but you’re also... not dying?"
Joel shot her a look that could’ve silenced most people, but not Ellie. "I said I’m fine."
You stepped closer to him, concern outweighing your hesitation. "Joel, you need to tell us if something’s wrong. You can’t carry this all by yourself."
He exhaled through his nose, the stubbornness etched in his expression softening for just a moment. "I’ll be alright," he said, though now his voice was quieter, less defensive. "Just... need a minute. We’ll keep movin’ after that."
Ellie threw her hands up. "Well, that’s reassuring," she muttered, but you could tell the worry hadn’t left her eyes.
You stayed close to Joel, watching him as he tried to steady his breathing, his hands resting on his knees for support. The tension that had been building inside you all day finally surfaced, the reality of how much you were relying on him pressing down on you. But even now, as he struggled, he was still trying to protect you both.
Joel glanced up at you, catching your gaze, and for a brief second, his walls dropped. There it was—the vulnerability he was so good at hiding, but not today. Not from you.
“I want to rest for a bit” you said, placing your hand over your swollen belly. You needed the rest, but you also wanted to force Joel to slow down a bit.
Joel’s eyes flicked down to your hand resting on your belly, then back up to meet your gaze. His expression softened, the usual stubborn resistance he wore melting away for a moment. He sighed, clearly torn between pushing forward and giving in to the obvious need for a break. You could see the struggle in him—the need to keep going, to get you all to safety—but he couldn’t deny the toll it was taking on both of you.
"Yeah, alright," he muttered, standing upright and scanning the area. "We’ll rest."
Ellie, who had been quietly watching the exchange, gave a slight huff of relief. "Finally," she said, throwing her pack down onto the snow and plopping down next to it. She stretched her legs out in front of her, rubbing her hands together for warmth. "You both needed this."
You nodded, grateful for the pause, though your focus remained on Joel. He had been pushing himself too hard, and the weight of that knowledge gnawed at you. It wasn’t just about the miles or the cold—it was the responsibility, the fear of what would happen if he couldn’t protect you both. You were carrying a life inside of you, and while you knew Joel would never admit it, that added an extra layer of pressure on him.
Joel knelt down beside you, his eyes still scanning the landscape as though danger could appear at any moment. "We won’t stay long," he said, his voice low. "Just enough time to catch our breath."
But it wasn’t true.
As night wore in, Joel had begun gathering wood for a fire, his movements stiff from the weight he carried, not just the physical strain but the burden of keeping you all safe. You watched him silently, your breath visible in the cold night air, as he crouched near a small clearing, arranging the branches and kindling with expert precision. The flicker of the firelight cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw.
Ellie sat nearby, uncharacteristically quiet, watching Joel with a mixture of curiosity and concern. She hugged her knees to her chest, her usual stream of sarcastic comments absent for now. The cold seemed to have silenced her usual banter, or maybe she was just tired, like the rest of you.
Joel caught your gaze from across the fire, his eyes locking onto yours for just a moment longer than usual. He was tired—so tired. But he wouldn’t say it. He wouldn’t admit that he needed to rest just as much as the rest of you, if not more. His protectiveness ran so deep, it was like a force of nature, driving him even when his body begged for relief.
"You should sleep," he muttered, breaking the silence, his voice rough but soft. "I’ll keep watch."
"You need to rest too, Joel," you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper over the crackling fire. "You can’t keep pushing yourself like this."
He didn’t respond right away, his eyes flickering to the flames as if avoiding the truth of what you were saying. Ellie, sensing the tension, chimed in from her spot by the fire.
"Yeah, seriously, man. You’ve been on ‘protector mode’ for hours now. You’re not a machine, you know."
Joel grunted, his usual response when he didn’t want to argue but also didn’t want to agree. He poked at the fire with a stick, the sparks floating up into the dark sky. "I’m fine," he said again, the same phrase he’d been using all day, but it sounded weaker now. Less convincing.
You leaned back against the cave wall, watching him through the flickering light. He was still trying to protect you, still carrying the weight of all your lives on his shoulders. But you could see it wearing on him, the exhaustion, the fear he wouldn’t admit to, the responsibility that felt crushing.
"Joel," you said quietly, "we’re not going to make it if you don’t take care of yourself too.
His eyes snapped to yours again, something unreadable passing through them. For a moment, you thought he might argue, might tell you once again that he was fine. But then he sighed, the sound heavy with everything he wasn’t saying.
"I’ll rest when you two are safe," he said, his voice rough and tired, like he was trying to hold back the weight of the world. "I promise."
Ellie threw a stick into the fire, watching it crackle with an unimpressed look. "Great. So, we’re just supposed to wait until you collapse?"
Joel shot her a look, but it lacked its usual sharpness. You could see that even he was starting to acknowledge the truth.
And just when he was about to say something, you moved uncomfortable. 
Before Joel could respond to Ellie’s sharp comment, you shifted in your spot, a small grimace passing over your face as the baby kicked again. This time, it was stronger, more insistent, and the discomfort rippled through you unexpectedly. You instinctively placed a hand over your belly, your breath catching as the sensation overwhelmed you.
Both Joel and Ellie immediately noticed the change in your posture. Joel's eyes widened, all traces of exhaustion vanishing in an instant as he leaned closer, his expression full of concern.
“What is it?” His voice was tight, his protective instincts kicking in instantly. “Are you alright?”
You nodded, though the tension in your face said otherwise. “I’m fine… it’s just… the baby’s kicking. It’s strong.”
Ellie scooted over, her eyes wide with curiosity and a mix of awe. “Whoa, really?” she asked, her usual snark replaced by genuine interest. “Can I feel?”
You smiled, despite the ache, and gestured for Ellie to come closer. She tentatively reached out, her small hand resting on your belly. A few moments passed, and then the baby kicked again, more pronounced this time. Ellie’s face lit up, her eyes going wide with amazement.
“That’s wild,” she breathed. “It’s like… a real person in there, huh?”
Joel remained still, his expression a mixture of hesitation and uncertainty. His eyes flickered from your face to your belly, where Ellie’s hand still rested, her excitement palpable. But Joel… his gaze was distant, conflicted, as though something heavy was weighing on his mind.
You watched him for a moment, noticing the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched like he was fighting something deep within. He had been so protective of you and the baby, yet now, there was this hesitation that hadn’t been there before. Like the reality of it all was finally sinking in, and it scared him in a way he hadn’t expected.
Your heart softened at the sight of him—this man who had carried so much weight on his shoulders, trying to keep all of you safe. And now, with the baby growing inside you, it seemed like the responsibility was becoming even more overwhelming for him.
Without saying a word, you reached for Joel’s hand, gently pulling it toward your belly. He resisted at first, his eyes meeting yours with an uncertain look. But you smiled, reassuring him, and after a beat, he let you guide his hand to rest over where the baby had just kicked.
For a moment, the world seemed to stop. His hand, warm and rough, pressed against your belly, and then the baby kicked again—strong and insistent, like it was reminding him of its presence. Joel’s breath hitched, and his eyes widened in surprise. You could see the emotions flashing across his face—fear, wonder, maybe even hope—but he didn’t pull away.
He swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. “That’s… that’s the baby,” he said, his tone filled with awe, like he couldn’t quite believe it was real.
You nodded, your hand still resting on top of his, offering comfort. “Yeah, Joel. That’s our baby.”
For a moment, Joel just stared at your belly, his hand still pressed against you. Then, slowly, his walls started to crumble. His shoulders slumped, and he let out a shaky breath, the tension that had been building inside him for days finally releasing.
As you watched Ellie marvel at the sensation of the baby kicking, you couldn’t help but notice Joel’s face. His eyes, though focused on your belly, were distant, clouded with thoughts you knew all too well. His silence spoke louder than any words could, and you could see the weight of it pressing down on him, the same doubts and fears he always tried to hide. But this time, there was no hiding.
Without thinking, you gently placed your hand over Ellie’s, signaling for her to stop. "Hey, El… let’s give the baby a little break," you said, your voice soft but firm.
Ellie looked up at you, confused for a second, before pulling her hand back and sitting up straight. She shrugged nonchalantly, though her eyes lingered on your belly, clearly still amazed. “Yeah, sure. That was pretty cool though,” she muttered, leaning back and poking the fire with another stick.
But your attention wasn’t on Ellie anymore. It was on Joel. His hand was still resting on your belly, and he hadn’t moved. You could see the tension in his face, the way he was trying to hold it together for both of you. He needed to rest, to let himself break for just a moment, but you knew how hard that was for him. How much he felt like everything was on his shoulders.
"Joel," you said quietly, almost more gently than you intended. His name felt different on your tongue, like it wasn’t really you speaking.
He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still locked on your belly. You took his hand and slowly lifted it away, placing it in his lap. He blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, and finally looked at you. The weariness in his face was undeniable now, and you could see the cracks in the facade he always tried so hard to keep in place.
“You need to rest,” you said, your voice soft but firm, with an edge that wasn’t quite your usual tone. It was more insistent, more like a command than a request. You weren’t just asking him to take a break—you were telling him.
Joel’s brows furrowed, his lips parting slightly as if to protest, but you cut him off before he could speak.
“I mean it,” you added, surprising even yourself with the intensity of your words. “You’re not going to help anyone if you collapse, Joel. We can’t keep going like this.”
His mouth closed, his eyes searching your face as if trying to figure out what to say, how to argue with you without pushing too hard. But he couldn’t. Not this time. Not with the way you were looking at him, with that mix of worry and determination that left no room for debate.
Ellie, sensing the shift in tone, stayed quiet, glancing between the two of you. For once, she didn’t throw in a sarcastic comment. She just waited, watching the fire crackle and listening to the tension settle around you.
Joel let out a long breath, his shoulders sagging as the fight drained out of him. He nodded, though it seemed reluctant, like he still couldn’t fully let go of the idea that he had to be the one holding it all together.
“Alright,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “Just for a bit.”
You exhaled, relieved, but you still held his gaze, making sure he understood. “It’s not just for us, Joel. It’s for you too. You need this.”
He nodded again, and this time, it seemed a little more genuine. “Yeah… I know,” he whispered, his voice raw with exhaustion.
Ellie glanced up, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Finally,” she muttered under her breath, though there was no bite in her words this time.
As Joel shifted to find a more comfortable position, he laid his head against your lap, his face pressing gently against your belly. The closeness of him, the warmth of his body leaning into yours, made something inside you tighten—an emotion you couldn’t quite name but one you understood all too well. His breaths slowed as the exhaustion finally caught up to him, his body surrendering to the rest he so desperately needed.
Your hand moved on its own, fingers threading through his hair, then brushing down to caress the rough stubble on his face. The small gesture felt both intimate and protective, like you were guarding him for once, in the only way you could. His face softened in his sleep, the tension that had etched itself into his features over the last few days easing away.
Ellie, watching the scene unfold, stifled a quiet chuckle. "Well, that’s a sight," she whispered, shaking her head with a faint smile. “Didn’t think I’d ever see Joel like this.”
You gave her a soft, knowing smile, your hand never leaving Joel’s face. “Yeah, me neither,” you whispered back. The fire crackled between you, casting soft shadows on the cave walls. For the first time in what felt like forever, it was you and Ellie staying awake, the weight of the night’s silence shared between the two of you instead of Joel.
Ellie stretched out her legs, staring into the flames. “So... how’s it feel?” she asked, her voice low as if she didn’t want to disturb Joel. “Y’know, the baby. It’s kinda crazy to think that in the middle of all this... you’re growing a person.”
You let out a quiet laugh, glancing down at Joel’s sleeping form, then at your belly. “Yeah... it’s crazy,” you admitted, your voice soft but filled with a quiet wonder. “But it feels... right, somehow. Like maybe this is the one good thing left in the world.”
Ellie nodded thoughtfully; her gaze still locked on the fire. “Guess we all need something good to fight for.”
Silence settled over you both, the crackling of the fire the only sound as the night stretched on. The cave was cold, but there was a warmth in this moment, a quiet bond growing between you and Ellie as Joel slept soundly against you.
For the first time in a long time, it felt like you had a moment to breathe and be still. And in that stillness, with Joel safe and Ellie by your side, you allowed yourself to hope, just for a little while, that maybe everything would be okay.
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December 10th
We made it to Jackson today. It’s hard to believe after everything, but we’re finally here. We’re safe… but something doesn’t feel right.
Tommy was so happy to see us. To see Joel. I saw it in his eyes, the relief of having his brother back. And when he looked at my belly, he was surprised, of course, but happy. Even Maria, his wife is pregnant too. She seemed genuinely excited for us, for what this means. But Joel... Joel didn’t react the way I thought he would.
I’ve seen him handle danger, grief, and loss; nothing seemed to break him. But today, when Tommy told the news when Maria shared her news, I could see something change in Joel. He didn’t smile, didn’t share in the moment like I hoped he would. Instead, he shut down. And it hurts. It hurts to think that maybe he’s not ready for this, for us. Maybe he’s scared, maybe it’s just too much. I don’t know, but it’s like I’m carrying this alone.
I’m scared too. But I want this baby. I want us to be a family. And I thought… I thought Joel did too.
He’s with Tommy now, catching up after a long time or at least pretending to. I can feel something shifted, the distance between us growing, even though we’re finally somewhere safe. What if Jackson doesn’t fix this? What if the problem isn’t out there, but here between us?
You set the pen down and closed the journal, feeling the weight of the words settling into your heart. You glanced over at the new clothes Maria had left for you in the bed.
As you dressed in the clean, comfortable clothes Maria had left, the familiar weight of worry crept back in. The thoughts of the QZ and everything you’d been through tugged at the edges of your mind, but you pushed them aside, determined to move forward and focus on this new chapter in Jackson. This was supposed to be a fresh start. You were determined to make it feel that way.
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The cold air outside hit you as you stepped out of the house, but it was fresh, invigorating. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself and began walking through the quiet streets of Jackson, hoping that a bit of solitude would clear your head. But as you passed by one of the larger buildings in the town, you heard voices, low but familiar.
Joel and Tommy were inside.
You hesitated by the window, not meaning to eavesdrop, but you couldn’t help yourself. The tension in Joel had been building all day, and Tommy’s words floated out into the cold air.
“I thought you’d be happy for me, Joel,” Tommy said, his voice carrying a mix of frustration and concern. “I’m going to be a father. Can you believe that? I thought—hell, I thought you’d understand more than anyone.”
There was a long pause before Joel responded, and you could practically feel the weight of what was about to come.
“I don’t know if I want to be a father again,” Joel said, his voice low, almost too quiet to hear. It wasn’t a confession so much as an admission, like it was something he hadn’t even allowed himself to think about until now. “Tommy… it’s different this time.”
“You’ve got someone, Joel. She’s—she’s carrying your kid. That’s not something you just walk away from,” Tommy replied, clearly trying to keep his patience. “You don’t get to be scared and check out now. That’s not you. At least, that’s not the brother I know.”
“I know that,” Joel said, but there was a tremor in his voice that betrayed him. “But I’ve been through this before. And it didn’t end well. What if I can’t do it again? What if I can’t protect them?”
Tommy’s voice softened. “You’re not the same man you were back then. And you’ve got people now. You’re not alone in this, Joel. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”
Another silence followed, and you found yourself holding your breath, waiting for Joel to say something—anything—that would give you an idea of what he was feeling. But when he spoke again, his voice was strained, full of conflict.
“I want to be there for them. I do. But I don’t know how to be a father anymore. After Sarah... it feels like too much.”
Hearing him say her name, his late daughter, hit you like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t heard Joel talk about Sarah much, but you knew how deeply her loss had affected him. The silence that followed was thick with emotion, as if Tommy was waiting for his brother to find the words he was searching for.
“Then learn, Joel,” Tommy finally said, his tone soft but firm. “You can still be a father. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be you trying.”
You could hear the clink of glasses as Tommy poured them both a drink. Joel didn’t respond right away, and you took that as your cue to move away from the window, giving them the space they needed.
As you walked away from the window, your thoughts swirling with everything you’d just overheard, you almost didn’t notice Maria approaching from down the street. Her footsteps were quiet on the dirt path, and by the time you spotted her, she was already close enough to call your name.
“Hey,” Maria greeted softly, her eyes warm but cautious. She seemed to sense the heaviness on your shoulders. “I was just coming by to check on you. How’re you settling in?”
You managed a small smile, though the weight of what you’d overheard lingered in your chest. “It’s... good. It’s a lot to take in, but it’s good here.”
Maria studied your face for a moment, as if she could see the mix of emotions brewing beneath the surface. She gave a small nod, choosing not to press. Instead, she shifted the conversation to something else. “I wanted to let you know, we’ve got an ultrasound machine here in town. It’s old, but it works. If you want, we could take a look at the baby, make sure everything’s okay.”
Her offer took you by surprise, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. The thought of seeing the baby—of actually hearing its heartbeat, seeing it move—was both exciting and terrifying. You hadn’t had the chance for anything like this since leaving the QZ, and the opportunity stirred a mixture of emotions you hadn’t quite prepared for.
“I… I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down at your belly.
Maria smiled gently, her understanding clear. “I get it. It can be overwhelming, especially with everything you’ve been through. But maybe it’ll help. You were out there for so long, it wouldn’t be bad give it a check.
You hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Yeah, maybe. I think I’d like that.”
“Good,” Maria said, her smile growing. “Okay, let’s go”
“What now?” you asked, surprised and afraid, there was a strange feeling on your heart at the thought of seeing your baby for the first time.
Maria chuckled softly, sensing your hesitation. “No time like the present,” she said, her voice calm and reassuring. “I know it’s a lot, but you’ve been through worse. This is something good, something for you. And for the baby.”
You felt a flutter of nerves as the reality of it hit you—the idea of seeing the baby, confirming its presence in a way that was more than just kicks and feelings. It was a lot to take in, and your heart raced at the thought.
“But... what if something’s wrong?” you blurted out, your voice quieter than you intended. It was a fear you hadn’t allowed yourself to voice until now, but it was there, gnawing at the back of your mind.
Maria’s expression softened even more. “That’s exactly why we check. If something’s wrong, we’ll know, and we’ll take care of it. But listen, you’ve come this far. You’re strong, and so is your baby.” She placed a gentle hand on your arm, grounding you. “You’re not alone anymore, okay?”
Her words gave you a sense of comfort you hadn’t realized you needed. You took a deep breath and nodded, more firmly this time. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
Maria smiled again, “Do you want to find Joel first?” she asked
But you thought about his words, and said no.
You shook your head, the memory of Joel's hesitant confession weighing on your mind. "No," you said quietly, but with conviction. "Not right now."
Maria studied your face for a moment, her expression thoughtful but understanding. She didn’t push, simply nodded. "Alright," she said gently. "This is your moment, then. Just you and the baby."
You appreciated her respect for your choice. As much as you wanted Joel to be there, to share this experience with you, part of you knew he wasn’t ready. He needed time to sort through his own fears, and you needed this moment to yourself, to connect with the life growing inside you without the burden of anyone else's emotions.
“Let’s go,” you said, your voice firmer now, a strange mix of nerves and excitement bubbling up inside you.
Maria led the way back toward the clinic, with Ellie joining you both, the air cool and crisp as you walked through the quiet streets of Jackson. Inside, the warmth of the room wrapped around you, soothing some of your tension. As you lay back on the table, ready to see your baby for the first time, you felt a flicker of hope, a hope that despite everything, you and this little life inside you could make it.
The door creaked open, and the doctor stepped in. He was tall, with tousled brown hair and kind eyes that immediately locked onto yours. There was a brief pause as he stood in the doorway, his expression shifting from professionalism to something softer, almost as if he were momentarily caught off guard.
"Hi, I’m Dr. Paul..." he trailed off, his gaze lingering on you just a second too long before he quickly composed himself, stepping further into the room. "Paul Mesner," he added, clearing his throat, his tone now more formal, though there was a warmth in it that you couldn’t quite place.
You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, unsure of the sudden tension that filled the small room. It wasn’t overwhelming, but you could feel something shift in the air, as though Paul had felt something the moment he laid eyes on you.
Maria, standing by your side, glanced between the two of you, raising an eyebrow but choosing not to comment.
As you lay back on the examination table, the soft hum of the ultrasound machine filled the room. Maria stood nearby, and Ellie sat on a chair in the corner, her legs bouncing restlessly. Paul prepared the equipment, his movements efficient but gentle.
Ellie glanced around nervously, trying to act cool, but you could see the curiosity and excitement in her eyes. “So… this is where we get to see the little peanut?” she asked, her voice trying to mask her eagerness.
You smiled at her, feeling a sense of comfort that she was here. “Yeah, Ellie. This is where we’ll see the baby.”
When Paul applied the gel to your belly, Ellie’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t say anything, her attention fully focused on the screen. As the image flickered to life, the small form of the baby appeared, its heartbeat strong and steady. The room seemed to hold its breath.
He guided you through the process, explaining each step, though his voice was gentle, almost reverent. As the cold gel touched your skin and the machine came to life, Paul’s eyes never strayed far from yours. When he finally looked at the screen, the image of your baby appeared, and so it’s heart beating that filled the silence of the room.
“There it is,” Paul said softly, the awe clear in his voice. He glanced at you with that same warmth, but your focus was entirely on the screen. But when he looked at you again, there was something undeniably personal in his eyes, like you were the only person in the room.
Ellie leaned forward; her face lit up with wonder. “Holy shit… that’s… that’s the baby?”
You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away from the tiny form. “Yeah, that’s the baby.”
Ellie’s gaze flickered from the screen to you, then back again. “That’s… insane. It’s real,” she whispered, her usual bravado melting away in the face of something she couldn’t joke about.
Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at the tiny image on the screen, tears welling in your eyes.
As you stared at the tiny, flickering heartbeat on the screen, a rush of emotions overwhelmed you. Tears blurred your vision, but you couldn’t look away from the image. It was real—your baby, alive and growing inside of you. The room was quiet, except for the steady thrum of the baby’s heartbeat echoing in the air, a soft, rhythmic reminder that you were carrying a new life.
“Ellie,” you whispered, looking at her, “you’re going to be part of this too. You’re family.”
Ellie blinked, clearly moved by your words, though she quickly masked it with a grin. “Thank you” she said, smiling down at you.
Paul’s gentle voice brought you back, and when you glanced up at him, he was still looking at you, his eyes filled with something more than just professional care. It was warmth, empathy... maybe something else.
"You’re doing really well," he said again, his voice barely above a whisper, as though he didn’t want to break the delicate atmosphere of the moment.
You smiled weakly, feeling the tears spill over, but you quickly wiped them away. "I wasn’t sure what to expect," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "But hearing the heartbeat... it’s incredible."
Paul nodded, his gaze still steady on you, his expression soft. "It’s a moment that changes everything," he said, his voice full of sincerity. "You’ll remember this for the rest of your life."
His words settled over you like a blanket of reassurance, and for the first time since you had arrived in Jackson, you felt a small sense of peace. There was still so much uncertainty ahead, but in this moment, everything felt possible.
Maria, who had been standing quietly off to the side, finally broke the silence. "It’s beautiful, isn’t it?" she said, her voice filled with genuine warmth. She walked over to you and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You’ve been through so much, but you’re going to be okay here."
You nodded, grateful for the support. But your thoughts drifted back to Joel, to the conversation you had overheard between him and Tommy. You couldn’t help but wonder how he would react when he saw this—when he heard the heartbeat and realized what was truly at stake.
But for now, you allowed yourself to just be in the moment, surrounded by the quiet reassurance of Maria’s words and Paul’s steady presence.
"Thank you," you whispered, meeting Paul’s eyes again.
He smiled, the corners of his mouth tugging upward just slightly. "Anytime," he said softly, and for a moment, it felt like he wasn’t just talking about the ultrasound.
As you, Ellie and Maria gathered your things and prepared to leave the small room, you felt Paul’s eyes lingering on you, even as you reached for the door. His gaze was soft, but intense, as if he couldn’t tear himself away. It left a strange flutter in your chest, a mix of emotions you weren’t ready to unpack.
“Thanks, Paul” you said, honestly, smiling at him.
Maria, standing by your side, must have noticed too. When you touched the door handle, ready to step out, she placed a gentle hand on your arm. “Wait for me outside,” she said, her voice calm but firm.
You hesitated, glancing between her and Paul, but then nodded, stepping out into the cool air of the hallway. As the door clicked shut behind you, a strange tension filled the room you had just left.
Inside, Maria turned to Paul, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. His gaze had been a little too fixated on you, and Maria’s protective instincts kicked in immediately.
"Paul," she began, her voice quiet but filled with a clear warning. "Don’t ever think about it."
Paul blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Maria took a step closer, her expression hardening. "I saw the way you were looking at her. But you need to understand something—she’s not here alone. The baby’s father is here in Jackson."
Paul’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, though he quickly tried to mask it. "I wasn’t—" he started, but Maria cut him off.
"Tommy’s brother," she said, her voice low and steady. "That’s the father. And trust me, you don’t want to get involved in that kind of situation."
Paul looked taken aback, the realization sinking in. He glanced down, his expression shifting as the weight of her words hit him. "I didn’t mean any disrespect, Maria," he said quietly, his tone more subdued now. "I just—"
"I know you didn’t," she replied, softening just a bit. "But I’m telling you now, for your own sake. Stay professional. Keep it that way."
Paul nodded, the intensity in his gaze dimming, replaced by something more resigned. "Understood," he muttered, his voice low.
Maria gave him a long, measured look before turning to leave. As she opened the door, she glanced back one last time, as if to reinforce her message. Then, without another word, she stepped outside to join you.
You and Ellie were waiting just outside, leaning against the wall, lost in thought. When Maria emerged, she gave you a small, reassuring smile.
"Ready to head back?" she asked, her tone light, as if the conversation inside had never happened.
You nodded, pushing yourself off the wall.
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The makeshift theater was packed with people from the community, the flickering light from the old projector casting shadows on the walls. It felt surreal, sitting there with everyone, watching a movie like things were normal. For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to sink into that illusion—into the laughter, the shared smiles, the warmth of the crowd around you.
But then you saw Joel, after missing him for the whole day.
He was sitting a few rows ahead, his posture tense, eyes focused on the screen but not really watching. You’d been keeping an eye on him ever since you got there, sensing the turmoil still brewing beneath the surface. As the movie played on, Joel stood quietly and slipped out of the room, unnoticed by most. Except for you.
Something stirred in your chest, a familiar pull that you couldn’t ignore. You glanced around, checking if anyone else noticed, but everyone was still absorbed in the film. Quietly, you stood and followed him out, slipping through the door into the cold night air.
The streets of Jackson were quiet, the sound of the movie muffled behind you as you walked. You could see Joel ahead, his figure silhouetted against the dim streetlights. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his steps slow, like he wasn’t sure where he was going, just that he needed to get away.
“Joel,” you called softly, your voice breaking the silence.
He stopped but didn’t turn around immediately. You quickened your pace, coming up beside him. When you reached him, he finally looked at you, his expression a mix of exhaustion and something deeper—something you couldn’t quite place.
"You okay?" you asked gently, though you already knew the answer.
Joel let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping as if the weight he’d been carrying all night had become too much. "Just needed some air," he muttered, his voice rough, but not unkind.
You fell into step beside him, walking in silence for a while, letting the quiet between you settle. You knew Joel wasn’t one to open up easily, and you didn’t want to push him. But you couldn’t just leave him to his thoughts, not when you knew he was struggling.
"Talk to me, Joel," you said softly. "What’s going on?"
He was silent for a moment, his jaw tightening as he tried to find the right words. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know if I can do this."
Your heart tightened at his words. "Do what?"
"All of it," he said, his voice strained. "Being here... with you, the baby. It feels like I’m tryin’ to fit into somethin’ I don’t deserve. I don’t know how to be this person anymore."
You stopped walking, turning to face him, the moonlight casting shadows across his face. "Joel, you don’t have to have it all figured out. None of us do."
He shook his head, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I want to be there for you, for the baby, but I don’t know if I can protect you. I’m scared I’ll fail again."
The mention of his past failures cut deep, and you could see the ghosts of his memories haunting him. Sarah. The QZ. Every person he couldn’t save.
"You won’t fail," you said firmly, stepping closer, placing a hand on his arm. “I saw the baby today” you said with a tiny smile appearing.
His eyes flickered up to meet yours, a hint of surprise breaking through the heaviness that surrounded him. "What do you mean, you saw the baby?" he asked, the tension in his voice softening just a fraction.
You took a breath, feeling warmth spread through you at the memory. "Maria took me for an ultrasound. It was… incredible. I felt the heartbeat, Joel. It’s real. There’s a little life in there."
A mixture of emotions crossed his face, curiosity, wonder, and a flicker of fear. "And? What was it like?"
You smiled wider now, unable to contain the joy bubbling within you. "It was amazing. The little form on the screen, just... there. It made everything feel more possible, like maybe we really could do this."
For a moment, Joel’s expression softened, and you could see the flicker of hope behind his eyes. "That’s… good," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, almost as if he was afraid to believe it.
"It is," you reassured him, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between you. "And you’re going to be a part of that, Joel. You’re not just the protector; you’ll be a father. And I know it’s scary, but it’s also something to live for."
He looked down, his brow furrowing as he processed your words. "You really think so?"
"I know so," you said, reaching up to cup his face again, letting your thumb brush gently across his cheek. "You’re already so protective of us, and that matters more than you realize. You’ll figure it out as we go along."
As you stood there, the world around you faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in that intimate moment. Something in Joel shifted, the walls he had built around his heart starting to crumble. You could see the conflict within him, fear battling against a yearning to embrace this new reality.
With a gentle tug on his shirt, you pulled him closer, your heart racing in anticipation. "Trust me," you whispered, your eyes locking onto his.
And then, without overthinking it, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his. The kiss was tentative at first, a mingling of uncertainty and hope. But as he responded, deepening the kiss, you felt a wave of warmth wash over you, as if the two of you were forging a new bond amidst the chaos.
His hands found your waist, holding you close, and for those brief moments, it felt like everything else faded away, your fears, the weight of the past, the uncertain future. It was just you and him, sharing something genuine and profound.
When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you breathing heavily, the world outside momentarily forgotten. The flicker of fear in his eyes had shifted to something softer, more determined.
"You really mean it," he said, his voice rough but filled with newfound conviction.
"I do," you replied, smiling up at him. "We’re in this together, Joel. No matter what."
He nodded, a faint smile breaking through the weight he had been carrying.
As the warmth of the moment lingered, Joel’s hands moved gently to your belly, resting there as if he were trying to connect with the little life growing inside you. His expression softened, and a protective instinct shone in his eyes.
“Get some rest,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “You’ve been through a lot today. We both have.”
You nodded, appreciating the concern in his tone. “I will. But I want you to come back soon, okay?”
A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I will. Just need a minute to clear my head.”
With a lingering touch, he pulled his hands away, and you felt a strange mix of warmth and longing as he stepped back. “I’ll see you in a bit,” he promised, his gaze still fixed on you, as if he were memorizing every detail.
You turned, feeling lighter, ready to head back inside and allow yourself the rest you needed. As you walked away, you glanced over your shoulder one last time, catching his eye. The connection between you remained palpable, and you knew that this was just the beginning of something profound.
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As you stepped back into the house, the warmth hit you immediately, chasing away the cool night air. Ellie was sprawled on the couch, flipping through a book she'd found earlier, her legs crossed as she absentmindedly skimmed the pages.
She looked up as you entered, her face softening into a lopsided grin. "You okay?" she asked, her tone casual, but you could hear the concern behind it.
You nodded, sitting down beside her. "Yeah. Just needed to talk with Joel for a bit."
Ellie studied your face, her eyes sharp. "And? Everything good?"
You smiled gently, trying to reassure her. "It will be. We’re figuring things out, one step at a time." You hesitated for a moment before continuing, "You know, we could be a family here. You, me, Joel… and the baby."
Ellie blinked, her usual tough exterior cracking just a bit. She let out a breath, leaning back against the couch. "A family, huh?" she muttered, her voice almost too soft for her usual snark. "Never really had one of those."
"You do now," you said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It’s not perfect. None of this is. But we’re all in this together."
Ellie let the words sink in, her eyes drifting toward the window as if trying to imagine what a life here could be. "Guess I could stick around," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Teach the kid how to shoot and stuff."
You chuckled softly.
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Meanwhile, on the other side of the community, Joel sat at the bar with Tommy, the weight of his emotions too much to bear any longer. He stared down at the whiskey in his hand, his knuckles white from gripping the glass too hard.
"Tommy…" Joel’s voice was low, broken, as if the words were being pulled from some deep, hidden place. "I need you to do something for me."
Tommy frowned, concern flickering across his face. "What is it?"
Joel swallowed hard; his throat tight. His eyes were red, the strain of the day finally catching up with him. "I need you to take Ellie to the Fireflies."
Tommy blinked; his confusion clear. "What? Joel, -“
"She’s immune” Joel cut him off, his voice cracking as tears welled up in his eyes. "But I can’t do it I can’t take her.  I don’t have the heart to leave my woman behind.”
Tommy’s gaze softened, understanding dawning on him. "You mean…"
"She’s pregnant, Tommy. I can’t take her with us. I can’t risk her life or the baby’s. And I can’t just leave them behind, not after everything." Joel’s voice wavered, his hands shaking as he finally let the tears fall, his tough exterior crumbling. "I thought I could do it… thought I could keep everyone safe, but I’m just not strong enough.”
Tommy leaned forward, his expression torn between concern and disbelief. "Joel, you don’t have to do this alone. You’ve got people here. You’ve got me."
Joel shook his head, wiping at his eyes. "Ellie needs to get to the Fireflies, for the cure. It’s what she’s meant for. But I can’t go, not with the baby coming. I need you to do this for me, Tommy. Please."
Tommy was silent for a long time, his heart breaking for his brother. "Joel… are you sure?"
Joel’s shoulders slumped as he nodded, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. "I don’t want to lose her, but I can’t lose them either. I can’t make this choice."
Tommy sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. "Alright," he finally said, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ll take Ellie. But, Joel...”
Joel took a shaky breath, his hands trembling as he gripped the edge of the bar. “It’s not just Ellie, Tommy. It’s me too.” His voice cracked, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself be vulnerable. “I’ve been having these panic attacks. Can’t breathe, can’t think straight. I… I haven’t felt this way since… since Sarah.”
Tommy's eyes widened, a mixture of shock and concern flooding his expression. "Joel…"
“I try to hold it together, but I’m falling apart, man. And I don’t know how to stop it,” Joel confessed, his voice breaking. “I’ll be out there, trying to protect her, trying to protect all of us, and suddenly it hits me — like a damn freight train. My chest tightens, my heart races, and I feel like… like I’m losing control.”
Tommy was silent for a moment, letting the weight of Joel’s words sink in. He'd seen his brother take on the world, survive impossible situations, but this was different. This was something Joel couldn’t fight with his fists or a gun.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Joel whispered, running a hand through his hair. "I'm scared all the time, Tommy. Scared that I’ll mess it up. That I’ll lose Ellie. That I’ll lose..." He faltered, swallowing hard. “That I’ll lose them both.”
Tommy stepped closer; his voice gentle but firm. “You don’t have to carry this alone, Joel. You never did. It’s okay to feel this way, man. No one expects you to be invincible.”
Joel let out a bitter laugh, though there was no humor in it. “But that’s what I’ve always had to be, ain’t it? The strong one. The protector. I don’t know how to be anything else.”
“You’ve been protecting people your whole damn life,” Tommy said, his tone filled with empathy. “But now… now it’s time to let people protect you too.”
Joel’s eyes were red, his jaw tight as he fought the urge to break down. “I don’t know if I can do this without her. Without them.”
“You don’t have to,” Tommy said quietly. “But I’ll take Ellie to the Fireflies. I promise I’ll keep her safe. You take care of yourself, Joel. Take care of the family you’re building here. You’ve earned that.”
Joel nodded; his heart heavy but grateful for Tommy’s understanding. He still felt the crushing weight of his fears, but for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel completely alone. Tommy was there. Ellie was there. You were there. And soon, there would be a baby who needed him too.
But still, his tears silently fell as he tried to hold himself together. This was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, and it tore him apart inside. But he knew it was the only way to protect the people he loved. Even if it meant letting go.
+++++++++++++
You sat on the couch with Ellie, the warmth of the fire crackling in the fireplace nearby, casting a soft glow across the room. Ellie was watching the flames, her mind elsewhere, while you found yourself glancing down at your belly again, thinking about everything that was changing, everything that was coming.
“Ellie,” you began softly, breaking the comfortable silence between you. She turned her head slightly, her expression expectant. “I’ve been thinking… Would you wait until after the baby is born to go to the Fireflies? Just a little longer?”
Ellie’s brow furrowed slightly, as if the idea weighed heavily on her. She didn’t answer right away, and you could see the internal struggle flicker in her eyes.
“I know you want to help,” you continued, your voice gentle. “I know you want to be the cure, to make a difference. But… it’s dangerous out there. And I don’t want to lose you.”
Ellie shifted uncomfortably, pulling her knees up to her chest as she stared down at the floor. “It’s not about me, though,” she said, her voice low but steady. “I get it, you want me to stay, but the cure... it could give the baby a better future. It could give everyone a better future. And I can’t just sit here while I have the chance to do that.”
Her words struck you deep, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for wanting her to stay, to keep her close, to keep her safe. But Ellie had always been selfless, always thinking of others, always wanting to make things better.
You sighed, resting a hand on your belly as the weight of her words sank in. “I just want you to be safe, Ellie. You mean a lot to all of us. And I don’t want to see you hurt.”
Ellie smiled faintly, though her expression was filled with understanding. “I know. But… if I can do something to stop all of this, the infection, the danger, then the baby… they won’t have to grow up like this. They could have a real life, without the constant fear of what’s out there.”
The thought of that future, one where the baby didn’t have to face the same horrors that you and Ellie had, made your heart ache. She was right, and that was what made it so hard.
Ellie noticed the worry lines forming on your forehead and reached over, giving your arm a gentle nudge. “Hey,” she said, her voice softening, “don’t stress yourself out. You’ve got enough to think about. Go and rest. You need to take care of yourself, and the peanut.”
You offered her a tired smile, appreciating the concern in her tone. “You sound like Joel.”
Ellie smirked. “Guess he’s rubbing off on me.”
You laughed softly, but the weight of the conversation still hung in the air. “Just… promise me you’ll think about it, Ellie. Please.”
Ellie met your gaze, her eyes serious. “I’ll think about it,” she said, and though you knew her mind was made up, her words gave you a small sense of comfort.
With that, you slowly stood, feeling the fatigue settle into your bones. Ellie watched you with a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Go rest, Mom-to-be,” she teased. “I’ll be here.”
You chuckled softly, grateful for the lightness she brought to the moment. “Alright, alright. I’m going. Good night, Ellie.”
“Good night” she replied, smiling as you entered the bedroom.
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Joel stood outside for what felt like an eternity, staring into the darkness, weighed down by the decision he had made. He knew it was the right thing to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. The thought of sending Ellie away with Tommy gnawed at him, the fear of losing her or failing her again tightening around his chest like a vice.
Finally, with a heavy sigh, he walked back into the house, his footsteps slow and hesitant. The place was quiet, a stillness that only made the ache in his heart more pronounced. He stopped by the door to your bedroom, hearing the soft rhythm of your breathing. You were resting, just like you needed to be.
But there was another conversation he couldn’t avoid.
Joel walked down the hall to Ellie’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and he could see her sitting on the edge of her bed, lost in her own thoughts. She turned her head when she noticed him, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“What’s up?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual, but there was an edge to her voice that Joel couldn’t ignore.
Joel hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. He couldn’t meet her gaze right away. “Ellie, we need to talk,” he said, his voice low and thick with the weight of his words.
She sat up straighter, sensing that something was wrong. “What is it? What happened?”
Joel rubbed a hand over his face, trying to find the right words, but all that came out was, “Tommy’s taking you to the Fireflies.”
The room fell into a tense silence, Ellie’s eyes widening in shock before narrowing in anger. “What? No,” she said, her voice rising. “You’re supposed to take me. That was the plan!”
“I can’t,” Joel replied, his voice breaking just slightly as he tried to keep his composure. “I can’t leave them behind. Not with the baby coming.”
“Are you kidding me?” Ellie snapped, standing up now, her fists clenched at her sides. “You’re just gonna pass me off to Tommy like I’m some burden? What the hell, Joel?”
“It’s not like that,” Joel said, shaking his head, but the guilt was already eating at him. “I’m trying to protect you.”
Ellie scoffed, her frustration boiling over. “Protect me? you’re just okay with sending me away? Why can’t you take me?”
Joel took a deep breath, the panic rising inside him. “Ellie, I’ve been having these panic attacks,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “I can’t—I’m not strong enough anymore. I can’t do it. I can’t protect you the way I need to, not with all of this happening. I don’t want to fail you.”
Ellie’s anger wavered for a moment, her eyes searching his face. “Joel…,” she said, her voice softer now. “You’re not gonna fail me. You never have.”
“I already have,” Joel whispered, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Too many times. I couldn’t save Sarah. I couldn’t stop Tess from getting hurt. I won’t let you get hurt too, Ellie. And I can’t leave them—her, the baby—behind. I just can’t.”
Ellie’s face softened, but the frustration was still there. “Joel, I don’t want Tommy to take me. I want you. We’ve been through all of this together. It’s you and me. You don’t get to just hand me off when it gets hard.”
Joel’s eyes were wet now, the emotions too much to hold back. “I’m trying to keep you safe, Ellie. That’s all I want.”
Joel stood outside for what felt like an eternity, staring into the darkness, weighed down by the decision he had made. He knew it was the right thing to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. The thought of sending Ellie away with Tommy gnawed at him, the fear of losing her or failing her again tightening around his chest like a vice.
Finally, with a heavy sigh, he walked back into the house, his footsteps slow and hesitant. The place was quiet, a stillness that only made the ache in his heart more pronounced. He stopped by the door to your bedroom, hearing the soft rhythm of your breathing. You were resting, just like you needed to be.
But there was another conversation he couldn’t avoid.
Joel walked down the hall to Ellie’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and he could see her sitting on the edge of her bed, lost in her own thoughts. She turned her head when she noticed him, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“What’s up?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual, but there was an edge to her voice that Joel couldn’t ignore.
Joel hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. He couldn’t meet her gaze right away. “Ellie, we need to talk,” he said, his voice low and thick with the weight of his words.
She sat up straighter, sensing that something was wrong. “What is it? What happened?”
Joel rubbed a hand over his face, trying to find the right words, but all that came out was, “Tommy’s taking you to the Fireflies.”
The room fell into a tense silence, Ellie’s eyes widening in shock before narrowing in anger. “What? No,” she said, her voice rising. “You’re supposed to take me. That was the plan!”
“I can’t,” Joel replied, his voice breaking just slightly as he tried to keep his composure. “I can’t leave them behind. Not with the baby coming.”
“Are you kidding me?” Ellie snapped, standing up now, her fists clenched at her sides. “You’re just gonna pass me off to Tommy like I’m some burden? What the hell, Joel?”
“It’s not like that,” Joel said, shaking his head, but the guilt was already eating at him. “I’m trying to protect you.”
Ellie scoffed, her frustration boiling over. “Protect me? I thought you didn’t want me to go at all, and now you’re just okay with sending me away? Why can’t you take me?”
Joel took a deep breath, the panic rising inside him. “Ellie, I’ve been having these panic attacks,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “I can’t—I’m not strong enough anymore. I can’t do it. I can’t protect you the way I need to, not with all of this happening. I don’t want to fail you.”
Ellie’s anger wavered for a moment, her eyes searching his face. “Joel…,” she said, her voice softer now. “You’re not gonna fail me. You never have.”
“I already have,” Joel whispered, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Too many times. I couldn’t save Sarah. I couldn’t stop Tess from getting hurt. I won’t let you get hurt too, Ellie. And I can’t leave them—her, the baby—behind. I just can’t.”
Ellie’s face softened, but the frustration was still there. “Joel, I don’t want Tommy to take me. I want you. We’ve been through all of this together. It’s you and me. You don’t get to just hand me off when it gets hard.”
Joel’s eyes were wet now, the emotions too much to hold back. “I’m trying to keep you safe, Ellie. That’s all I want.”
“I know,” she said, her voice wavering. “But you’re all I’ve got. You can’t just let me go like that.”
They stood there in the quiet room, both of them battling their own fears and emotions. Joel wiped at his eyes, trying to collect himself.
“I’m not abandoning you,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t make this choice. I can’t risk losing all of you. Tommy… he’s strong. He’ll get you there.”
Ellie shook her head, frustration flashing across her face. “You’re not listening. I don’t want Tommy to take me—I want you.”
Joel looked at her, his heart twisting. He hated this, hated that he was letting her down. “Ellie... I’m not your father,” he said, his voice cracking with the weight of the admission. He had never said it out loud like this, and it hit him as hard as it hit her.
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Ellie looked like she’d been slapped. Her face hardened, jaw clenched. “Well,” she started, her voice sharp and bitter, “your girlfriend told me we could be a family.” She glared at him, daring him to contradict her.
Joel winced. The truth of it stung, the possibility of a family he didn’t feel worthy of. “I know,” he murmured, struggling to find the right thing to say. “But Ellie, that doesn’t mean I can risk everything—risk you—for a chance at something that might never come.”
Ellie shook her head, her eyes filling with tears she refused to let fall. “You don’t get it, do you?” she whispered. “I don’t want a family that leaves me behind when things get tough. I don’t want Tommy, or anyone else. I just want you.”
Joel’s heart shattered at her words. He saw the hurt, the fear of abandonment in her eyes, and it crushed him. He stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off.
“Ellie, please...” Joel started, but she cut him off, her voice trembling with emotion.
“No, Joel. You don’t get to decide what’s best for me without even asking me what I want. We’ve been through too much for that. And now, just when we could finally be something—be a family—you’re pushing me away.”
“I’m trying to keep you safe,” Joel repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“And what if I don’t want safe?” Ellie shot back, her voice shaking with frustration. “What if I want you?”
Joel swallowed hard, unable to find the words to answer her. He had spent so long keeping her at arm’s length, convincing himself that it was for her own good. But now, standing here, watching her fight to stay close to him, he realized how much he needed her too. How much she had become a part of his life, of him.
Joel’s jaw clenched, the weight of everything pressing down on him. He didn’t want to hurt Ellie, didn’t want to push her away, but he felt trapped. Torn between protecting her and staying with the new life that was growing inside you. He took a deep breath, his voice low and firm, but his heart breaking as he spoke.
“That’s final, Ellie,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’ll go with Tommy.”
The words seemed to echo in the room, heavy and irreversible. Ellie’s face crumpled in disbelief, anger flashing through her eyes, but before she could respond, Joel turned and walked out, the ache in his chest almost unbearable.
He moved through the quiet house, his footsteps heavy, his heart even heavier. His mind raced with guilt, fear, and uncertainty. He didn’t want to lose Ellie, but he also couldn’t leave you behind, not with the baby on the way. He just couldn’t.
As he reached the bedroom where you were sleeping, he paused in the doorway. The soft sound of your steady breathing filled the room, offering a strange kind of peace amidst the chaos swirling inside him. Joel leaned against the doorframe, his eyes fixed on your sleeping form, wondering how everything had become so complicated.
He stepped inside, moving quietly so as not to wake you. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he ran a hand through his hair, staring down at his hands as if the answers to his problems might appear there. The weight of his decision pressed down on him, and for the first time in a long while, Joel felt truly lost.
You stirred in your sleep, sensing his presence. Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light in the room. Seeing Joel sitting there, shoulders slumped, staring down at his hands, you felt a surge of concern wash over you.
“What’s wrong?” you asked softly, your voice groggy from sleep but laced with worry.
Joel flinched slightly, as if he hadn’t expected you to wake up. He shook his head, his eyes not meeting yours. “Nothin’,” he muttered, his voice quiet and strained. “Go back to sleep.”
But you knew better. You could see the tension in his body, the heaviness in his expression. You reached out, gently touching his arm, urging him to lie down beside you. “Joel… talk to me.”
He hesitated for a moment, the weight of the world still pressing down on him. But instead of saying anything, he let out a long breath and slid under the covers next to you. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if every action carried the burden he was trying to hide.
You shifted closer to him, resting your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, steady but faster than usual. His arm wrapped around you almost instinctively, holding you close, but you could feel the tension in his muscles, the internal battle he was fighting.
“You don’t have to carry it all on your own,” you whispered, your hand gently tracing patterns on his chest.
Joel’s arm tightened around you, but he didn’t respond right away. After a long silence, he finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “I’m tryin’ to keep everything together… for you, for the baby… for Ellie.”
You looked up at him, your heart aching at the sight of the pain etched into his face. “And who’s keeping you together, Joel?”
He didn’t answer. He just held you tighter, as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded in that moment. The silence stretched between you, heavy but comforting in its own way.
Joel exhaled slowly, the tension in his body softening just a little as he held you close. He could feel your warmth against him, the steady rhythm of your breath, and it made something inside him loosen—a little piece of that ever-present weight.
He ran a hand through your hair, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know,” he started, his rough tone softening, “I used to think I was too broken for this… for love, for family, for you.”
You lifted your head slightly, looking at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Joel…”
But he continued, his words flowing quietly into the night. “But you—you’ve been so good to me. You, with your stubbornness and your heart… you gave me somethin’ I thought I’d never have again. You make me want to be better. For you, for the baby.”
His hand traced slow, gentle circles on your back, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly, the heaviness in the air easing just a little. “You’re a sap, Joel,” you teased, though your heart was fluttering at his words.
Joel chuckled, the sound low and raspy, but it carried a warmth you hadn’t heard from him in a while. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” he said with a small smirk, his eyes softening as he looked at you.
You settled back against his chest, your cheek pressed to the steady rise and fall of his breath. His hand continued to stroke your back, grounding both of you in that moment. But even as the quiet warmth between you spread, you could feel there was something deeper weighing on him still.
After a few moments, Joel spoke again, this time more serious. “There’s somethin’ I gotta do. And you’re not gonna like it.”
You shifted slightly, lifting your head to look at him again, your brows furrowing with concern. “Joel, what do you mean?”
His eyes flickered with something—guilt, regret—but he swallowed it down, forcing a gentle smile for you. “You’re gonna hate me for a little while, darlin’. But I need to do what’s right. For you. For Ellie. For this family.”
You opened your mouth to protest, worry creeping into your chest, but Joel stopped you with a soft kiss on your forehead. “Just trust me,” he whispered. “I’ll make it right.”
You searched his eyes, seeing the weight of the decision he had made. Part of you wanted to push, to ask him what he meant, but the other part knew better. Joel had always carried the burden of protecting those he loved, even when it hurt him.
Eventually, the quiet comfort of his presence and the exhaustion of the day began to take over. You rested your head back on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath you.
“I trust you, Joel,” you whispered, though your mind still whirled with questions.
He held you close, his arm tightening around you, and for a moment, he felt like he could breathe again. But he knew, deep down, that the decision he had made would change things. For better or worse, he would protect the people he loved, even if it meant you’d be angry with him for a time.
As your breathing began to slow, sleep tugging at you, Joel leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I love you,” he whispered into the quiet, his voice raw with emotion. “No matter what happens. I love you.”
You didn’t respond, already drifting off to sleep on his chest, but the warmth of his words followed you into your dreams.
Joel he couldn’t stop feeling his heart breaking at the sight of you sleeping on his chest right now. He had made you believe that safety was a place wherever he was, he made you believe that you were going to have a place to sleep next to him to keep the demons away.
Joel, still wide awake, stared at the ceiling, the weight of his decision settling heavily over him. But for now, with you sleeping peacefully beside him, he could pretend that everything would be okay, just for a little while longer.
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You slowly woke to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, stretching and blinking against the brightness. As your mind cleared, you reached for Joel, but the spot next to you was empty. A sense of unease settled in your stomach.
Sitting up, you glanced around the room, noticing the stillness. That’s when your eyes caught sight of a folded piece of paper on the nightstand, the sight of it sending a rush of anxiety through you. You could see your name written in Joel's familiar handwriting, and your heart sank.
You reached for the letter, your fingers trembling slightly as you unfolded it. The words blurred for a moment, but you forced yourself to focus, the reality of the situation washing over you as you read:
Darlin’,
I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I have to do this. I’m leaving you here while I take Ellie to the Fireflies. I thought long and hard about it, and I believe it’s what’s best for all of us.
I can’t risk losing you or the baby. I don’t want to drag you into danger. This is something Ellie needs to do, and I can’t leave her behind. I hope you can understand.
You’re stronger than you know, and I trust you to take care of yourself. I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise. Just… please take care of yourself and the baby.
I love you.
—Joel
Your heart raced as you reread the letter, each line cutting deeper than the last. Confusion, anger, and heartbreak swirled within you, each emotion colliding as you tried to process his decision. He was leaving. Leaving you behind to take Ellie away, and you had no way to stop him.
You stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor as you rushed to the door, but there was only silence on the other side. You felt a surge of frustration and fear; how could he think this was for the best?
After a moment, you took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself. You could be angry later, but right now, you needed to find him. You grabbed your jacket and hurried out of the bedroom, determination pushing you forward.
“Joel!” you called out, your voice echoing through the empty house. There was no response, only the quiet that surrounded you. You raced down the hall, hoping to find him somewhere inside, but he was nowhere to be found.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you stepped outside, the cool air hitting your skin. You squinted against the light, scanning the area for any sign of him.
The sight of him made your heart drop. Tommy’s face said everything. He looked worn, the weight of the situation clear in his eyes, and that only fueled your rising panic. You rushed toward him, emotions spilling over as tears began to blur your vision.
“Tommy!” you cried, your voice breaking. “Have you seen Joel? He… he’s leaving me here!”
Tommy stepped forward, his arms opening instinctively as you reached him. You collapsed into his embrace, the warmth of his support contrasting sharply with the cold fear wrapping around you. As he held you close, your tears flowed freely, each sob echoing the pain and confusion swirling inside.
“It’s okay,” Tommy murmured, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “I’m here. You’re not alone.”
You buried your face in his shoulder, the reality of the situation crashing over you like a tidal wave. “He thinks he’s doing what’s best, but he’s not! I can’t believe he would leave me.”
Tommy held you tighter, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I know. I know it hurts. But Joel cares about you—about both of you—more than anything. He’s just scared.”
“But I need him here!” you exclaimed, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes, the pain reflected back at you. “I don’t want to be left behind. We’re supposed to be a family!”
“I’m your family,” Tommy whispered, his voice steady and sincere.
You felt a flicker of comfort in his words, but it didn’t erase the emptiness Joel’s absence left behind.
………
“Tommy,” Joel had said, his voice low and urgent as he leaned closer, eyes dark with concern. “I need you to promise me something.”
“Anything,” Tommy replied, sensing the gravity of the moment.
“Take care of my baby,” Joel had insisted, his expression fierce. “Promise me they’ll be okay.”
Tommy had nodded, ready to reassure him. “Of course, Joel. I’ll do everything I can to keep the baby safe.”
But then Joel’s gaze sharpened, a hint of desperation in his voice. “No, I mean my baby,” he clarified, referring not just to the life growing inside you but to you as well. “Promise me both will be okay.”
Tommy had felt the weight of that request, the unspoken fears underlying Joel’s words. “You have my word, brother. I’ll protect them both.”
……
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can i request a [🍪] chocolate chip cookie, for “bed chem” by sabrina carpenter
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₊˚⊹ᰔ 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦
pairing: soft!dom!rafe x kook!sweetheart!reader
summary: ❝how you talk so sweet when you’re doing bad things. that’s bed chem.❞ — rafe loves coming home to his girl.
warnings: sooo much dirty talk, lots of praise, grinding (?), unprotected sex, brief mention of reader having a size kink, multiple orgasms, love biting, yk rafe has to talk you through it ;)
word count: 1.0k
a/n: me realizing this is the first explicit piece i write with rafe and kook!sweetheart!reader :0 feel free to participate in this little poll if you want to!
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“fuck, just look at you..” rafe had you laid out on your bed, his lips whispering sweet nothings against your skin. “so fucking beautiful, ‘always ready for me to take you when i get home.” he ran his large hands up your bare thighs, his cock stirring in his briefs. you took your bottom lip between your teeth, his rough palms a stark contrast to your soft flesh. “this is all i think about when we’re apart.” you gasped when he spread your legs open, his eyes darkening at the sight of your glossy folds. “you’re already wet just thinking about it, huh?” you nodded, meeting his lust filled gaze.
“you’re so passive with me, baby, i love that. ‘love when i walk in here and you give me those ‘fuck me’ eyes.” he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your jaw as his hand trailed down to where you needed him most. you couldn’t help the moan slipping past your lips when the pads of his fingers found your needy clit, all of his attention zeroing in on the way you melted into his touch. “coming home to you like this.. fuck this is all i’ll ever need.” you swore you could cum from his words alone. cupping his face, you pulled him down to meet your lips. like always, he tasted like a little bit of liquor with a hint of mint.
“please, rafe..” you weren’t exactly sure what you were begging for, but since rafe always called the shots, you let him decide where this was going to go. you watched as he took himself out of his boxers, a shaky breath emitting from your mouth. you could never get used to the mere sight of him, the size difference of you two making butterflies erupt in your tummy every single time. rafe laid down, pulling you on top of him as his cock sprang up against his stomach. “grind on me, pretty girl, you know how i like it.” his hands rested in the curves of your hips as you dragged your soaked cunt up and down the underside of his length.
rafe groaned, his head falling back against your pillows as your sensitive bundle of nerves glided on top of his cock with ease. “shit,” he said through gritted teeth, “you’re doing so good for me, doll face.” you whimpered, feeling empty while fighting the urge to sink onto him. “wanna feel you inside me, ray..” your nails dug into the skin of his toned chest, your boyfriend’s mouth falling open in a silent moan. “not yet, baby, let’s go slow, ‘promise i’ll be fucking you into oblivion very soon.” your cheeks heated, muttering a pathetic ‘okay..’ before continuing your ministrations.
rafe was in absolute awe watching the way you moved on top of him, those little sounds falling from your swollen lips as you panted and whined from not being filled up. you jolted with every swipe of your clit against the head of his cock. rafe knew how sensitive you were, how it never took much to have you making a mess on him in no time. that fact turned him on more than anything else he could think of. adjusting the grip he had on your hips, you let out a yelp when he started dragging you up and down his cock himself. “i want that pussy greedy and sucking me in when i flip you over.”
you shuddered, feeling the familiar heat start to boil until rafe brought it to the surface. rafe thought you looked the prettiest when you were cumming, your expression ingrained in his brain forever. “oh, my g- fuck, rafe!” he knew it was good when you cursed out loud, your body trembling and shaking as your high washed over you. rafe pulled you into his chest, peppering your face with kisses until you were nothing but jelly in his arms. without giving you any time to recover, rafe pushed your face into the pillows, snaking an arm underneath your waist before thrusting into you without warning.
thankfully your scream was muffled, your fingers digging into the sheets for dear life. rafe’s skin was flushed to your own, the weight of him on your back making you mewl. “so fucking tight, holy shit.” he kissed the spot behind your ear, his arms enveloping yours. you intertwined your fingers with his as he thrusted into you, stretching you so deliciously. you moaned, the feeling of his cock kissing your cervix made you clench around him. arching into his thrusts, he rested his head in the curve of your neck. “you’re so fucking perfect, ‘taking it so good.” rafe bit your earlobe, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine.
you nearly lost it when he angled his hips, the thick head of his cock hitting the spot inside of you that made you see stars. “oh!” you gasped, your face contorting into one of pleasure. “i know baby, fuckin’ hell, i know.” he shuddered, feeling the start of his peak forming in his stomach. “gonna fill you up, ‘make you take every last drop..” he pressed a kiss between your shoulder blades before sitting up on his knees. adjusting your position so your ass was in the air, you lost all ability to form a single thought when he took your hands behind your back and plowed into you until you were crying out, begging for him to never stop.
when the band snapped, and rafe fell over the edge, he cursed against your skin, holding you still as your own orgasm hit you at the same time. he painted your walls with his cum, his hands never leaving yours. you loved squeezing around him, taking him for everything he had while his breath fanned against your skin. he stayed nestled inside you for a few minutes before pulling out with a hiss. you laid limp, your boyfriend pulling you close as he stroked the side of your face. wiping the stray tears from your cheeks, rafe admired your post-sex afterglow. “what are you thinking about?” he hummed, snapping you out of your daze.
“how you talk so sweet when you’re doing bad things.”
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katsu2ji · 1 day
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ignorance is bliss — k. tsukishima
a/n: he's so silly i wanna take a 0.5 of him
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you never thought in a million years that you'd have a picture on your phone of your boyfriend—your sweet but sour, sometimes asshole-ish (lovingly) boyfriend—cuddled up with your stuffed animal, but here we are.
tsukishima had come over late to study and, naturally, that meant he was spending the night. you could tell from the moment he called you saying that he was on his way that he was exhausted, but you knew he'd never tell you that. even when his yawns broke the comfortable silence of pens scratching and fingers typing along a laptop keyboard, he still didn't give in. it took you looking at the clock reading 1:47AM and reminding him that you guys had all weekend to study together before he finally accepted his fate, changing his clothes and settling onto your bed as you went in the bathroom to get unready.
"oh, and tomorrow we need to review chapter 36 and 37, since we didn't get to them tonight. you have your test on wednesday, right?"
no answer. you turn off the water faucet, wiping your hands on the towel as listened for him. now that you've thought about it, you hadn't heard more than a quiet "mhm..." from him since you first started talking.
you turned off the light, adjusting your sleep shirt as you stepped out of the bathroom and into your bedroom. quietly, you walked over to where he lay on the bed, finding him still.
"kei?" you tested. no answer again—he was out. you smiled as you heard soft snores coming from him; that smile became even bigger as you watch him stir in his sleep, wrapping his arms around the dinosaur jellycat he'd gotten you for your birthday and pulling it close to him.
trying to make as little noise as possible, you turn and grab your phone off the nightstand; this moment needed photo evidence, otherwise you knew your boyfriend would deny it ever happened. what you didn't realize, however, was that your flash was on, meaning that the moment you snapped that 0.5 in the blonde's face, he jumped, his whole body waking up and moving away from the stuffed animal he was so adorably holding moments ago.
you couldn't help but laugh, a hand going over you mouth as you watched him slowly sit up and look at you with a both sleepy and slightly surprised expression. you felt bad for waking him up so suddenly, but that was quickly suppressed by the humor you found in his reaction.
"what the hell were you doing? what's so funny?" he was used to your antics, but it didn't stop him from questioning you.
you looked down at your phone and smiled. you'd gotten the perfect picture, even if you had woken him up for it. you decided you wouldn't say anything to him about it for tonight, keeping this to yourself. you turned your phone off, setting it back down on the nightstand before moving to get into bed.
"no, no, it's nothing. i'm sorry i woke you up, though. if it helps any, you looked adorable." you laughed out, kissing his cheek as you settled next to him.
aside from his face slightly reddening, kei didn't say anything, just shuffled over to make room. he knew you were lying, his eyes narrowing in the dark, but he was too tired to give a damn about what you were lying about. watching you for a moment, he sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes as he muttered something along the lines of "blinding me with your freakin' flash." he reached across you a bit and set them on the nightstand.
he then moved to lay down in the bed, pulling you down with him as he settled back to sleep. he laid on his back, an arm around you as you laid at his side.
"it doesn't, but thanks. now sleep."
his eyes were already closing, a yawn finishing his sentence. he muttered a good night to you, kissing the crown of your head before letting out a sigh, grateful to finally be resting—for real this time.
you knew that in the morning, he'd probably have more questions about what was really happening, but for right now you let him drift off. you soon followed after, the only sounds in the room being the steady breathing between the two of you.
as soon as you could, that picture was gonna be your phone's home screen. but for now, ignorance was bliss.
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katsu2ji © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything of the sort with my work! i work very hard and you simply do not have my permission.
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stopbeeping · 2 days
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Torn - CL & MV
summary: Meeting her soulmate in the middle of the night wasn't part of the plan, but apparently Charles couldn't wait until the next day.
note: soulmate AU
warning: a teensy bit of smuttish sentence if you squint.
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“Why do I have a feeling I’m gonna get another day of community service?” 
She looked over at Max who was leaning against the elevator’s cool metal wall, eyes closed as he thought about the post-qualifying madness. Luring the journalists outside like the Pied Piper, clearly enraging the FIA officials was deliciously petty, and she knew this fixture of pettiness and cockiness would benefit her at the end of the day. But right now, at least until they stepped inside their shared hotel room, the main question was whether or not the FIA would retaliate for this move of his. 
This question wasn’t really a question to be answered, he was just thinking out loud, but she couldn’t help but step in front of him and stand on her toes to kiss his chin. “You heard what Lewis said. You shouldn’t do it, no matter how many days you get. Although, I read some posts in which they suggest a cat shelter for the location,” she added with a wide grin when he opened one eye to look down at her.
With a thoughtful hum, he reached for her hand and glanced over at the panel on the wall across the elevator to see how many floors they had left until they arrived. “A cat shelter is risky. I might end up bringing home a few,” he said with a playful smile. “So, what does it feel like to be the girlfriend of a convicted criminal?”
Rolling her eyes, she moved to stand in the door as the elevator slowed down to come to a halt, but her fingers were still laced with his as he stepped next to her. “You got community service, not a race ban,” she pointed out once the door opened, then began to walk out with her boyfriend right behind. 
“Oh, so if I got a race ban, you would be all over me?” he joked, although she could tell this wasn’t entirely a joke. 
Over the past few months that had passed since they met by total accident in a shop in Monaco, she learned that he could be dead serious about certain things. If it meant that she would love him more, he would probably go out and commit war crimes on the track for her. When she stopped in front of the door, she looked up at him with a sweet smile. “Well, I was planning to be all over you once we stepped inside the room, but if you insist, I can wait until that happens,” she said with a shrug.
Max let out a deep growl as he hurriedly forced his keycard into the slot, then dragged her inside just enough to close the door and push her back against it. His lips crashed into hers without the hint of hesitation, hands moving down her sides to reach under her yellow mini sundress and see if she wanted him just as much as he needed her after today. She moaned into his mouth when he slid his fingers between her wet folds, teasing her just enough to get her to move her hips a little, silently begging for more than that. 
She didn’t have to ask twice, he happily provided his services to satisfy her in every way possible, and she was also keen to make him feel a little better after today’s events. They made a good pair in and out of bed, with him taking his time showing her the things he loved, explaining some things about F1 that she hadn’t known before, and he was overall the sweetest and most honest man she had ever met. 
This was the very first race weekend she attended as his girlfriend, while today was the very first day when she visited the track with him. Their relationship was nothing new, his fans had already seen photos of the two of them together, but there was still something that stirred up her feelings, making her nervous from the pressure of performing well on his side. Could she live up to the expectations? Could she be the perfect girlfriend for him? 
For now, she decided to enjoy every second of this. She tried to close out every doubt, every small voice in the back of her mind telling her she wasn’t good enough. And as they were in bed with Max’s chest pressed to her back, an arm protectively wrapped around her waist, she began to believe that maybe this could be something good. He could become her home eventually. Maybe he could love her the way she always yearned to be loved. 
She woke up at one point in the night, feeling cold from the lack of physical contact. As she opened an eye to see if he was even in bed with her, she noticed a few strange things. Firstly, she didn’t have a comforter covering her. This could be explained, of course, maybe she kicked it off. Secondly, Max wasn’t there and she didn’t hear any movement from around her. Thirdly, this wasn’t their room. It was a hotel room, she could tell, but there were things missing that gave away that she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. 
Rubbing her eyes, she sat up and took a look around, only to find a figure standing by the window with their back to her. The broad shoulders gave away that it was a man, wearing sweats and a white shirt, although she couldn’t quite make out their face in the dark. Who could it be? She didn’t dare to say a word, not when all she could think about was how she ended up here, how this man could take her from Max’s side without a problem.
Suddenly he let out a long sigh and turned around, looking genuinely surprised to find her there. “Oh, you came!” he exclaimed happily, slowly moving closer to the bed. 
“C–came? I didn’t, you brought me here, I should–Wait,” she suddenly interrupted herself, “Charles?!”
A shy smile appeared on his lips when he turned on the light on the nightstand by her side, then kneeled next to the bed with his forearms resting on the side of the mattress. “You don’t remember, do you?” 
She had absolutely no idea what she was supposed to remember, but… Strangely, she didn’t feel like screaming for help or darting out of the room. If anything, she felt safe, maybe even safer than she did in her boyfriend’s arms. There was something about the way Charles’s green eyes were watching her, full of a level of familiarity that she couldn’t quite place. 
Charles licked his lips, then let out a soft sigh. “I know you can teleport. You know what they say about those who can do it, right?” Of course, she thought, they are the ones who have a soulmate, someone they can meet whenever and wherever they are. “But you never teleported to Max, and he never came to you either, correct?” he voiced her next thought. 
Shaking her head, she pulled up her knees and rested her forehead against them. This was so confusing. Charles said that it was her who came to him, but how could that be possible? As a child, she did have another kid she visited often, someone who also came to see her sometimes, but that was a long time ago and they hadn’t met since then. So, if she had that kid in her life, the one who could just as well be her soulmate, what was she doing here with him?
As if he could sense her turbulent thoughts, Charles gulped loudly, then stood up to sit down next to her, a hand landing on her back to rub it in a soothing manner. “That boy’s name was Marc.” Her gaze landed on him, eyes opened wide from the surprise, but she still managed to nod. Before she could ask how he knew that, he flashed a small smile at her then went, “My full name is Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc. I… had a phase at the time when I wanted my friends to call me Marc. Don’t ask why,” he explained with a forced laugh to lighten the mood. 
A mix of strong emotions rushed through her body while her brain tried to process the fact that the boy who was supposedly her soulmate was the same guy who was now staring at her with those familiar green eyes. Because now that she looked into them, taking her time to examine them, she realized that she had seen them before, and not just on a photo or a video. And suddenly, without registering what she was doing, she smacked his head. 
“Ouch! Why did you do that?” he asked as he rubbed the spot where her hand met his skull. 
“If you really are my soulmate as you claim, where the hell have you been all this time?!” she said angrily, eyes narrowed at him. She was mad, yes, because back then she had been certain that boy was special, she could feel it even as a child, but then he stopped coming, and she couldn’t reach him anymore, so she began to assume he was nothing more than an imaginary friend. And now here he was, all those years later, telling her all this when he knew perfectly well she had a boyfriend. “And why now? I’m happy with Max, what do you want from me?”
At first, he was only watching her with his bottom lip between his teeth, looking like a puppy that knew they had done something wrong but were now trying to get away with it with that adorable look in their eyes, but she wasn’t having any of it. Charles soon realized that, so he took a deep breath and tousled his already messy hair a bit. “My older brother knew about this… thing that happened to us. He once overheard us talking in my room, and when he peeked inside, he saw you there. He told me about this whole soulmate thing, and… I don’t know, I got scared,” he explained with a guilty look on his face. 
“So why now? If you could stay away from me for so long, why did you have to come forward now?” she tried quietly. 
Charles shrugged. “I saw the photos of you and Max, and… I recognized you right away. You didn’t come to the races, so everything was fine, but seeing you in person yesterday? That was… different. I don’t know about you, but for me there was a spark, a rush of memories in my mind, and I couldn’t ignore it. I just want to talk. If you don’t want to leave him, that’s fine, but I wanted to make sure I have a final answer from you. Say no, and I’ll stay away,” he told her, his voice cracking a little. 
In all honesty, she was way too confused to have a final decision about this. Yes, she was a little angry that he had disappeared for so long, and she did love Max, but missing the chance to be with her soulmate? There had to be a reason why fate brought them together, who was she to resist? Was it even possible to resist this forever? With a groan, she buried her face in her hand and tried to pull herself together. “Can I give you an answer some other time? This is too much, I can’t think straight,” she asked before glancing up at him. 
Nodding, he leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her cheek, but he didn’t pull away, he stayed so close to her that she could feel his hot breath on her chin when he looked her in the eye. “Take your time, mon coeur.”
As she let out a sigh, her brain moved on to an important question. “So… How exactly do I get back to my hotel room?” she wondered out loud. 
“You don’t know?” Without hesitation, she shook her head. Charles reached out to swipe a strand of hair back behind her ear, but his eyes never left hers. “I assume you haven’t done this in a long time. Just relax and think about going back to that place.”
“We haven’t met since we were kids, how can you remember this?” 
With a gulp, he finally moved away. “It doesn’t matter.” She gave him a serious look, one that quickly made him talk. “The fact we didn’t talk doesn’t mean I haven’t… been around. I occasionally checked on you, but I never dared to talk to you. You were happy without me, I didn’t see the point of ruining it for you,” he admitted. 
She let out a long sigh as she thought about this. All the times she felt like someone was watching her, all the times this made her feel good instead of freaked out now seemed to make sense. It was all because of him. He was there for her, even when she didn’t know that. With a nod, she was ready to put this behind her and focus on her breathing with her eyes closed. In and out, over and over again, until her mind was clear enough to take her home to her boyfriend.  
A few seconds later she was back in the familiar room, sitting on the edge of the now empty bed. She looked over at the alarm clock on the nightstand to see what time it was, and it was odd that Max wasn’t sleeping. The bathroom was dark, there was no light seeping through the small space under the door, but if he wasn’t there, where the hell could he be? His phone wasn’t there either, so she looked at her own and saw a bunch of missed calls from him. 
Without hesitation, she hit the call button and waited until she heard the familiar voice from the other end of the line. “Schatje, where the hell are you? You weren’t in the room and you didn’t answer your phone,” he said worriedly.
“I’m in our room now,” she replied, her mind in overdrive as she tried to think of an explanation. “Sorry, I think I started sleepwalking again. Haven’t really happened since I was a kid,” she lied, her heart already hurting from the fact she had to be dishonest. Max didn’t deserve this, so fuck, it was hard to keep the truth from him. 
She could hear a sigh of relief from him. “I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere.”
“Okay, I’ll be waiting.” 
While she waited, she had time to think. She loved Max, they were good together, but having a soulmate was rare. Should she really give up the chance to see what it was like to be in a relationship with your own? With someone who loved you unconditionally, someone who could be there anytime you needed them? Yes, her current boyfriend would probably leave everything behind if she needed him, but that was different. It wasn’t meaningless, it was just… not enough. Maybe. She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure about anything anymore, to be honest. 
So, before the Dutchman could return, she picked up her phone and looked for Charles’s profile on social media, then sent him a short message. Baby steps. Just to figure out if we could be friends first. Then we’ll see where that leads us. And soon his response arrived. Anything you want. We’ll keep it a secret if you don’t want Max to know.
This was bad on so many levels, she knew she was supposed to tell him the truth about this, but should she really tell him all this before finding out if this could work between Charles and her? It was selfish, she knew, but she didn’t want to be left alone. Letting out a groan, she lay back on the bed with her phone in her stomach. No. She should be honest. Maybe Max would understand. Maybe he would give her the time and space she needed to find out where this could lead with his rival. 
Soon the door opened, and Max kicked off his shoes in record speed to get in bed next to her. “I was so worried about you,” he told her. 
Now that he was here, her previous bravery disappeared. He couldn’t break his heart. Not when he was so dedicated and clearly in love. She would tell Charles to forget about her message. It would be better not to risk a perfectly working relationship. Damn, why did this have to be so hard? Why did that stupid soulmate of hers appear in her life after all that time? 
“What’s on your mind?”
“Do you believe in soulmates? You know, especially that story about how they can teleport to each other?” she asked quietly. At first, he looked a little confused, but then he nodded as his thumb massaged her side. “I read something about it, and it made me think. If your soulmate showed up today, telling you that you belonged together… What would you do?”
“You want to know if I would leave you?” She nodded. “I would like to get to know them first. Why would I leave someone I love when I don’t even know that other person? Yeah, they might be destined to be my soulmate, but I wouldn’t want to force myself into a relationship just because of that. So no, I wouldn’t leave you. I would just spend some time with them to see if there’s any reason to believe the stories,” he replied. When she moved forward to bury her face into his chest, Max began to rub her back and placed a soft kiss on her head. “It’s not an article, is it?”
Looking up, she noticed the realization in his eyes. He knew. He was smart enough to put the pieces together. “He just showed up out of nowhere. I–I didn’t have a choice, I just somehow teleported there. He wants to see what this means, if this thing could even work,” she explained quietly, eyes shiny from the tears. 
It was clear that he wasn’t happy about it, but she could also see that he understood what was happening. “Talk to him. I don’t want to lose you because of something you have no control over. Let’s see what happens. If you want to be with him, I’ll accept it,” he told her. 
“But I don’t want to lose you, Max,” she pointed out. “That’s my biggest problem, because I’m torn between this and the feeling that maybe I shouldn’t miss out on my soulmate.”
He put his palm on her cheek and began to massage her skin as he watched her. “We’ll figure it out. Meet him, get to know him, but the moment there’s something more, something I should know about, tell me. Then we’ll discuss how to move on with this, okay?” 
“Okay. I love you,” she said, her voice laced with the emotions that were still there, and still strong. 
“I love you too,” he replied before giving her a kiss. 
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note: I wasn't entirely sure about this one, but hey, here we are, with my first story. Oops. I hope it's not that bad.
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Text
Crash Course
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Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3
word count: 822
pairing: Lando Norris x driver!reader
summary: Y/n returns to the paddock after recovering from her injuries, and Lando confronts her with his growing feelings
______________________________________________________________
The days following the crash were a blur for Y/n, filled with recovery sessions and endless interviews about the accident. The media buzzed with speculation, talking more about the rivalry between her and Lando than about the championship itself. Everyone wanted to know if the tension between them had reached a breaking point.
But Y/n couldn’t stop thinking about what Lando had said. His confession kept replaying in her mind, stirring something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel before. She kept pushing it aside, trying to focus on her recovery and the upcoming races, but it lingered in the back of her thoughts, persistent and confusing.
A few days later, Y/n was back at the paddock, still moving a little stiffly but determined to show everyone she was ready to race again. She walked through the garage, her team bustling around her, making sure everything was in place for the next practice session.
As she sat down to review some data, she felt a presence behind her before she heard the voice.
“Back so soon?” Lando’s voice was light, but she could hear the edge of concern behind it.
Y/n glanced over her shoulder, seeing him leaning casually against the wall, hands in his pockets. He looked relaxed, but his eyes were studying her closely, as if assessing whether she was really okay.
“Did you expect me to stay away?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I can’t let you have all the fun, can I?”
Lando smirked, pushing off the wall and walking closer. “Just making sure you’re not pushing yourself too hard.”
“I’m fine,” Y/n insisted, though the slight wince as she shifted in her seat betrayed her.
Lando noticed, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You sure about that?”
Y/n sighed, rolling her eyes. “You sound like my doctor.”
“Maybe I should be,” he teased, but there was an underlying sincerity in his tone. “Look, I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
Y/n paused, the playful banter between them losing its edge. There it was again—that concern, that softness. She wasn’t used to this version of Lando, and it made her feel off-balance.
“Why do you care so much?” she asked quietly, looking up at him.
Lando hesitated, his playful smile fading. He glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot before sitting down on the chair next to hers. “Because I meant what I said, Y/n. After the crash, when you almost collapsed… I realized how much I care. More than I probably should.”
Her heart skipped a beat, the air around them growing thick with tension. “Lando…”
“I know we’re rivals,” he continued, his voice low and serious. “And we’re both fighting for the championship, but… that doesn’t change how I feel.”
Y/n’s pulse quickened, her thoughts racing. This was happening—he was actually saying it, putting into words what had been unspoken between them for so long. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. How could she explain the way she felt, when she wasn’t even sure herself?
Seeing her hesitation, Lando sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I get it. This is complicated. And if you don’t feel the same way, we can forget it—”
“No,” Y/n interrupted, her voice firm. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “It’s not that. I just… I’ve been so focused on beating you, on proving I’m the best, that I didn’t stop to think about anything else.”
Lando’s eyes softened, a glimmer of hope flickering in his expression. “And now?”
Y/n looked at him, the weight of her feelings settling in her chest. “Now, I’m starting to realize there’s more to this than just the rivalry.”
For a moment, they sat in silence, the noise of the paddock fading into the background as they looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between them. The tension that had always existed between them was still there, but it had changed—shifted into something neither of them had expected.
Lando leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “So… what now?”
Y/n swallowed hard, her heart racing. She knew they couldn’t just flip a switch and change everything. They were still competitors, still fighting for the same title. But maybe—just maybe—they could be something more, too.
“I guess we see what happens,” she replied softly, her eyes locking with his.
Lando’s lips curled into a small smile. “I like the sound of that.”
Before they could say anything else, Y/n’s team called her over for a briefing. She stood up, feeling Lando’s eyes on her as she turned to leave. Just before she walked away, she glanced back at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
Maybe this wasn’t the end of their rivalry—but it could be the beginning of something else. Something that neither of them had been prepared for, but now seemed impossible to ignore.
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ssailormoonn · 2 days
Text
❛ REPUTATION ❜
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YANDERE!Chrollo Lucilfer X Fem!Reader
WC; 900+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW :: chrollo is a yandere here, well he def ats like one, fem!reader, virgin!reader, AGE GAP, gonna say reader is around 18-20 bc she a virgin and a good girl, chrollo is still 26, possessiveness, claiming + more
⋆·˚ ༘ * REQUEST :: (filled request) Hi! Could you please write with yandere Chrollo and virgin female reader(she likes him, but didn’t want to be with him because of his reputation) - ANON
HONEY'S A/NOTE :: I WAS FEELING DIFFERENT DONT MIND THE PINK/PEACH THEME LMAO, lmk if you like it tho 👀
m.list | hxh m.list
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You knew this was a mistake the moment you caught his eye.
Chrollo Lucilfer was the type of man who commanded attention. He's dark, unreadable, and dangerous. You'd been warned by friends, by acquaintances, by common sense to steer clear of him. None of them knew that he was the leader of the Phantom troupe, but they could tell that something was up with him.
You, on the other hand, knew very well who he was. He had made it loud and clear that should you ever leave or do anything rash, Chrollo was in a position to threaten you with all he could do. Every time being on duty with him, fear always boiled up inside your stomach.
But the fear that was evident within you, there was just something so irresistible about him, something that couldn't make you stay away no matter how much you did. Chrollo's presence causes your heart to beat in ways that it really shouldn't. You, however, because of his reputation, are to be kept from him.
But standing now in this darkened room, boxed in by his stare, one knew there was no more escaping Chrollo.
Not anymore.
"I know what you're thinking," his voice is like silk. "You're afraid of me, you think you can keep your distance because of what you've heard. But you forget one thing."
He leans in closer, each movement intentional. His dark eyes never left yours, staring with an intensity that would make you want to shrink under his gaze, at the same time you wouldn't be able to look away.
"You want me, too."
Your breath had caught in your throat. How could he know? You'd tried so hard to conceal it, to deny the pull you felt whenever you were near him. It was wrong, all wrong. But his tone made it sound as though you had no say in the matter.
"Chrollo, I... I can't." Your voice less than a whisper. "You're dangerous. I don't want to get involved in. whatever this is. whatever you do."
He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, and the touch sent your heart racing even faster. You suck in the air shakily while your lip trembled softly.
"I know that's hard to accept," he whispered, almost softly. "But I've made my decision already. You are mine. "
There was a finality in his words that dropped the bottom of your stomach into a sick feeling. This wasn't a silly love confession, this... this was more like he was claiming you. And much as you tried to deny it, the thought stirred something within you.
"Chrollo, I... I am not." You had managed to stammer out the words while a hot fire had burned in your cheeks.
How would you even explain that you have never been with anybody in your life? That part of you does want him, but the fear of his world and your inexperience holds you back? You have never done a relationship in your life, never kissed anyone, never touched anyone, never had sex.
His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze once more. Something... changed in his gaze.
"You're scared of what you don't know," he whispered. "That's okay. I can be patient. But don't you ever think otherwise. I will have you. Every piece of you."
His hand slid down, stroking your jawline, and a chill ran down your body. There was no hesitation in his touch, no doubt in his claim over you. It was terrifying and yet you enjoyed it.
"You can run from me if you want," he said, continuing now in a voice so much lower it terrified you. "But I'll find you. Always get what I want."
Your chest constricted as Chrollo left you no choice. He made it clear no matter what you did, he would find you and when he did. he would take you in every sense of the word.
"I. I don't want to be a part of your world," you finally stammered out, beyond your shaking lips. "I can't."
He chuckled low and it was a shiver you felt run over your skin under his touch. "It doesn't matter. You're already a part of it. The moment I laid eyes on you, it was over. For both of us."
You opened your mouth to protest, but the words died in your throat as he leaned in, his lips caressing the shell of your ear.
"Accept it, love," he whispered. "You can't get away from me. Not now, not ever." "N-" Chrollo cut you off, his lips trailing up your neck, his voice low, humming against your skin. "You don't struggle against me. I'm going to take care of you. No one else can have you now. Can't you see? You're already mine, and nothing you say will change that."
His breathing was hot against your skin, the weakness rising inside you as the fear coiled in your body. But despite that, despite all you knew of him, the fact that he wanted you with such intent sent your heart racing within your chest.
Honestly, could you resist?
He drew back just enough to look into your eyes, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. He knew. Your gaze betrayed your thoughts, and he noticed, of course he fucking noticed.
"You're mine," he leans down, his warm breath dancing across your ear as your hands clench into fists against his black suit, trembling. "And I will make sure you never forget it."
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Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.
m.list | hxh m.list
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albatris · 3 days
Text
Snippet Sunday!
this week we'll have some Quinn attempting to be sweet and nice
God, what to make? They weren’t a cook. They especially weren’t a cook next to someone like Nat. Why had they offered? Stupid, stupid, stupid. Quinn dug around in their fridge, hoping it would be the thought that counted. Maybe a stir-fry…?
They threw some fake chicken into a wok, alongside some carrots, onion and broccoli, and turned the heat to high. High meant it would cook faster, right? They didn’t want to keep him waiting too long.
They dug around in their pantry for some spices. What went in a stir-fry? Ginger, cumin… cinnamon? No garlic. Chili. Paprika? Quinn didn’t know what any of these were used for. And none of that would make a sauce. What went into a stir-fry that made it a sauce?
Oh, hell, the vegetables were burning. Quinn flitted back over to the wok and turned down the heat. Should they have put some oil in? They splashed in some avocado oil, and then a bit more. Maybe the oil and spices made the sauce? They chucked the spices in and mixed them around. Quinn tasted. Nope, not right.
In a sudden stroke of genius, Quinn typed ‘easy stir-fry recipe’ into their internet search bar with their free hand. Soy sauce. They needed soy sauce. Quinn poured in a generous dash, swirled it about. If that didn’t fix things, nothing would. They were too nervous to taste test it a second time.
He’d like it. He’d like it, wouldn’t he? At the very least, he’d be polite enough to pretend he liked it.
They let the stir-fry simmer for a few minutes, then dished some up into a bowl. To their dismay, their pulse was racing and they felt a little woozy. They slapped themself in the cheeks a few times, cursing themself for being so anxious. What the hell did they have to be anxious about?
They ventured down the hall to Nat’s room, only to find that he was passed out asleep already. Their bubbling nerves immediately turned to irritation, and Quinn quashed the feeling. This was probably for the best, and they were more than a little relieved, too. Their stir-fry most definitely sucked.
Quinn bumped into Alex back out in the living room, freshly clean and free of gore. It had taken its braids out and thoroughly washed its hair.
“Here,” Quinn said, holding out the bowl. “You can have this.” In its current condition, Alex probably wouldn’t be able to taste the difference between stir-fry and dirt anyway. At least it wouldn’t go to waste.
“Thank you?” Alex said, a question. “Did you cook this for Nat?”
“No,” Quinn said, their lip curled. “I just felt like cooking.”
“Sure.”
“I’m heading out,” Quinn said. “I’m going to Nat’s stupid apartment to feed his stupid cat.”
Alex took a bite of stir-fry. “Don’t do anything reckless,” it said around its mouthful. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“No relaxing, got it.”
Alex rolled its eyes at them.
“Try and rest,” Quinn said. “I'll help you with your hair later on tonight.”
“Oh, it’s fine. I don’t need help with it.”
“Would you like help with it? And doesn’t a scalp massage sound nice?”
Alex considered this. “Hm. Maybe.”
“The word you’re looking for is yes,” Quinn said. “Just let me look after you a bit, alright?”
“Alright,” Alex said. “This stir fry is awful, by the way. Even to my uncooperative tastebuds.”
“I didn't hear that.” Quinn hopped over to give Alex a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you soon!”
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yanderes-galore · 2 days
Note
Yandere Husk please
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The request for a Sinner darling was pretty much the plot I had for his concept... so I hope it's okay I combined the two :(? It would make more sense than me repeating myself.
@okchijt helped me out with this to make sure I got the character right and filled this with good ideas ^^
Yandere! Husker Concept
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective/Possessive behavior, Stalking, Drinking, Trauma, Emotional Manipulation, Clingy behavior, Murder briefly mentioned, Blood mention, Biting mention but not done, Scenting, Dubious relationship.
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For how moody Husk is most of the time, I imagine he'd care for his obsession very much.
It's said he lost the ability to love long ago... which he no doubt believes to be true for a long time.
Even when his obsession begins Husk would still be in denial of the idea.
There's no way he's feeling love towards another sinner here.
Yet here he is, worrying for you more than any other.
His obsession would be the most likely to occur with someone who's in the hotel.
So another sinner employed to help out the hotel or looking for redemption.
For the most part, Husk tends to stay out of the way and observe.
Most of his behavior is obviously cat-like.
Which means he'd keep his distance and watch you... just to see how you behave and what you're planning.
Husk's obsession is slow... gradual.
It's not like other yanderes who feel an immediate spark only for it to grow.
He watches you for a bit... Then slowly talks to you over a drink, then you become close.
His mood can put people off.
He's always drinking, always grumpy, apathetic, and gruff...
Yet he really does like to listen to people and help.
In that case... I can imagine one of your bonding times is opening up over a drink.
Maybe you're anxious about the hotel or some other thing.
The cat's good at listening... soothing your nerves with a drink and advice.
You'd swear he's the hotel's therapist more than the bartender.
However...
A good drink certainly would start a bond between you two.
Observant and empathetic... Husk would care for you once he shows some interest.
It's certainly not romantic immediately to him...
But it is a curiosity.
He's patient with you and often knows if you lie to him.
Which at first is revealed by something innocent... like you trying to hide some problem you have.
Yet that ability can turn sinister later on... like if he feels you're lying to him about something to distance yourself from him.
Husk is said to be sweet and protective of those he likes.
Naturally, as a fellow sinner in the hotel, Husk often keeps track of you.
He looks forward to sharing a drink with you or playing a game of cards.
You don't even have to trauma dump on him, he enjoys your casual conversation in his normally dull day.
He doesn't even realize he enjoys your company so much until someone, maybe Angel, points out he's purring when he sees you.
This would probably occur within a couple months.
You two often chat as you work and get along pretty well.
Better than he thought apparently if he's purring when he sees you.
He can't seem to help it...
You just stir something in him... It's familiar but... it can't be anything serious....
Husk is a subtle yandere for a couple reasons.
One reason is he's in denial of being in love for a long portion of his obsession.
He often tries to rationalize with himself that he just sees you platonically.
That he's just a shoulder to cry on....
Another reason is this... Even after he comes to the conclusion he does love you...
There's Alastor.
Husk's soul is still owned by Alastor, the radio demon is his master.
He can't show his love for you much as he fears Alastor will pick up on it.
The last thing Husk needs is causing you more stress because Alastor needs leverage against him.
Such a thought forces him to keep his obsession over you out of sight.
Both out of shame and fear.
Doesn't stop him from accidentally dropping hints, though.
When you two talk in private, or even in public and he lets his guard down too much, you can hear Husk purring around you.
He denies it the whole time, of course.
When alone, Husk tends to be more affectionate once he accepts he's in love.
However, he excuses it to try not to give himself away.
For example, if you're having a stressful day, he may hug you and start purring.
When you question him, he claims he's just trying to get you comfortable.
After all, did you know a cat's purr supposedly eases the mind?
In reality... He's trying to excuse his urge to touch you... just to keep up his facade.
So you'd just keep venting while he nuzzles into you to "cheer you up".
Apparently....
Husk is limited in his obsession.
Kidnapping and physical isolation would draw too much attention.
Alastor would definitely find out then.
Although... Emotional dependency and social isolation?
He can make that work.
In fact, making his darling dependent on him is core to his yandere tendencies.
It's easy since you already come to him for help anyways.
He wants to be the only one you're vulnerable around.
Husk wants you to seek him out for help, comfort, and company.
Perhaps even love eventually.
Making you dependent on him makes you his... Yet keeps Alastor out of it.
... Hopefully....
Because you vent to him, Husk knows nearly everything about you.
More than you know yourself sometimes.
While such secrets and info would be great blackmail... Husk wouldn't want to ruin your trust.
Instead he uses it to his advantage, a way to gain your favor.
He'd use the info he gained to help you.
He knows what you like, what you hate, what situations make you uncomfortable...
He's always around and ready to tug you out of a situation you hate.
He acts like such a caring friend, he's even protective of you.
Husk may actually leave his post at the bar to follow you and check on you.
He does some stalking but has to make it subtle.
If someone was messing with you or hurting you, Husk is quick to step in.
Considering how he handled those Loan Sharks in the show...
Safe to say you're in mostly good hands.
The only time he'd murder is if your life is in danger.
In that case... Surely you can ignore the blood in his fur?
Not like it's very new to you, though....
Hell's violent... Which is another reason Husk hates you wandering off alone.
While Husk is subtle... I can see him scenting his darling in secret as he nuzzles and purrs.
He may even be into biting you... leaving marks to show you're his...
Yet since he has to be subtle, he reigns in such urges.
Overall, Husk is a subtle protective yet possessive yandere who would make his obsession vulnerable and dependent on him.
This way, you're kept safe and cared for...
All his... even if you don't know it yet.
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afyrian · 1 day
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line three - lovely little detail m.list
    "i just can't get a handle on him," you lean against the employee lounge's counter, fingers clenching a small stir stick as it swirls around the contents of your mug.
  the creamer and sugar disappear into the dark cup of coffee, your mug feeling warm against your knuckles. biting your lip, you watch as sakusa talks to atsumu. there's an air to him, the way he stands with his arms crossed over his chest, a warm smile on his lips. while atsumu looks likes he's coming from the pits of hell, bags heavy underneath his eyes. 
  his late night talk show typically ended when yours started, giving the two of you to chat before he left for the day. and yet you had never seen sakusa with him, never smiling, joking about something you'd love to hear. "no, you just love a mystery," yachi exclaims, holding her tea close to her, the small paper tag resting off to the side. 
  "no-" you start, looking over at her, shaking your head, "no. he's a new coworker who won't talk much. you know how much bo- my old sound engineer talked. i miss it sometimes and it makes me more jittery in between calls," you shrug, pursing your lips in an attempt to come off as nonchalant. 
  "and him being attractive is what? just a lovely little detail," she rolls her eyes, smiling over at you as her eyebrows arch upwards.
  shaking your head, you look up at the station's old clock above the door. it has seen the test of time, but some of the managers like to say it's been there since the station opened. that it's there as a good luck symbol. the chipped glass and cobweb weaving between it and the ceiling would seem to differ though. 
  "don't you have some sewing to do?" you question, knowing you have just under ten minutes before you have to reconvene in your booth. 
  “don’t you have some sewing to do?” yachi mocks, grabbing a small packet of honey for her tea, “fine, you don’t want to admit it. but just know i do know the office’s code of conduct about employee relations and my lips are sealed.”
  bringing her index finger and thumb up to her lips, she runs it along her lips, flicking her index finger as they reach her cheek. her eyes move rapidly between you and sakusa, tilting her head slightly in his direction. before yachi can make it out the door to get back to work, she calls out to sakusa and atsumu. “you guys are coming to that celebration thing tonight, right? i’m trying to talk y/n into coming,” she smiles, knowing full well you never wanted to go. 
  “oh yeah, the twenty-fifth anniversary? i’m going to be late, but i think sakusa’s gonna be there early to help get some seats,” atsumu nods, knocking his knuckles against the table, letting out a short echo in the lounge.
  “really? y/n should join him, she always has good luck with those sorts of things,” yachi waves her hand, like it’s no big deal, and she’s not feeding you to the metaphorical wolves. 
  feeling your whole body go jittery, you want to blame it on the coffee in your hand, but you know better. the thought of something as daunting as sitting silently with sakusa, without your gear around you, is terrifying. “oh y/n, you should meet him down there, he’ll be getting there around five,” atsumu brings his hand up, hitting sakusa in the stomach. 
  “okay.. i’ll think about it, but we should get heading to the booth, get ready for the show,” you nod, running your finger around the rim of your mug, trying to change the subject and hopefully get back to work.
  getting to know sakusa and truly working with him sounds like a dream… but the way yachi is going about it sends your heart rate spiking. “i’m right behind you,” he mutters, following you out of the lounge, sliding past yachi as she looks over to atsumu with an odd expression.
  sakusa says something behind you, talking quieter than he expected he would, his long legs carrying him over to you. he scratches his eyebrow as he catches up to you, grimacing as you look back at him, “what’d you say?”
  “you don’t have to come tonight… sorry if atsumu made it seem like you have to,” sakusa shrugs, hands pushing into his jean pockets. 
  “oh no, it’s okay. yachi’s right, for some reason every time we go to a restaurant i have the impeccable luck of always having seats available. and with most of the crew coming, you’re probably gonna want you,” you smile, nodding as you talk.
  the slightly hidden humor in your voice brings a small smile to sakusa’s own face. “okay, that would be cool,” he mutters, following you into the booth, shutting the door behind him, “it’ll be at the restaurant and bar down by onigiri miya, atsumu’s brother’s restaurant.”
  “okay, i will see you there, sakusa. make sure to bring a good attitude and an affinity for bar food,” you point at him, suddenly feeling an air of confidence as you sit in your chair, the cushions feeling comfortable against your back. 
  nodding, he walks into the sound booth, hiding his face from you. pulling the microphone down to you, you pull your headphones on, smiling to yourself. watching as the timer counts down to when you’re starting. glancing towards the sound booth, his hand is up by his mouth, eyes adamant about staring down at his equipment.
  tapping the table with your finger, you wonder if possibly you’ve gotten through to him. if possibly you’ve broken the shell that he keeps himself hiding behind. as the clock ticks down to one, you take in a deep breath, “hello everyone and welcome to talk it out. today, before we begin our usual conversations, i have a bit of an announcement. it’s the stations twenty-fifth anniversary!” 
  a short cheering noise carries through your headphones as sakusa sets it off. “today between our talks, i’ll be giving some facts about the station and my time here. but that’s for when the time comes, line one, what would you like to talk it out about with me today?” 
taglist (open): @eggyrocks @causenessus @applepi25 @softpia @bakery-anon
@jadeoru @yessimo @lale-txt @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @sugacor3
@quikhs @todorokiskitten @mollyrolls @honeyfewr @pookiebearcave
@phoenix-eclipses @madiexuberant @kameyyy @cr4yolaas @asrichin
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muiitoloko · 1 day
Note
Lionel Smut? 🫣
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Title: Hard and Late
Summary: Lionel’s powerful thrusts and teasing comments make it clear he’s not in any rush to leave your bed, despite the important meeting he keeps mentioning. Caught between work and pleasure, Lionel shows you just how far he’ll go to make you come first.
Pairing: Lionel Shahbandar × Fem! Reader
Warnings: Smut
Author's Notes: Thank you so much for your order, I truly appreciate it! 😊
Also read on Ao3
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Lionel’s body was warm behind you, his chest rising and falling slowly as he breathed against the back of your neck. But the hard press of his morning wood against your ass was impossible to ignore. You stirred slightly, and the movement made Lionel groan softly, his hips instinctively pushing forward, grinding his arousal more firmly into you.
You were barely awake, but the sensation was enough to bring you out of your sleep, your body unconsciously responding by pushing back against him, nestling your ass against his hardness. Lionel felt it instantly. His breath hitched, and he could feel himself getting even harder, his cock throbbing with anticipation.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath, his baritone voice thick with arousal, barely a whisper against your skin. "You’re going to drive me mad, darling."
His hand, which had been resting lightly on your hip, slid down, his fingers brushing against the curve of your waist as he pressed himself harder against you. He wanted you to wake up, needed you to feel how badly he wanted you. His fingers dug into your skin as he ground his hips into you again, the thin fabric of your underwear doing little to hide the fact that you were starting to get wet.
You shifted again, letting out a sleepy murmur, still caught in that hazy place between sleep and consciousness. Lionel, however, was wide awake now, his mind racing with dirty thoughts of what he was going to do to you once you were fully awake. He could already feel his cock twitching with impatience, desperate for release. He had spent the night in your apartment—small, cluttered, and with a mattress that he swore had more springs poking him than he’d ever felt in his life. But he didn’t care. You, on the other hand, had slept like the dead, completely oblivious to his growing frustration.
“Wake up, love,” Lionel growled softly into your ear, his voice rough with desire. “I need you.”
You shifted again, a little more awake this time, and the moment your hips moved back against him, Lionel let out a low, guttural groan. His hand moved to your ass, giving it a possessive squeeze as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your neck.
“Christ, do you even know what you’re doing to me?” he whispered, his voice dripping with need. “I’ve been hard all bloody night, waiting for you to wake up.”
You let out a soft, breathless laugh, the sound turning into a quiet moan as Lionel’s hand slipped lower, his fingers brushing over the damp fabric between your legs. “Looks like you’ve been busy,” you teased, your voice still thick with sleep.
Lionel shifted slightly, his face contorting in mild annoyance as yet another spring from your mattress poked into his back. "Bloody hell," he muttered under his breath, making a mental note to get you a new mattress. The thought of buying a mattress for someone amused him. Of all the gifts he had lavished on women before—jewelry, designer clothes, expensive vacations—he had never once considered gifting a mattress. And yet, here he was, contemplating it, which made him chuckle softly to himself.
You would never accept it, though. Not you, the damn proud photographer. The one woman who seemed completely immune to his wealth. Lionel both loved and hated that about you. On one hand, your refusal to take anything from him was refreshing; it showed that you weren’t in this for his money. On the other hand, it drove him insane. He was used to women fawning over him, accepting his gifts with wide eyes and open arms. But you? You had your own money, your own success, and you didn’t seem to care for his riches at all.
Well, that, Lionel thought with a smirk, or you were an incredibly skilled actress. Either way, he tried not to dwell on it too much. Not when you were pressed against him like this, your ass grinding against his hard cock, your sleepy murmurs driving him wild.
His hand slid up from your waist to your breast, squeezing it possessively, feeling the soft weight of you in his palm. “You know,” he murmured in your ear, his voice a low, gravelly purr, “it wouldn’t kill you to invest in a better mattress, love. This one is absolute rubbish.”
You let out a soft sigh, shifting your hips slightly, pressing back into him again. “This mattress is fine,” you mumbled, still half asleep but clearly enjoying the attention he was giving you.
Lionel scoffed, his fingers pinching your nipple lightly as he leaned down to press a kiss against the nape of your neck. “Fine isn’t exactly the word I’d use,” he said, his voice dripping with playful disdain. “But if you’re comfortable sleeping on something that feels like a medieval torture device, who am I to judge?”
You groaned softly, both at his teasing words and the way his hand continued to knead your breast, his touch firm yet gentle. “Not everyone can afford the finest things in life, Lionel,” you said with a hint of sarcasm, but he could tell you were smiling.
He chuckled against your skin, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as his hand drifted lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear. “That’s where I come in, darling,” he purred, his fingers teasing the soft, wet heat between your legs. “Let me spoil you a little... maybe then I can spoil myself with you.”
You shivered at his words, your body arching back against him, the thin barrier of your underwear doing little to stop the rising heat between you. Lionel loved the way you responded to him, even if you pretended not to care. He knew exactly what buttons to push to make you melt.
His fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles over your clit, teasing you, making you gasp softly as he pressed himself harder against your ass, his cock twitching with anticipation. “I could make you feel so good, love,” Lionel whispered, his voice thick with lust as he kissed your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you tremble. “I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t care what mattress you’re on.”
You let out a breathless moan, your hand gripping his forearm as his fingers moved faster between your legs, your body already humming with pleasure. “Lionel…”
“Mmm, that’s it, darling,” Lionel growled, his hand tightening on your breast, his other fingers slipping inside you, feeling the wet heat of your arousal. “You know you want it… you always do.”
You bit your lip, your body betraying you as you pushed back against him again, grinding against his cock. Lionel grinned, knowing he had you right where he wanted. His fingers pumped in and out of you, his palm rubbing against your clit, drawing soft whimpers from your lips. “Say it,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding. “Tell me you want me.”
Your breath hitched, and Lionel smirked as he felt you tighten around his fingers. “I want you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you gave in to him.
“Good girl,” Lionel growled, his fingers pulling out of you just long enough to flip you onto your back, his body moving on top of yours in one fluid motion. His knee pushed your legs apart as he settled between them, his cock pressing insistently against your entrance. “Now, let’s see if I can make you forget about that bloody mattress.”
Without another word, Lionel thrust into you, burying himself deep inside with one powerful motion. You cried out, your back arching as he filled you, his body pressing you into the mattress, making you feel every inch of him.
“Fuck, you feel incredible,” Lionel groaned, his hips moving in slow, deep strokes, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. “So tight… so perfect.”
Your nails dug into his shoulders, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming harder, more demanding. “Lionel…”
“That’s it, love,” he growled, his lips crashing down on yours as he fucked you harder, his hips slamming against yours with each thrust. “You’re mine… all fucking mine.”
The room filled with the sound of your ragged breathing, the wet slide of his cock moving in and out of you, and Lionel’s low, guttural groans as he lost himself in the pleasure of having you beneath him. He loved the way you responded to him, the way your body gave in to every command, every touch.
“Come for me,” Lionel whispered, his hand slipping between your bodies to rub your clit, his fingers moving in quick, precise circles. “I want to feel you come around my cock.”
Your body tightened in response, your hips bucking up against him as the pleasure built, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Lionel grinned, knowing exactly how to push you over, his hips slamming into yours with a force that left you breathless.
Lionel’s grip tightened as he shifted one of your legs over his shoulder, opening you up even more for him. The change in angle made you gasp, your hands clutching at his broad shoulders as his cock thrust deeper, harder into you. You bit your lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to escape. The last thing you needed was another complaint from your neighbors about the noise. They were already too familiar with Lionel’s visits, and while you adored him, you weren’t ready to move just yet, despite his many offers.
Lionel’s low chuckle rumbled against your skin as he noticed your efforts to stay quiet. “Trying to keep quiet for your neighbors, love?” he teased, his voice dripping with playful malice as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “I wouldn’t worry about them. If you scream loud enough, maybe they’ll just be jealous.”
You groaned softly, your nails digging into his back as you tried to focus, but Lionel wasn’t making it easy. Each thrust was deliberate, relentless, his cock filling you in a way that had your entire body trembling with the effort of staying silent.
“I’m serious, Lionel,” you whispered breathlessly, trying to keep your voice down. “I don’t want another noise complaint. They already warned me last time…”
Lionel’s eyes gleamed mischievously as he grinned down at you. “Let them complain,” he growled, his hips slamming into you with even more force, driving you into the mattress. “Maybe I’ll come down there and explain to them just how well I’m fucking you. Or better yet,” he smirked, “I’ll buy you a new place where you can scream as loud as you want.”
“Leo!” you gasped, both in pleasure and frustration as you tried to stay focused on the present. “I told you—I’m not moving. And I don’t want you buying me an apartment.”
He grinned down at you, his expression full of that cheeky arrogance you both loved and hated. “Ah, yes. The proud photographer, refusing my wealth,” he purred, his baritone voice teasingly mocking. “I still remember the look on your face the first time I walked into this shoebox. You were so bloody defensive, darling, as if I’d never seen a place like this.”
You rolled your eyes at Lionel, his arrogance as infuriating as it was attractive. “Just shut up and fuck me,” you muttered, your voice dripping with impatience. You knew that cheeky grin of his would only grow wider at your words, but you couldn’t care less right now. All you needed was him.
Lionel, always one to rise to a challenge, didn’t reject your command. In one swift motion, he pulled out of you, flipping you onto your stomach, his strong hands guiding your hips up as he positioned you on your knees. “As you wish, love,” he growled, his voice low and rough with lust.
The next moment, he thrust back into you, his cock sliding deep inside with a force that had you gasping, your body arching into him instinctively. His grip on your hips tightened as he began to move, each thrust hard and deliberate, the sounds of your bodies colliding filling the room.
You bit down on the pillow in front of you, desperate to keep quiet, but Lionel, of course, noticed. He let out a low, amused chuckle, his hips snapping forward with even more intensity. “Trying to stay quiet again, darling?” he teased, his breath hot against your ear. “Go on then, bite that pillow. I want to hear those muffled little moans while I fuck you.”
Your fingers dug into the sheets as he drove into you relentlessly, the feeling of him filling you, stretching you, making it impossible to think about anything else. Your body rocked with each powerful thrust, your back arching further as you tried to brace yourself against the pleasure that was quickly overwhelming you.
But Lionel, ever the calculating man, glanced at the clock on the bedside table, a flicker of impatience crossing his face. He growled under his breath. “Bloody hell, I’ve got to hurry…” He knew he had to be at work soon and still needed to stop by his house to change into a suit. But the thought of leaving you like this, half-fucked and wanting more, was simply not an option.
With renewed urgency, Lionel quickened his pace, thrusting into you harder, his hips slamming against yours as he chased his release. His hands slid up your back, pushing you further into the mattress, your ass still high in the air as he fucked you from behind.
“You’re going to make me late for work, love,” Lionel muttered between gritted teeth, his voice rough and thick with arousal. “But I don’t care. You feel too fucking good like this.” He grinned, his cheeky side never fully disappearing even in the heat of the moment. “I should be on my way by now, but here I am, buried inside you, watching you fall apart under me.”
You moaned into the pillow, your body trembling with pleasure as Lionel’s cock pounded into you, every thrust sending waves of heat through your core. His grip on your hips was bruising, possessive, and you loved every second of it.
Lionel groaned, his control slipping as he felt himself getting closer. “You love this, don’t you?” he growled, his voice laced with satisfaction as he watched you arch into him, biting the pillow to stay quiet. “You love being fucked by me, even when I’m in a rush. You love knowing that I’d rather be late than leave this beautiful body unsatisfied.”
His words only pushed you closer to the edge, your body responding to his every command, every thrust. You felt his hand slide down your spine, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you back against him, his cock hitting deeper, harder.
“Come for me,” Lionel growled, his voice low and commanding. “I want to feel you come around my cock before I leave. Make me late for work, love. Show me how much you need it.”
His words were your undoing. With a muffled cry, you came, your body shaking as the pleasure crashed over you, your walls tightening around him as you reached your peak. Lionel let out a deep, guttural groan, his own release following closely behind. He thrust into you one last time, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you with every drop of his cum.
For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing, the heat between your bodies still lingering in the air. Lionel chuckled softly, his hand brushing over the small of your back as he pulled out of you.
“Well,” he said, his voice low and satisfied, “that was worth being late for.”
You looked over your shoulder, still catching your breath, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you lazily watched Lionel climb off the bed. Your body felt deliciously spent, your muscles humming with the aftershocks of your recent release. “I didn’t know even the boss had a specific time to arrive at work,” you teased, your voice thick with amusement as you settled deeper into the worn mattress, stifling a yawn.
Lionel shot you a cheeky grin, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that infuriatingly charming way that always made your stomach flip. "I usually don’t," he said, standing tall as he peeled off his underwear and let them drop carelessly to the floor. His broad shoulders flexed as he stretched, giving you a view of his body before he sauntered toward the bathroom. "But today," he continued, his baritone voice echoing off the walls, "I’ve got an important meeting I can’t exactly miss."
You hummed in response, though your mind was already drifting back to the half-asleep haze you were in before he woke you up. The warm, post-sex lethargy pulled you back under, and you barely listened to him as he turned on the shower, the sound of running water filling the room. He rambled on, something about mergers, investors, and making sure everything went off without a hitch, but you were only half-awake, not that Lionel seemed to mind.
"Of course, I don’t mind being late," he continued from the bathroom, his voice carrying over the sound of the water. You could imagine him standing under the shower, water streaming over his body as he spoke, always the confident tycoon, always in control. "But today? Even I can’t charm my way out of this one."
You smirked, snuggling back into the mattress, though a slight grimace crossed your face. Damn it, Lionel was right—the springs were poking you in all the wrong places again. The thought of your conversation earlier made you chuckle. Maybe it really was time to replace this medieval contraption.
The sound of Lionel moving around in the bathroom brought you back to the present, though your eyes were already fluttering shut again. You could hear him splashing the water around, the rhythmic slap of his hand against the shower tile as he braced himself, likely going over the details of his day with his usual intensity. You stretched out on the bed, letting out a soft groan as your muscles ached pleasantly.
Lionel emerged a few minutes later, toweling off his wet hair, his body still glistening as he walked toward the dresser to grab his clothes. His eyes flicked over to you with a mischievous grin as he caught you drifting off again. “Don’t get too comfortable, love. That mattress isn’t going to make things easier for you.”
"Mm-hmm," you mumbled, barely coherent, but you couldn’t help the amused smile that curled on your lips. "We’ll see about that."
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powderpinkandsweeet · 8 hours
Text
Abby x Reader
Some sfw hurt comfort since I was craving it. Unoriginal but we ball. Abby keeps getting held up at work, missing date nights and coming home at all hours of the night, and you’re getting sick of it.
The waitress had refilled your glass three times now, and the wine stopped burning on the way down by now. Abby was late. Over an hour late, but it felt like so much longer. Each minute going by slower than the last, especially with the repeated visits from your over-attentive waitress. 'Abby oughta learn something about attentiveness from her' you joked to yourself bitterly.
You tap your phone screen to check the time once again. Opening it, you see no notifications from Abby and your long string of worried texts.
5:25PM - Hey! I got us a table :) see you soon <3
5:37PM - Are you on your way yet? I can order you a drink
6:00PM - Everything okay?
6:10PM - Abbyyyy
6:11PM - Abby
6:35PM - Abigail.
6:45PM - Abigail Anderson.
You decided it was the last straw, and prodded her once more.
7:00PM - I'm so done. If you're not here in the next ten minutes I'm going home.
You practically threw your phone at the table, and crossed your arms to wait out the next ten minutes, just you and your fourth glass of wine. Ten minutes later, your glass is empty and you're flagging down the waitress for the check. You pretended not to notice the pitying look she gave you.
7:04 - I'm venmo requesting you for my drinks
You called an uber and steeped in your anger all the way home. Wine-drunk and pissed off, you kicked off your shoes and fell into bed, still dressed up with nowhere to go. Your phone buzzed, and you were on it immediately.
Abby, 7:30PM - Held up at work for a bit, check in just a sec
"Oh you've got to be kidding me," you blurt out loud, "you didn't even read them, did you?" you called to the empty room.
You, 7:31PM - cool, have so much fun
Abby, 7:40PM - ???
Abby, 7:52PM - We were getting drinks tonight?? Where at? I can still meet you there if you give me just a bit.
You: 7:53PM - Dinner, not drinks. Made a reservation 3 weeks ago and sent you the invite. It's on the calendar on the fridge."
You: 7:54PM - And don't bother, I'm already home.
Your message was read instantly, but you couldn't see the three dots so you knew Abby wasn't typing.
'You fucked up. Fucked up real bad this time' Abby thought to herself as she grabbed a bouquet of grocery store flowers and a tub of ice cream from the passenger seat of her car. She took deep breaths as she climbed the steps to your shared home. After the door locked behind her and she'd toed off her shoes, Abby checked her phone for the time, '8:48PM.' "Fuck..." she whispered under her breath. Hours late for your date, and it took her far too long to get out of the office, pick up the flowers and ice cream, bear through Seattle traffic, and make it home to you.
The lights were out and the house was silent as she made her way to your bedroom. She saw you through the partially opened door, flopped face down in the bed, wearing a dress and stockings that were far too formal for bedtime. Maybe it was a little too late for flowers and ice cream. Abby pushed the door open, and it gave her away as the hinges creaked.
You stirred, tiredly lifting your head to turn and glare at Abby. She had to hold in a wince at the two tracks of mascara down your cheeks. You didn't seem excited to see her, rewarding her presence only with a "hmph" and dropping your head back onto the bed. Muffled, she could barely make out your complaint of "bout time you showed up." She held in a chuckle at your stubbornness, knowing it would only get her in more trouble. It didn’t help that you were so cute when you’re angry.
Abby sighed and started to peel her blazer from her broad shoulders, "I know I'm late, I didn't mean to let this happen. You know I hate disappointing you, honey."
You sat up quickly, "oh don't you honey me, Abigail."
"Mhm, so we're using government names now?"
"Yep," you quickly replied.
Abby called out for you with a pleading tone, "Listen, I'm sorry. I got wrapped up at work and-"
"They needed you, yes, I know," you looked her straight in the eyes, "we've been here before, Abby, but it never changes. No matter how many times you say sorry, it's not worth much unless you actually change the action you keep being sorry for."
"Baby, you know I never want to disappoint you."
You sat upright and threw your hands in the air, “then stop doing it! Yeah okay your job needs you, but I need you too. I don't think it's selfish of me to want one night alone with the woman who claims she loves me.”
Abby stepped closer to you and pointed an accusing finger in your direction. “Don’t. Don’t say that, you know I love you more than anything.”
"Then act like it!" you sob, "because sometimes it feels like you love your job more. Because this isn't the first time, Abby, and it obviously won't be the last." You had realized right when you said them that your words were too harsh, and choked on your next breath.
Abby was hurt but overcome with shame at the realization that she’d been hurting you consistently. For you to feel second to her hit her like a ton of bricks. Abby sat beside you on the bed, leaning forward with her head in her hands. After a heavy sigh, she looked up to meet your eyes, "how long did you wait at the restaurant for?"
You chuckled humorlessly, "psh... nearly an hour and a half."
"I see... well you look really pretty if that's worth anything."
"Ha! You should have seen me two hours ago when my mascara wasn't on my chin."
Abby smiled. Even though it was sarcastic, you still kept your humor, and that was a good sign. "Well, I think the mascara tracks bring the whole look together."
You chuckled again, "you really think so?"
She smiled wider, dimples showing on her cheeks. "You look gorgeous, sweetie. Now come on, up up, gotta get you ready for bed." Abby gave your wrist a gentle tug, but you groaned and remained firmly in place. Your many glasses of wine must have caught up to you. Sliding her arms under your limp frame, Abby lifted you from the bed and carried you to the en suite bathroom.
You sat on toilet lid as she ran a hot bubble bath. While the tub filled, Abby grabbed makeup wipes from your drawer and set to cleaning you up. She held your chin gently with one hand and wiped the smeared makeup from your eyes and cheeks. You had relaxed into her touch and let your eyes slip closed while she wiped them, being drawn from your reverie by a kiss on the nose. "There, all clean. Lets get you in the bath now."
After you had submerged your aching muscles in the water, you looked up at Abby expectantly. "Need anything else, princess?"
"I need you to come sit in the bath with me."
Abby couldn't stifle a laugh, making out through chuckles, "baby, I'd hardly fit in there, plus there's too much water in it right now. It'll overflow if I try to get in there with you."
You pouted and looked away at her refusal. After a moment, you pulled the plug from the bottom of the tub to lower the water. Abby smiled, thinking she must have earned back your favor if you were being this stubborn for her company. She couldn't resist when you looked up at her and plead "I just wanna be close to you." Abby's heart thumped in her chest at you admission, so she undressed.
She was right that the bath would overflow, even after you had drained a few inches of water. But it didn't matter when you were snug between Abby's spread legs, back pressed to her front and your head resting against her shoulder. Her fingers scratched at your scalp and played with her hair as she hummed. You melted into her gentle touch, content. All you had wanted was her time, and her presence.
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snakesandferns · 2 days
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Transformers:One spoilers
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This was how that scene went…right? RIGHT?
This is kinda shit but I also made it at 11 at night, seething after watching tf:one. Maybe I’ll revolt with the polished product. I hear so many people praising it, and a lot of it was deserved, but imo Megatrons character arc was both rushed, which, yeah, it’s a movie they only have so much time, and handled poorly. especially with how they try and paint his anger as wrong, because it wasn’t.
He had every right to be angry, and to want to kill the guy who had ordered mutilation on him and his peers, who had lied to them for his own gain, and was actively working against their people to keep himself in power. I can’t imagine feeling any different in that scenario.
I feel as though every action of his, up until the very end when he lets Orion go, was justified. And I’m saying that as a Grade A Megatron Hater. Ever since I was a kid I have hated a lot of his actions simply because the means of what he’s doing never justify his ends. That he goes too far. But in this iteration of him, to make him go too far, they warp his character without any explanation. Like, he clearly cares for Orion, despite everything, but suddenly he just is so tired of him he’ll let him die? He’s so sad and in shock over Orion trying to stop him that he tells him he’s not picking up his slack anymore? Hello? they give traits that are traditionally Megatron’s, with his ability to call others to action and rally them behind him, to Orion. They set him up to be the person who follows Orion, who is mild mannered, who doesn’t want to stir trouble, and they erase it completely after the first half. It felt like two separate characters. Overall, his arc was chunky at best, and it felt like they just made him a stereotypical villain. Like, I genuinely thought he was possessed or something, that that was going to be the twist, but no. He really did just go from crying over what he did to Orion to dropping him in the pit. And what was the thing going on with his eyes?
But other than that, I really enjoyed the movie. Don’t take this as me ragging on it and saying it’s terrible. It was really good. I just feel as though megatron was handled poorly. Like, even tfp gave him a bit of nuance, a bit of slack. As a kid I questioned his motivations and how op and him came from different backgrounds and how things on Cybertron were actually like. Honestly, I just feel as though him accidentally slipping or Orion being the one to let go(cause he’s fucking dying) would have fit better and smoothed the jerkiness of the character arc, and made the following scene more meaningful, because now Megatron’s avenging his friend as well as his people. But yeah, I’ll stop now lol. Watch transformers:one and form your own opinion, don’t let me ruin ur fun. It’s still an amazing movie, and visually beautiful!
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lila-lou · 6 hours
Text
✨Rough around the edges - Pt. 3✨
Summary: Jack's day couldn’t have gotten any worse. Exhausted from a grueling shift under the scorching sun, he just wanted to crash at home with some wings and a football game. But his plans for a quiet night were shattered when the racket from his new neighbor echoed through the walls.
Pairing: Jack x Reader
Warnings: 18+ only! just a little smutty, Language, age gap, angst, violence
Word Count: 6085
A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. ��✨
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“Look… if you ever need anything”, Jack began, his voice quieter now, almost unsure, “you know where to find me. I mean, we live right across from each other, so… just knock”.
You blinked in surprise, not expecting the offer, but you smiled warmly. “I’ll keep that in mind, Jack. Thanks”.
As you disappeared inside, Jack let out a slow breath, leaning back in his seat. He wasn’t sure what to make of it all—the conversation, the connection, the way you had made him feel a little less closed off. He hadn’t expected to find himself here, feeling… something again. But there it was, stirring quietly beneath the surface.
Eventually, with a shake of his head, Jack turned off the truck’s engine and stepped out into the cool night air. He locked the truck behind him and made his way toward the entrance of the building, his boots echoing softly on the pavement. The conversation he’d had with you lingered in his mind, uncomfortably and yet pleasantly. He hadn’t planned on opening up, hadn’t expected to feel anything tonight other than his usual exhaustion, but somehow you had broken through his defenses without even trying.
As he reached the door, he paused for a moment, looking up at the soft glow of the apartment windows above. Your apartment was only a few feet away from his, and knowing that made everything feel strangely closer, more intimate. He had always been a man of habit—quiet, keeping to himself—but tonight had shifted something. He wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad yet.
Jack trudged up the stairs and down the hallway toward his apartment, his mind still tangled in thoughts of you. He had spent so long shutting people out, letting the hurt and bitterness from his past fester, that he had forgotten what it was like to have a real connection with someone. And while it hadn’t been anything profound tonight, just a shared car ride and some honest conversation, it had still shaken something loose in him.
Reaching his door, Jack unlocked it and stepped inside, the familiar stillness greeting him. He tossed his keys onto the counter, kicked off his boots, and leaned against the kitchen counter for a moment, staring into the dimly lit room. The silence that he usually found comforting now felt oddly heavy, as though it were pressing down on him, reminding him of just how alone he’d been.
He let out a long breath and rubbed his hand over his face. What the hell is happening to me? he thought. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way, wasn’t supposed to care. And yet, there it was—a growing awareness that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to keep living in his little bubble of solitude forever.
With a tired sigh, Jack grabbed a beer from the fridge, popped it open, and took a long drink. As he sat down on the worn-out couch, his mind kept circling back to you—your laugh, the way you looked at him with genuine interest, the way you had thanked him for a ride that he had felt compelled to offer. It was nothing, really. But it also felt like something.
Jack leaned his head back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. He had no idea where things were going with you—if anywhere—but for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel like shutting the door completely.
And that was enough for tonight.
In your apartment, the buzz from the night had started to catch up with you. The warmth from the drinks and the lingering scent of Jack’s cologne seemed to ignite something in you, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. After a few moments of stumbling around your bedroom, you began to strip off your clothes, leaving only your panties on.
The sensation of the fabric clinging to you was damp and uncomfortable, and you realized it was more than just the cold. The remnants of the night and the proximity to Jack had stirred something inside you, something physical and undeniable. The combination of his presence, his scent, and the intimacy of the conversation had left you feeling an unexpected longing.
You settled onto your bed, the cool sheets meeting your heated skin. Your thoughts drifted back, to the way Jack’s hand had steadied you, the deep timbre of his voice, and the faint, intoxicating scent of his cologne that had lingered on you. You hadn't been with anyone in months, and the desire that had sparked tonight was both startling and intense. The alcohol in your system made everything feel a bit more vivid, a bit more pressing.
As you lay there, trying to find some semblance of comfort, your mind replayed the moments from the truck—the casual way Jack had offered you a ride, the genuine concern in his voice, the unexpected connection you’d felt. Even in your tipsy state, you recognized that the attraction you felt was more than just physical. It was a mix of loneliness, desire, and the craving for something real.
You shifted restlessly, the fabric of your panties feeling almost restrictive. Your body ached for more, driven by the intimacy of the night and the raw, unfiltered emotions that came with it. The sense of isolation you had been trying to escape seemed to merge with the physical need you felt, making it all the more intense.
Your thoughts about Jack and the connection you felt were a heady mix of excitement and confusion. You hadn’t expected any of this to happen—hadn’t planned on feeling this way about him. But now, with the night stretching out before you and the warmth of his scent still clinging to you, it was hard to ignore the raw, primal feelings that had surfaced.
In the quiet of your room, with only the soft hum of city sounds coming through the window, you found yourself grappling with these newfound sensations, caught between the lingering effects of the evening and the deep-seated desires that had been stirred up.
As you lay there, the room felt quiet and intimate, a stark contrast to the bustling bar and the late-night conversation you’d shared with Jack. Your thoughts were a tangle of lingering attraction and physical need.
With a restless sigh, your hand found its way to your stomach, slowly slipping inside your panties. The sensation of your own touch sent a shiver through you, intensifying the feelings that had been simmering since your time in Jack’s truck. You were acutely aware of the dampness between your legs, a tangible reminder of the excitement that had built up during the evening.
As your fingers began to explore, you let out a soft, shaky breath. The gentle pressure you applied felt both comforting and electrifying, and you found yourself lost in the sensation. The contrast between the cool fabric of your panties and the warmth of your skin was a constant reminder of the physical desire that had been awakened.
Your mind wandered back to Jack—the way he had looked at you, the way his voice had sounded, the faint scent of his cologne. The combination of the physical sensations and the emotional undercurrents from the night made everything feel more intense, more urgent.
You continued to touch yourself, the movements slow and deliberate, driven by the lingering memory of Jack’s presence and the deep-seated need that had taken hold of you. Each caress and gentle pressure heightened your awareness of the feelings coursing through you, blending the physical pleasure with the emotional complexity of the evening.
The quiet of the night wrapped around you, making the moment feel intensely personal and private. As you continued, the feelings of arousal and longing became more pronounced.
As the intensity of your touch increased, your moans grew louder, the sound carrying through the quiet of your apartment. Unaware of how audible you were, you were completely immersed in the moment, your senses heightened by the alcohol and the lingering thoughts of Jack.
Meanwhile, Jack, unable to sleep and still winding down from the night, was sitting in his living room. He was idly scrolling through his phone with a beer in hand, trying to distract himself from the thoughts of you and the conversation you both had shared. The quiet of the night amplified the noises in the building, and it wasn't long before he heard the unmistakable sound of your moans coming through the wall.
His finger paused on the screen of his phone, and his breath hitched. The sound was soft but distinct, stirring something within him that he had been trying to suppress. For a moment, he sat frozen, the reality of what he was hearing sinking in. His heart raced, and a rush of unexpected emotions clouded his judgment.
The sounds from your apartment painted a vivid picture that Jack couldn’t ignore. He tried to focus on his phone, tried to pull his mind away from what was happening so nearby, but the sounds of your pleasure were insistent, pulling him deeper into a turmoil of arousal and confusion.
The part of him that wanted to stand up, to distance himself from the wall that was the only barrier between him and the source of those sounds, battled with the part that was captivated, drawn to the intimacy of the moment despite himself. Jack knew he should move away, go to another room, put on some music—anything to drown out the sounds that were all too clear and much too close.
But he remained seated, his body tense, his mind racing. The sounds of your moans mingled with the memories of the evening—the look in your eyes, the sound of your laugh, the way you had looked at him as you thanked him for the ride home.
Jack took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of thoughts whirling through his mind. His eyes closed for a moment, a futile attempt to shut out the auditory invasion that stirred him so deeply. But with each soft moan that filtered through the wall, Jack found himself less able to deny the attraction, the undeniable pull that he felt toward you.
As the realization settled in that he was not going to be able to ignore or escape the situation so easily, Jack set his phone down, his last attempt to distract himself abandoned. He sat there, listening, caught in the tension between his own loneliness and the unexpected connection that seemed to be taking root in the most unexpected of ways.
As the sounds from your apartment continued, Jack felt his resolve crumbling. The moans—soft yet insistent—penetrated through the walls, and despite his best efforts to focus on anything else, his body began to react involuntarily.
He shifted in his seat, the growing pressure in his jeans becoming uncomfortable. His breathing grew uneven as he tried to maintain control, but the sounds were relentless, stirring a deep-seated desire that he hadn’t anticipated. The reality of his own arousal hit him hard, a stark contrast to the internal struggle he’d been wrestling with since your chance encounter.
Jack’s hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white as he fought to keep his composure. The image of you, the warmth of the truck, the conversation—it all swirled together in a confusing blend of longing and regret.
Jack’s resolve continued to deteriorate as the sounds from your apartment grew more insistent. His breathing became ragged, and despite his best efforts to maintain control, he found himself unable to ignore the sensations building inside him. The pressure in his pants was becoming too uncomfortable to ignore, and as much as he fought it, his body was betraying him.
In a moment of weakness, his hand moved almost instinctively, unfastening the buckle and pulling down the zipper of his jeans. He tried to fight it, to regain some semblance of control, but the need was overpowering. His mind raced, torn between the escalating arousal and the guilt of what he was doing.
His hand, now trembling slightly, reached inside his jeans, feeling the heat of his own arousal.
Overwhelmed by the flood of emotions and physical responses, Jack finally succumbed to his urges. He pushed down his jeans and boxers, seeking relief from the intense pressure and heat that had built up within him. Alone in the dim light of his living room, Jack was torn between self-reproach for yielding to his desires and the undeniable relief that came with acknowledging them.
His actions were hurried, almost desperate, as he tried to quiet the turmoil swirling in his mind—the guilt, the loneliness, the undeniable attraction to someone so close yet so far in many ways. Each sound from across the wall seemed to amplify his actions, intertwining his reality with the imagined closeness of you, heightening his sense of isolation when he most craved connection.
As Jack began to move his hand, he closed his eyes, allowing his imagination to take over in an effort to distract from his inner turmoil. The sounds from your apartment—faint but unmistakable—fed into his fantasies, painting vivid scenes in his mind. He imagined you, just across the wall, caught in a similar moment of vulnerability and desire.
In his mind’s eye, Jack saw you lying in your bed, a mere echo of reality blending with his imagination, driven by the sounds that had inadvertently bridged the gap between your separate lives. He pictured the way you might arch your back, the soft sighs escape your lips, each detail adding to the intensity of his own actions.
The mental images served as both a balm and an accelerant, soothing his loneliness while simultaneously driving his desire to new heights. His movements became more deliberate, syncing with the rhythm of the muffled sounds that continued to filter through the walls, as if he and you were connected by more than just proximity, sharing a moment of escapism from the solitude that usually enveloped his nights.
As Jack’s hand moved rhythmically, the fantasy in his mind became almost tangible, blurring the lines between reality and imagination. The sounds from your apartment—the soft, intermittent noises that seemed almost in response to his own actions—intensified the experience. It felt as though you were not just a figment of his imagination but a real participant in this shared moment of vulnerability and release.
Jack’s breathing grew heavier, and his heart raced as he approached the edge. The fantasy of you, so vivid and detailed, pushed him closer to climax. The imagined sounds of your pleasure, the visual of your body responding in kind to his own actions, heightened his arousal to its peak.
Meanwhile, the faint but distinct rhythm of a bed, the soft moans that matched the intensity of Jack’s own breaths—everything pointed to a parallel journey you were undertaking behind the wall that separated you.
The isolation that typically enveloped Jack’s nights was momentarily lifted as he felt an intimate, though unspoken, connection with you. In this late hour, the walls of your apartments felt thinner than ever, as if the physical and emotional distance had collapsed under the weight of shared human needs and desires.
Finally, as Jack reached the brink, the intensity of his fantasy coupled with the real sounds from your apartment brought him to a powerful, almost overwhelming climax. As he came, his mind was filled with the image of you experiencing the same release, a thought that made his moment of solitude feel less lonely.
Another week passed, and the memory of that night had faded into the background, though it occasionally resurfaced in Jack’s mind during the quieter moments. He had kept himself busy with work, the usual routine of long hours and physical labor serving as a distraction from the thoughts that threatened to surface whenever he allowed his mind to wander.
It was Friday morning, and Jack stepped out of his apartment, coffee in hand and his work bag slung over his shoulder, ready to head to the site. Just as he closed his door, he heard the familiar creak of your door opening across the hall.
For the first time since that night at the bar, your eyes met.
You stepped outside, your face lighting up with a surprised smile when you saw him. There was an undeniable moment of recognition, though neither of you acknowledged it outright. It wasn’t just the memory of the bar, but something unspoken, lingering between you.
"Morning", you said casually, pulling your jacket tighter around you as you prepared to leave.
"Morning", Jack replied, his voice gruff as usual, though there was a slight hesitation in his tone. He hadn’t expected to run into you like this, not after the last week of keeping to himself.
The silence between you stretched out for a second longer than it should have, both of you standing there, caught in the awkwardness of the moment. It wasn’t the same as before; there was something new hanging between you two. Jack, for all his efforts to bury it, couldn’t shake the vivid memory of that night and the connection he had felt, however fleeting or imagined.
You cleared your throat, breaking the silence. “Heading to work?”.
Jack nodded, lifting his coffee cup as if to emphasize the early start to the day. “Yeah. You?”.
You smiled, glancing down the hall as you locked your door. “Running some errands before work. Got a busy day ahead”.
There was a brief pause, as though both of you were searching for something else to say. Jack shifted slightly, unsure if he should bring up the night at the bar or just let things continue as they were—neighborly, but distant.
"About the other night", you started, surprising Jack. He looked at you, his brow furrowing slightly.
"What about it?", he asked, trying to gauge where you were going with this.
You hesitated for a moment, then gave a small laugh, waving it off. "I just wanted to thank you again for the ride. I had a bit too much to drink, I guess".
Jack shrugged, though he felt something stir inside him. "It was nothing. Just looking out for a neighbor".
You gave him a warm smile, the kind that made Jack feel like maybe, just maybe, there was something more to this connection between you. But before either of you could say anything more, the moment passed, and you both turned toward the stairwell, ready to go about your day.
"Have a good one", you said over your shoulder as you walked ahead.
"You too", Jack replied, his voice quieter, as he watched you disappear around the corner.
As Jack made his way to his truck, he couldn’t help but think about the unspoken tension between you two, the way your eyes had lingered on his for just a second longer than necessary. Something had shifted, and while neither of you had acknowledged it directly, Jack knew that things might never be quite the same.
At work, the sun beat down relentlessly as Jack and Anthony labored over the foundation of the new construction site. The heat was oppressive, and it wasn’t even midday yet, sweat already pouring off them as they moved heavy equipment and mixed concrete. Jack wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, his shirt sticking to his back as he focused on the task at hand, trying to lose himself in the physical demands of the job.
Anthony, as usual, wasn’t one for silence. He shoved a wheelbarrow full of concrete into position and grinned over at Jack. “Man, this heat is brutal. Feels like I’m sweating out last weekend’s beer”.
Jack grunted, his mind elsewhere. Despite the distraction of work, he couldn’t completely shake the thoughts of his morning run-in with you. It had been such a simple interaction—just a few words exchanged as you both left the building—but it felt heavier, like there was more beneath the surface.
Anthony noticed Jack’s distant expression and raised an eyebrow. “Hey, you still with me, or are you lost in la-la land?”.
Jack shot him a sideways glance, shaking his head. “Just focused. This heat’ll kill us if we don’t pace ourselves”.
Anthony chuckled, though he wasn’t fooled by Jack’s attempt to deflect. “Yeah, sure. You’ve been off ever since we ran into your little neighbor last week at the bar. You finally make a move or what?”.
Jack groaned, grabbing a shovel to spread the concrete evenly. “I didn’t make a move, Anthony. We ran into each other this morning, that’s all”.
“Yeah? How’d that go?”, Anthony leaned on the handle of the wheelbarrow, clearly not letting the subject drop.
Jack hesitated, then shrugged, trying to make it seem like no big deal. “She thanked me for the ride home. That’s it”.
Anthony gave him a knowing look, shaking his head. “Man, I don’t know why you’re playing this all cool. You’ve been stuck in neutral for years. That girl’s giving you all the green lights, and you’re still sitting at the stop sign”.
Jack’s jaw tightened as he focused on his work, not wanting to dive into the conversation. Anthony wasn’t wrong, though. There was a tension between him and you, something unspoken that seemed to hang in the air every time he thought about you. But Jack wasn’t ready to confront whatever that was. Not yet, anyway.
“Look, I’m not getting involved with my neighbor”, Jack finally said, his tone firm but resigned. “Too complicated. Told you already”.
"You´re fucking afraid", Anthony chuckled.
Jack shot Anthony a sharp look, but his friend just grinned, clearly not backing down from his playful needling. Jack hated that Anthony was right—there was a part of him that was afraid to admit he was interested. It wasn’t just about you being his neighbor; it was everything that came with it. The messiness of relationships, the vulnerability, the risk of getting hurt again. Jack wasn’t sure if he had the energy or the will to go through that kind of emotional upheaval, even if there was something undeniably magnetic about you.
"I’m not afraid", Jack said gruffly, more to convince himself than Anthony.
Anthony wiped sweat from his brow, watching Jack closely. “Then what’s stopping you? Life’s too short to play it safe all the time, man. You’re gonna miss out on something good if you keep hiding behind excuses”.
Jack shook his head, frustrated, as he shoveled another pile of concrete. "It’s not that simple".
Anthony sighed, leaning on the shovel for a moment, his voice losing some of its teasing edge. "Jack, nothing's simple. You of all people know that. But you can’t just keep putting up walls. You’re stuck in neutral because you won’t let anyone in".
Jack stayed silent, his eyes fixed on the work in front of him. He didn’t want to admit how much Anthony’s words were hitting home. The truth was, Jack had been putting up walls for a long time, ever since his marriage fell apart. And every time he felt a connection—whether it was real or imagined—he’d push it down, shove it into a corner of his mind where he didn’t have to deal with it.
The thought of getting involved with you scared him because it was a risk. And Jack wasn’t sure if he was ready to gamble on something that could unravel him again.
But as the day wore on and the sun beat down, Jack couldn’t shake the image of you from his mind. The easy smile you’d given him that morning, the warmth in your eyes. There was something there, something real, and Jack was slowly realizing that pretending it wasn’t affecting him wasn’t going to work much longer.
Anthony finally broke the silence, his tone lighter again. “Well, you keep overthinking it, man. Meanwhile, I’m getting a beer after this and you’re welcome to join me if you want to stop brooding for a minute”.
Jack chuckled despite himself, shaking his head. "We’ll see".
Anthony grinned, sensing he’d made a small crack in Jack’s armor. “Good. You might need more than a beer to get out of your head, though”.
As they continued their work, Jack tried to focus, but the idea that maybe—just maybe—he didn’t need to keep his distance from you lingered in the back of his mind.
It was around 11 p.m. when Jack finally returned home from the bar, his footsteps a little slower than usual from the couple of beers he’d had with Anthony. The night air had cooled significantly, a stark contrast to the heat of the day. He reached into his pocket to fish out his keys, ready to call it a night, when something stopped him in his tracks.
Loud noises—thuds, crashes—came from your apartment. Jack froze, his instincts immediately on high alert. His hand gripped the key tightly as he stood still, listening closely. A second later, he heard what sounded like muffled screams, faint but unmistakable.
Jack’s blood ran cold.
He knew he should mind his own business, that you were an adult capable of handling your own life, but this was different. The sound of distress was too clear, too concerning. His hand moved from his door handle, and before he could talk himself out of it, he was crossing the hall toward your apartment, his heart pounding in his chest.
He stood at your door for a brief second, listening intently. Another crash, and this time, a louder, more desperate sound escaped from inside—something was definitely wrong. Without thinking, Jack banged his fist against the door.
“Hey! You alright in there?”, he shouted, his voice booming through the hallway.
There was no immediate answer, just more muffled noise. His pulse quickened, and he knocked harder, urgency taking over. “Y/N! Open the damn door!”.
Still no answer.
Without waiting for a response, Jack tried the door handle, fully prepared to break the door down if he had to. To his surprise, the door was unlocked, and it creaked open slightly. Jack pushed it open wider, stepping inside cautiously.
The apartment was dimly lit, but Jack could see signs of chaos—knocked-over furniture, papers scattered across the floor. His heart raced as he scanned the room, his eyes finally landing on you in the corner. You were struggling, your arms pinned, and a man loomed over you, his grip tight and menacing.
The sound of Jack entering the apartment caused the man to freeze, and he turned toward Jack with a snarl. Jack didn’t hesitate—his protective instincts kicked in immediately.
“Get off her!”, Jack barked, his voice low and dangerous as he stepped forward, ready to intervene. The man’s eyes widened for a split second, realizing he wasn’t alone, but he didn’t move. Jack took another step, his presence looming as he readied himself for whatever came next.
The man finally let go of you, shoving you aside roughly as he turned to face Jack. Without thinking, Jack lunged, grabbing the man by the collar and slamming him against the wall with enough force to make him grunt in pain.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing?”, Jack growled, his face inches from the man’s.
The man struggled, trying to push Jack off, but Jack was too strong, too furious to back down. He held the man in place, his fists clenched and every muscle in his body tense.
“Get the fuck out. Now! Before i loose my shit”, Jack demanded, his voice cold and hard.
For a moment, it seemed like the man might fight back, but he thought better of it. Jack’s grip loosened just enough for the man to stumble away, glaring as he straightened himself. Without another word, the man stormed toward the door, slamming it behind him as he left.
The room fell silent, the chaos and tension still thick in the air. Jack stood there for a moment, his heart still racing, before turning his attention to you. You were huddled on the floor, trembling and trying to catch your breath, your face a mix of fear and relief.
“Y/N”, Jack said softly, moving toward you carefully. “You okay?”.
You nodded shakily, though it was clear you were still in shock. Jack crouched down beside you, his protective instincts still in overdrive.
“Who was that? Do I need to call the cops?”, Jack asked, his voice gentle but firm.
You shook your head, your voice hoarse when you finally spoke. “No… no, he’s gone now. It was just… my ex. He wasn’t supposed to be here”.
Jack clenched his jaw, anger still simmering beneath the surface. “You’re sure you’re okay?”.
You nodded again, though your body language told a different story. Jack’s eyes softened as he reached out, offering you his hand.
“Come on, let’s get you out of here for a bit”, he said quietly. “You don’t have to stay here tonight”.
You hesitated for a moment, clearly shaken and unsure, but then you took Jack’s hand, letting him help you to your feet. As you stood, the dim light in the apartment revealed more than Jack had anticipated. His eyes immediately went to the bruises on your arms—faint but unmistakable fingerprints marking your skin. Worse still was the cut on your lower lip, swollen and fresh. Jack’s blood boiled all over again, the anger from moments ago threatening to resurface.
“Damn it”, Jack muttered under his breath, his hand tightening slightly around yours as he guided you toward the door. He could feel the tension in his muscles, the barely contained rage at the thought of what had just happened. He wanted to go after the guy, make sure he never came near you again, but for now, his priority was getting you out of there.
You noticed Jack’s reaction, your eyes flickering down to your arms, and you quickly pulled them away, crossing them in front of your chest defensively, as if trying to hide the evidence of the assault. “It’s fine”, you whispered, your voice trembling. “He’s gone. It’s over”.
Jack stopped just inside the doorway, turning to face you. "It’s not fine", he said firmly, his voice low but filled with concern. "Look at you".
Your eyes welled with tears, but you blinked them away quickly, unwilling to break down in front of him. "I’ll be okay. I just… I didn’t expect him to show up. I thought he was done. I didn’t think—". You stopped, your voice catching in your throat.
Jack stepped closer, his voice softer now. "You don’t have to explain. But you shouldn’t stay here tonight. Let me help, even if it’s just for tonight".
You stared at him for a moment, weighing the options in your head. You didn’t want to impose, didn’t want to seem weak or incapable. But the truth was, the fear still gripped you, and the thought of staying in your apartment, alone, after what had just happened, was unbearable.
"Okay", you finally said, your voice barely a whisper.
Jack nodded, relieved that you weren’t going to argue. He placed a steady hand on the small of your back and guided you out of the apartment. He made sure to lock your door behind you, not that it offered much comfort given what had just transpired.
"Let’s go to my place for now", Jack said, his voice calm and reassuring. "You can stay there tonight, and we’ll figure everything out in the morning".
You gave him a small nod, too tired and shaken to think about anything beyond the immediate moment.
As you stepped into Jack’s apartment, the warmth and quiet of the space enveloped you. It felt safe. Jack led you to the couch, gesturing for you to sit. "I’ll get you some water", he said, disappearing into the kitchen.
While he was gone, you sat on the couch, hugging your knees to your chest, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Your ex showing up had been a shock—a terrifying reminder of a chapter you thought you had closed. The bruises on your arms stung, but not nearly as much as the emotional weight of it all. You hadn’t wanted to seem weak, hadn’t wanted to involve anyone else, but Jack had been there. He had seen everything.
Jack returned with a glass of water and a first aid kit, setting them both down on the coffee table. “Drink”, he said gently, nodding toward the glass. “And let me take a look at your lip”.
You hesitated for a moment but then reached for the glass, taking a small sip. Jack knelt in front of you, opening the first aid kit and carefully taking out some antiseptic wipes. He met your eyes for a brief second, silently asking for permission before he gently dabbed the cut on your lip.
You winced slightly, but the pain was dulled by the tenderness in his actions.
"Sorry", Jack muttered softly. “I just want to make sure it doesn’t get worse”.
You nodded, grateful for his care despite the situation. For the first time in what felt like hours, you allowed yourself to relax, knowing that, at least for tonight, you didn’t have to handle this alone.
As Jack continued to clean up the cut, his brow furrowed with concentration, you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you. He had stepped in without hesitation, protected you without a second thought. And now, as he knelt there, carefully tending to your injuries, you realized just how much you needed that.
Jack continued his careful work, his hands steady as he cleaned the small wound on your lip. Despite the roughness of the situation, his touch was gentle, his eyes focused on making sure you were okay. You watched him, feeling a mix of emotions—gratitude, relief, and something else, something softer that you couldn’t quite name.
Once he finished, Jack stood and tossed the used antiseptic wipe into the trash, his movements deliberate, almost as if he was trying to keep his own emotions in check. He turned back to you, running a hand through his hair, the tension from earlier still etched into his features.
“You’ll be alright”, he said quietly, though it sounded more like he was reassuring himself than you. “But I’ll stay up, just in case”.
You looked up at him, surprised by his offer. “You don’t have to do that, Jack. You’ve already done more than enough”.
Jack shook his head. “I’m not going to sleep knowing he might come back”. His voice was firm but kind, leaving no room for argument.
You gave a small nod, feeling a weight lift slightly from your chest knowing that, for tonight, you weren’t alone. “Thank you”, you whispered, your voice filled with more emotion than you expected.
Jack gave you a small, almost imperceptible nod, his expression softening. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that. No one should”.
The weight of his words hung in the air for a moment, and you could feel the tension between you shift again. Jack wasn’t just saying these things out of obligation—there was something deeper, something protective and genuine. You’d always known him to be a bit gruff, a little distant, but tonight, you were seeing a different side of him. A side that cared, even when he didn’t say it outright.
———————————
A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰
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21 notes · View notes
lovezbrownies · 18 hours
Note
I’m on my knees begging you. Darling ends up lashing out at Gen because they are done with the pain she causes them and ends up going to Reina for comfort.
Defense. (Yandere!Military Chief x GN!Reader x Maid)
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Gen's Masterlist - General Masterlist
Synopsis: Sometimes, when you hurt a weak person so much, they tend to fight back.
Warnings: Gen. That's it, she is the warning. Abuse, and fighting.
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Morning sunlight seeped through the narrow window, illuminating the modest room where you awoke, feeling more like a shadow than a person. Beside you, Gen stirred, her form a reminder of the paradox that was your existence. In the light of day, she appeared serene, almost ethereal, but the truth behind her façade was far more complicated. You could hardly remember the last time you felt free, unencumbered by her volatile emotions and the chains of control that bound you. Gen’s affection was often as cold as it was hot, a confusing mix of tenderness and brutality that left you reeling.
You shifted slightly, trying not to wake her, though a part of you was desperate for her to remain asleep. It was in these quiet moments, when she was still, that you felt the weight of your despair most acutely. The memories of her softer moments—the laughter, the fleeting tenderness—would swirl in your mind, but they were always tainted by the sharp edge of her rage, which could erupt without warning. As you lay there, you couldn’t help but wonder how long you could endure this emotional tug-of-war, the constant oscillation between love and control.
The sound of her voice, sweet yet laced with something darker, pulled you from your thoughts. “Good morning, love,” Gen murmured, her eyes fluttering open to meet yours. The warmth in her gaze was intoxicating, but beneath it lay an undercurrent of possessiveness that made your skin crawl. “You look so tired. Did you sleep well?” Her concern felt more like an accusation, a reminder that your well-being was tied to her whims. You forced a smile, a hollow gesture that barely touched your eyes. “Just a little restless,” you replied, your voice shaking slightly.
Gen studied you, her gaze penetrating, as if she could peel back the layers of your carefully constructed facade. “Restlessness doesn’t suit you. You know I can help with that, right?” There was a subtle hint of lust in her words, a reminder that any defiance could lead to repercussions. You wanted to scream that you needed more than her twisted version of help, that you were suffocating under her grasp, but the fear of inciting her wrath held you captive. Instead, you nodded, feeling the chains of your reality tighten around you once more.
Days turned into a blur, and you found yourself caught in an unending cycle of Gen’s emotional outbursts. One moment she would be affectionate, wrapping you in her arms as if you were the only thing that mattered, and the next, she would lash out with words that sliced through you like daggers. You had grown accustomed to the shifting tides of her moods, but the toll it took on your psyche was unbearable. The pressure built like a coiled spring, and with every passing day, you felt more trapped, more desperate to escape the prison of your life.
One fateful evening, the tension reached a boiling point. Gen had returned from a meeting, her mood darkened by the weight of her position as Chief of Military and the idiocy of the rest of the Chiefs. You could feel the storm brewing long before she stepped through the door, her energy crackling in the air like a lightning bolt ready to strike. You had prepared yourself for it, but nothing could shield you from the inevitable confrontation. “What’s wrong with you today?” she snapped, her eyes flashing as they found you in the corner of the room. “You’re acting like a child. Are you hiding something from me?”
Your heart raced, and the familiar dread pooled in your stomach. “I’m not hiding anything, Gen,” you stammered, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. “I just—” But before you could finish, she stepped closer, her presence engulfing you, and the air felt thick with tension. “You think I don’t know when you’re lying?” she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. In that moment, the fragile threads of your restraint snapped.
“I can’t take this anymore!”
The words burst forth, a primal scream of frustration and anguish. You could feel the weight of your emotions crashing down like a tidal wave, overwhelming you in a way you had never experienced. “I’m tired of your games, Gen! I’m not your possession!” The room fell silent, your voice echoing off the walls like a haunting refrain. For a moment, you felt liberated, the release of truth washing over you, but the fear of her response loomed large.
Gen’s expression shifted from surprise to anger, her eyes darkening as she took a step back, visibly shocked by your outburst. “How dare you speak to me like that?” she spat, her voice cold and unyielding. “You think you can just throw a tantrum and face no consequences? You belong to me!” The venom in her words sent chills down your spine, and despite the defiance you had just shown, you felt a deep sense of dread settle over you.
“I-I belong to no one!” you yelled, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. With that, you turned and fled, the need to escape her presence overwhelming any rational thought. You raced down the hallway, your heart pounding in your chest, desperate to find solace in the only place you could—Reina’s quarters.
You burst into the small, dimly lit room that belonged to Reina, the maid who had become your secret confidante and sanctuary in this life of turmoil. The air was heavy with the scent of lavender, a calming balm in the storm of your emotions. When Reina looked up, her expression shifted from surprise to concern as she took in your disheveled state. Without a word, you rushed into her arms, the warmth of her embrace enveloping you like a cocoon, a safe harbor amidst the chaos.
“Oh, love,” Reina whispered, her voice soft and soothing as she held you close, allowing you to bury your face in the crook of her neck. The comfort of her presence washed over you, momentarily dulling the edges of your pain. “What happened?” she asked gently, her hands stroking your hair, grounding you in the moment. You clung to her as if your life depended on it, the tears you had been holding back spilling over as you let the floodgates open.
“It’s Gen,” you choked out between sobs. “I’m so tired of her hot and cold behavior. One moment she loves me, and the next, I’m nothing but a burden to her. I just snapped! I told her I couldn’t take it anymore, and I…” Your words tumbled out in a rush, the raw honesty of your feelings spilling forth in a torrent that felt both terrifying and liberating.
Reina held you tighter, her body radiating warmth and support. “You did what you had to do,” she murmured, her voice a balm to your frayed nerves. “You stood up for yourself, and that takes courage. I’m so proud of you.” Her words wrapped around you, filling the void of despair that had threatened to consume you. You wanted to believe her, to find strength in her support, but the lingering fear of Gen’s wrath gnawed at the edges of your mind.
“I’m so scared, Reina,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “What if she retaliates? What if she finds out about us?” The weight of your secret hung heavily between you, the knowledge that your love was forbidden casting a shadow over your fragile moment of solace. “We can’t be together like this. It’s too dangerous.”
Reina’s eyes softened, filled with empathy and understanding. “I know, love. But you have to remember that you’re not alone in this. I’m here for you, no matter what. We’ll find a way to navigate this together, just like we always have.” Her words were a promise, a reminder that in this dark world, there was still a flicker of hope, a connection that could not be extinguished by Gen’s control.
As you melted into her embrace, the warmth of her body against yours felt like a shield against the storm outside. In that moment, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable, to let go of the burdens you had carried for so long. You breathed in the scent of lavender, letting it fill your lungs, grounding yourself in the reality that for now, you were safe. But deep down, the shadow of Gen loomed large, a constant reminder that your love was a fragile thing, existing in a world that sought to tear it apart.
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lostsyren · 1 day
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ᯓ★ perfect a gold-digger!sofia concept
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{summary: what if sofia’s primary motive was to live the kook life? and what if rafe was her ticket to that dream?}
{a/n: it was fun to characterise sofia in a different way– i personally don’t think she’s a gold digger, so i added a bit of a softer spin to the concept! let me know what you think and what else you’d like to see from her or rafe’s characters!}
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𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 He was perfect. Massive house, flashy car, shiny watch– Rafe Cameron, the kook king of the Outer Banks.
Sofia initially admired from afar, it wasn’t hard to after all– Rafe was at the country club almost every day and being the club bartender meant she had front row seats to him. The way all eyes gravitated to his person everytime he entered a room, the hundred dollar bills he’d pull out as tips, the way everyone wanted to be his friend.
Sofia wanted that. Desperately. She’d moved from Mexico to the OBX a few months ago, with barely any money; the money she did have, she used to make a down payment of the small house she’d rented. After that, Sofia quickly learnt the lingo of locals. Kook, Pogue. The Cut, Figure 8. 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚
She was a Pogue and her house was on The Cut.
And the golden, glittering people at the club were Kooks and the sprawling white edifices were all on Figure 8.
Sofia burned with bitterness everytime one of those rich assholes bossed her around at work–
Two beers asap
Are you deaf? I said on the rocks
I’d like my bill today lady
But Rafe was different. He was…nice. He learnt her name– Miss Sofia he’d call her– and he’d always leave a generous tip. It just made Sofia more resolute– she wouldn’t stay a Pogue any longer.
“You going to Rafe’s party tomorrow?” She overheard a group of kook guys chatter at the bar. Her shift was nearly over, the sky dark already, and her body exhausted. But she perked up on hearing this.
“The one over at Tannyhill? Yeah I’m down.”
That night she was leaving work, trying to figure out how she’d get into that party as she headed to her car. But then it was like fate had thrust her towards the answer. There approaching her, way down the parking lot, was no other than Rafe Cameron.
Her heart soared in her chest. This was her chance.
They were moments away from crossing each other, Rafe locking eyes with her, throwing her a small half-smile.
Do it, she screamed at herself.
“Hi,” she greeted with a sweet smile.
“Hey,” he responded. Sofia could tell he was caught off guard but he still remained polite. Aside from when he ordered drinks, the two never talked. This was new territory for the both of them.
“I didn’t see you at the club today?”
“Yeah– I uh had some business to sort out.” Rafe stopped, taking the moment to talk with her.
She nodded enthusiastically, shining her big, bright eyes at him.
“You missed me huh?” He said with a smirk.
She was in.
“Of course, you’re my favourite customer.”
She watched him as he subtly eyed her.
“Well I guess I’ll see you then, bye Rafe.” She turned to walk to her car, her breath caught in her chest.
“Wait, wait. I’m having a party tomorrow at my house.”
She slowly turned around to face him, feigning unawareness, “oh…ok.”
“You should come by– if you’re free that is.”
“Yeah that’d be cool. What’s your address?”
Rafe raised his eyebrow as if he didn’t understand the questions, “Tannyhill?”
Sofia shook her head, to say she still didn’t know.
“Shit sorry, I keep forgetting that you’re not from here. Just give me your number and I’ll text it to you.”
And that’s how Sofia managed to be the girl on Rafe Cameron’s arm. It wasn’t hard to like him– he was charming, funny, not to mention handsome. She thought it’d be harder to get into his bed, after all she was a Pogue, a bartender– she was supposed to be invisible to him. But Rafe was surprisingly down. Desperate even. Like he was trying to distract himself from something.
Sofia’s heart sometimes stirred for the boy. But she reminded herself of what she truly wanted– this. The satin bedsheets, the crystal chandeliers, the ocean view.
She didn’t feel bad, or guilty– both her and Rafe’s ‘relationship’ was transactional. They both took things.
For her it was the fancy dinners he’d take her on and hefty tips he’d slide her at the bar and for him it was…company. Sofia realised Rafe Cameron was actually quite lonely.
So she played the part. It wasn’t hard. There was something vulnerable about Rafe that made her care. But she’d always quash it down knowing how messy feelings would be– she wasn’t loosing out on the lux and glitz of the kook life to something as trivial as heartbreak.
Sofia was currently taking a bath in the claw footed tub in the en-suite of Rafe’s bedroom at Tannyhill. Inhaling softly, eyes closed, she breathed in the lavender scent of the water, her hands skimming the iridescent bubbles on the surface.
It was late and after they’d messed around for a bit, Rafe had run her a bath.
Sofia sighed softly to herself thinking this wouldn’t be possible back home with her single shower with the shit water pressure.
A soft knock on the bathroom door interrupted her clouding thoughts.
“Hmn?” She hummed, blinking open her eyes.
“Can I come in?” Rafe asked, on the other side of the door.
“Yeah.”
He entered, Sofia smiling up at home from the bathtub. He’d gotten changed into some grey sweats and a T-shirt that pulled across his arms. Sofia wouldn’t have minded going for another round.
“What’s up?” She smiled, the water reaching her neck.
“Nothing– just wanted to talk to you about something.”
Her heart dropped into her stomach. Was he ending this? This…situationship?
“Hey, what’s wrong?” She simpered, her eyebrows furrowing in concern.
“That day–” he coughed clearing his throat, “that day on the balcony, after you stayed over, you gave me some advice– do you remember?”
Rafe approached Sofia, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, his body turned to face her. Her eyes trailed down to his fingers, the tips of them skimming the bubbly water.
That day on the balcony– that day he was acting…off. He’d been stressed out, terse. It had worried her.
Sofia nodded slowly, noticing how he avoided eye contact with her. “Yeah, what about it?”
“You really helped me that day…more than you know.” He mumbled.
Sofia lifted her hand out the water, locking her fingers with his, “Rafe– is everything ok?” She was seriously beginning to worry now, the feeling of care, that warm sticky emotion, worming its way inside her heart. When she felt like that she’d forget what this was– she’d forget how Rafe saw her as a fuck buddy, and she’d forget how she saw him as a gold mine. Instead she only saw him and how she wanted to help him feel better.
“Everything is fine. I uh just wanted to say thank you for that.”
She gave him a confused, lopsided smile, “you’re welcome?”
“Here I got something for you.” He let go of her hand, pulling out a small black box from his pocket, and giving it to her to open.
Sofia glanced at the box, then back up at him. He had a stupid smirk plastered across his face, the abashed look from before already faded.
“Rafe– you didn’t have to.” She said, internally thrumming with delight. Her fingers slowly opened the gift, revealing a thread of scintillating diamonds resting on black velvet, like stars in the night sky.
“Dios mio,” she breathed. It was beautiful.
“Here let me put it on you.”
“No don’t– I’m in the bath, I don’t want to ruin it.”
Rafe chuckled lowly, “Sof, they’re diamonds– they don’t get ruined.”
She didn’t even know what to respond to that, so she just grinned widely, letting out an excited laugh.
Rafe took out the spool of sparkles, standing up to walk behind her. He knelt down low, bringing the necklace onto her décolleté, Sofia jolting slightly at how cold it felt. She looked down to see the delicate metal rest prettily on her skin, the water lapping up to graze the diamonds.
“It’s so beautiful, thank you Rafe.” She gushed, turning her neck to face him.
“Don’t mention it,” he whispered into her ear, planting a kiss on her temple, peppering more kissed until he reached her lips. Sofia gasped against his mouth, savouring the sensation of the cold diamonds and his hot fingers trailing her neck.
Her broke the kiss, his eyes roving down her face to her chest, “I’ll let you finish your bath.” Rafe stood up, leaving the room.
Sofia felt conflicted. A diamond necklace? For a piece of advice? It felt like an unfair trade. But she quickly got over it when she saw the way they sparkled under the bathroom lights.
This was the life she wanted. And she would bask in it.
“Hurry up alright? I wanna see the necklace on you up close.” Rafe called from the room.
Sofia laughed, “gonna take my time now!” She called back, sinking into the water, closing her eyes once again.
Perfect. This was perfect.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
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acute-scary · 2 days
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Between the Ropes… a Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley fanfic.
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Chapter 18: and Away..
Jey sat on the edge of the bed, tucking Jeyce in tightly under the soft blanket adorned with dinosaurs. The night was quiet except for the sound of the shower running upstairs where his older son Jaciyah was finishing up. Jeyce's curls were still damp from the fun-filled day he’d had with his uncle Jon, Aunt Trinity, and his cousins, running wild on the water bouncy castle. The excitement of the day had finally worn him down, his little body tired but his mind still full of questions.
"Dad, today was the best," Jeyce said with a sleepy grin. "I love the bouncy castle! Uncle Jon said I was the fastest jumper!"
Jey chuckled, his heart swelling at the sight of his son’s joy. "Yeah? You were probably giving everyone a run for their money, huh? I'm glad you had a great time, buddy."
Jeyce wiggled a bit under his blanket, his eyes growing heavy, but his mind was still spinning with thoughts. "Dad... can I ask you something?"
"Of course, little man. What’s on your mind?" Jey asked, brushing a stray curl off his son’s forehead.
Jeyce paused for a moment, his face serious for such a young boy. "Is Rhea my bonus mommy?"
Jey felt a warmth spread through him at the question, his heart catching for just a moment. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he looked down at his son, who was gazing up at him with innocent curiosity. The thought of Rhea being seen as part of their family, especially through the eyes of his kids, made something deep in him stir—a feeling of peace, of hope, of a future he wanted more than anything.
"I'm working on it, Jeyce," Jey said softly, his voice full of quiet emotion. "I'm working on making her your bonus mommy."
Jeyce's smile widened, lighting up his face. "I hope she stays forever, Dad. I really like her."
Jey felt his throat tighten, emotion washing over him. He had to fight back the tears threatening to spill as his son’s words hit him straight in the heart. He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on Jeyce’s forehead.
"Me too, buddy. Me too."
With that, Jey watched as his son’s eyes finally fluttered closed, his breathing evening out as he drifted off into a peaceful sleep. Jey sat there for a few moments longer, the weight of his son's simple, heartfelt wish settling in his chest. He kissed Jeyce goodnight once more, stood up quietly, and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.
As Jey walked down the hallway, he spotted his eldest son, Jaciyah, exiting the bathroom. The steam from the shower still lingered in the air, and Jaciyah, towel draped over his shoulders, looked up at his dad, who was ready to wish him goodnight.
"Night, son," Jey said softly, his voice filled with the usual warmth of a father who’d spent a good day with his kids.
But Jaciyah stopped in his tracks, lifting his hand to halt his father. “Wait, Dad. Tell Rhea thank you for switching out the butter popcorn for the kettle popcorn... and for the extra Jolly Ranchers.” His words were simple, but the small gesture clearly meant something to him.
Without waiting for a reply, Jaciyah turned and headed into the room he shared with Jeyce, leaving Jey standing in the hallway with a smile tugging at his lips. It amazed him how Rhea had managed to weave her way into his children’s hearts with such ease.
Jey felt a flutter in his chest, a mix of pride, gratitude, and love swelling within him. His steps grew lighter as he walked to the guest bedroom, where Rhea was waiting. Pushing open the door softly, he found her curled up in the comforter, her dark hair splayed out over the pillows, the peaceful rise and fall of her breathing a soothing sight. Jey couldn’t help but smile, knowing how much this woman had come to mean to him.
Quietly, he undressed, slipping out of his clothes and climbing under the comforter. He shuffled closer to her, his body instinctively drawn to her warmth. Jey wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her shoulder softly.
"Did you enjoy the day?" he asked, his voice a low murmur in the dim light.
Rhea shifted slightly, her face still half-buried in the pillow as she let out a contented sigh. "Of course," she whispered back, her voice soft but full of happiness. "It was perfect."
Jey swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat as his mind wandered to the small gift he’d been waiting to give her. His heart pounded in his chest, loud enough that he wondered if she could hear it too. It was now or never. He couldn’t hold back any longer.
"Rhea..." Jey’s voice wavered slightly as he reached into the nightstand, his fingers brushing against the small box he had hidden there earlier. "I wanna give you something."
Rhea turned slightly, curious, her eyes meeting his in the dim light of the room. Jey pulled out the box but kept it closed for now, reaching in further to retrieve the necklace he’d stashed away. His hand shook just a little as he sat up, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He turned to face her, his eyes locking with hers, the love he felt for her written plainly across his face.
"I need you to know something," he began, his voice low and thick with emotion. "You mean everything to me. I’ve never felt like this before… the way you care for my boys, the way you care for me. I don’t know how to explain it… I just… I love you. So deeply."
Rhea’s eyes softened, her lips parting as though she wanted to say something, but Jey wasn’t finished.
He opened his hand slowly, revealing the delicate necklace that rested in his palm. The small pendant shimmered in the soft light, catching her attention. "This… it has the ashes of our baby. I wanted you to have it. To carry a part of them with you."
Rhea’s breath hitched in her throat, her eyes glistening as they locked on the necklace. Her hand trembled as she reached out to touch it, her fingers brushing the pendant with the gentlest of touches. A single tear slipped down her cheek as she looked up at him, her eyes full of emotion.
"Jey… I…" Her voice broke, but she didn’t need to finish. The look on her face said it all.
Jey leaned in and pressed his forehead against hers, his thumb gently wiping away her tear. "I love you," he whispered again, his voice barely audible. "I’ll always love you. And I’ll never forget them. Neither will you."
They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s presence, sharing the silent understanding of a love that ran deep and the shared grief they carried. The necklace glistened in the soft light, a symbol of both the loss they’d endured and the unbreakable bond they had forged through it all.
Jey's hands trembled slightly as he revealed the second piece he had kept hidden—a ring he had made for himself, containing the ashes of their unborn child. He looked down at it for a moment, the weight of the gesture hitting him all over again. Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet Rhea's, the love and sorrow mirrored between them.
"I wanted us both to carry the baby," Jey whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
"Forever."
Rhea's eyes filled with tears, her heart aching but so full of love for the man sitting before her.
Without another word, she leaned forward, cupping his face in her hands and kissing him with all the emotion she couldn't express through words. It was soft at first, a gentle meeting of their lips, but soon it deepened-full of longing, gratitude, and the unspoken grief they shared.
Jey kissed her back with the same intensity, feeling the warmth of her lips, her touch, and the connection they had always shared but that now felt even more profound. He could feel her tears mix with his own as their kiss broke momentarily, both of them breathing heavily, still wrapped up in each other.
Rhea rested her forehead against his, her lips brushing his as she whispered, "Jey, do you think... it's possible for us to be intimate tonight?"
Jey's eyes softened at her words, but there was concern lacing his expression. "Rhea, your ribs..." he began, his fingers lightly grazing the edges of her body as though afraid to hurt her.
Rhea smiled, her hands trailing down his chest, resting over his heart. "We'll go slow," she whispered, her voice filled with a quiet determination. "I want to feel close to you... I need you."
Jey hesitated for a moment, still worried about the bruises on her ribs and the trauma she had been through, but the way she looked at him— so full of love, of trust-made his resolve soften. He gave her a small nod, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from her face before gently pulling her on top of him. His fingers trailed down her back, resting lightly on her waist as she settled into his lap.
Rhea smiled at him, her eyes filled with tenderness as she slowly pulled her shirt over her head, revealing the stitches on her lower abdomen. Jey's heart tightened at the sight, the painful reminder of everything they had lost etched into her skin. He reached out and traced the stitches lightly, his touch reverent as though he was afraid to cause her more pain.
"You're beautiful," Jey murmured, his voice full of love and admiration. "You'll always be beautiful to me."
Rhea's breath hitched at his words, and she leaned down to kiss him, her lips soft against his as she whispered, "I want to stay beautiful for you, Jey. Always."
He kissed her back, pulling her closer, his hands sliding up her back as he held her. Every movement was careful, measured, but full of passion. Despite the bruises, despite the pain, they found comfort in each other, taking it slow, just as she had promised.
As Rhea shifted their positions, gently flipping them over, Jey found himself gazing down at her with a mixture of love, desire, and tenderness. He kissed her even more deeply, his lips capturing hers with a passion that left both of them breathless. Rhea responded eagerly, her hands tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer.
Between kisses, Jey murmured softly against her lips, "I love you… so much." Each word carried the weight of everything they had been through together-the love, the pain, the unspoken bond that had only grown stronger.
Feeling the intensity of the moment building, Jey reached to the nightstand where he kept the condoms, his fingers brushing the drawer.
But before he could grab one, Rhea gently placed her hand on his, stopping him. He paused, looking down at her with a mix of surprise and concern.
"Rhea… are you sure?" he asked softly, his voice thick with both longing and hesitation.
Rhea's eyes met his, filled with trust and something deeper—a desire to feel closer to him than ever before. "Just pull out," she whispered, her voice soft yet certain. "I want to feel all of you, Jey."
For a moment, Jey searched her face, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew this was a big step, but the way she looked at him-the love and vulnerability in her eyes—made his decision easy. He nodded, leaning down to kiss her again, his lips brushing against hers as he murmured, "Okay… if you're sure."
Rhea smiled softly, her hands sliding down his back as she pulled him closer. "I'm sure," she whispered against his lips, her voice filled with both love and anticipation. Jey kissed her again and he felt her push his boxer briefs down. Rhea adjusted her self to slide off her underwear, she was already wet with anticipation, the two had not been intimate in a while and it felt like the first time. Jey broke the kiss to suck on her sweet spot as his hand came up behind Rhea to unclasp her bra. Rhea moaned with ecstasy as her soft scratched his back, Jey nibbled on her neck as he felt that scratch of her fingernails. Jey made his way to her ears where he softly tugged at her and licked her lobe and she giggled, the little bites he would give her made the moment a bit more loving. "Is it bad that I miss your favorite position?" Jey said as he put his hand on her right breast to fondle with it as he kissed her neck softly.
"You know my... flexibility... we could do it again.." Rhea said as she felt Jey felt his member against her, he glanced at her and she smiled. Jey adjusted himself up a bit and Rhea flipped over, she lifted up her right leg and then her left and arched her back up very slightly. She moaned softly as he felt Jey rubbed his two fingers on her to make sure she was really wet and she sure was.. only for him. Jey positioned himself and he slowly entered Rhea. "Jey..." She gasped and Jey stopped, "Let me know when I can move.." He said and fuck he really wanted to move. Rhea took a couple of deep breaths and she slowly pushed into Jey. Jey looked down, he admired her tattoos, her beautiful behind, he believes this position got them in trouble.
"Jey....." She moaned as Jey picked up the pace more, he couldn't control his movements. Jey had his hands on her hips as he went deeper into her, he could see his member covered in her wetness as he pulled out and went back in. "Go harder.. fuck..." Rhea said as she fully let herself go to the man she was in love with. Jey pulled her hair as he let himself go and smacked her ass.
As they moved together, everything else seemed to fade away. It was just the two of them, their connection so strong that it felt like nothing could come between them. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word was a reminder of how deeply they loved each other how far they had come and how much they still had to look forward to. Their bodies in perfect sync as they shared this intimate moment. It wasn't just about physical closeness-it was about trust, love, and the promise that they would always be there for each other, no matter what.
The next morning, Rhea woke to the sound of her phone buzzing on the nightstand. Still half-asleep, she squinted at the screen, seeing an unfamiliar number but answered anyway.
"Hello?" she mumbled, her voice groggy from sleep.
"Hi, this is Stephanie from Wells Fargo. I’m calling to let you know that your loan has been paid off, and we’ll be mailing you the title to your car. You should receive it in 5 to 7 business days."
Rhea blinked, sitting up as the realization hit her. "Wait… the title to my car?"
"Yes," Stephanie confirmed. "Everything is all set. Have a great day!"
Rhea hung up the phone, staring blankly at the screen for a moment. How could she have forgotten about her car? It seemed absurd that something so simple had slipped her mind, but with everything that had happened recently, she wasn’t surprised. The trauma she’d gone through, losing the baby, the emotional toll, the constant worry—it had consumed her.
She sighed, feeling a bit stupid for letting such a basic thing slip through the cracks. But who could blame her? She had been through hell and back.
Rhea turned to look at Jey, who was still peacefully asleep beside her, his chest rising and falling with soft, steady breaths. Her heart swelled at the sight of him, his presence bringing her comfort. But then her mind drifted to a more pressing matter—the car itself. It was still at the house she had shared with Matt, a place she had no desire to return to.
The thought of stepping foot in that house again made her stomach turn. It was too soon. She wasn’t ready to face the memories, the pain, or the ghosts of what had happened there.
She bit her lip, unsure of how to ask, but she knew she had to. "Jey?" she whispered, gently nudging him awake.
Jey stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he turned to look at her, a sleepy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Morning, babe," he murmured, his voice still heavy with sleep.
Rhea returned the smile, but there was something weighing on her mind. "I need to ask you something," she said softly, her voice hesitant.
Jey immediately picked up on her tone and sat up, giving her his full attention. "What’s up?"
She swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. "Can you… retrieve my car? It’s still at the house I shared with Matt. I—I can’t go back there, Jey. I don’t think I’m ready. I just… I can’t face that place right now."
Jey’s expression softened as he took her hand, gently squeezing it. "Of course, I’ll get your car," he said without hesitation. "You don’t have to worry about that, Rhea. I’ll take care of everything."
Rhea let out a sigh of relief, her shoulders relaxing as the weight of her anxiety lifted slightly. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice full of gratitude.
Jey leaned in and kissed her forehead, his touch comforting. "You’ve been through enough," he said softly. "I don’t want you going back to that house unless you’re ready. I’ll go today and get your car, okay?"
Rhea nodded, feeling the familiar warmth of his love wrap around her like a blanket. "Okay," she whispered, her heart swelling with appreciation for the man by her side.
After Jey had showered and gotten dressed, he returned to the bedroom, asking Rhea, "Hey, where are your keys?"
Rhea looked up from her phone, smiling softly. "They’re in my purple suitcase," she said, pointing to where it sat at the foot of the bed.
Jey unzipped the suitcase, rifling through it until he found the keys. He straightened up and turned to Rhea, jingling them in his hand. "I’m gonna take Jon with me to get your car. We won’t be long."
Rhea nodded, a small wave of relief washing over her knowing Jey had it covered. "Thanks, babe," she said.
Jey walked over and kissed her goodbye, his lips lingering on hers for a moment before pulling away. "I’ll be back soon," he promised, giving her a reassuring smile before heading downstairs.
Jey descended the stairs, the smell of breakfast filled the air. He stepped into the kitchen to find Trinity at the stove, serving pancakes to Jon’s kids and his own. The scene was warm and comforting, a brief respite from the chaos that had marked their lives recently.
Jeyce, sitting at the table with his cousins, perked up when he saw his dad walk in. "Daddy!" he called out excitedly, his little face lighting up with a grin.
Jey couldn’t help but smile as he crossed the kitchen to kiss his son on the head. He then ruffled his older son Jaciyah’s hair, who tried to act like he wasn’t as thrilled, but Jey caught the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Where’s Jon at?" Jey asked Trinity as he glanced around the kitchen.
Trinity poured more orange juice into a glass and replied, "He’s in the gym, working out. You know him—couldn’t skip leg day even if the world was ending."
Jey chuckled, shaking his head. "Of course."
Just then, Jeyce piped up again, his big eyes wide with excitement. "Dad, are you and Rhea gonna come to the Science Center with us today?"
Jey raised an eyebrow and glanced at Trinity. "Science Center?" he asked, curious.
Trinity smiled at Jeyce, then turned to Jey. "Yeah, we’re taking the kids to the Science Center later. But I’m not sure if Rhea’s up for it after everything. She might need to rest."
Jeyce frowned at that, clearly disappointed. "But it’s just walking, not running," he reasoned, as if that would change things. He looked up at his dad with pleading eyes. "Please, Daddy, can you come? Please? And Rhea too? We won’t run or anything!"
Jey looked down at his son, seeing the hope in his little face. His heart melted a little at how much Jeyce wanted them both there. "Alright, alright," Jey finally said, ruffling his hair again. "We’ll come, but I gotta do something real quick with Uncle Jon first, okay?"
Jeyce’s eyes lit up, and he clapped his hands together excitedly. "Yay! Thanks, Daddy!"
Jey smiled, glancing over at Trinity, who gave him an approving nod. "Good luck dragging him away from the gym," she teased with a grin.
Jey chuckled, "Yeah, I’m gonna need it." With that, he headed toward the gym to grab Jon for their quick trip.
As Jey stepped into the garage, he saw Jon pushing through the last of a heavy set, sweat dripping from his face. The clanging of the weights echoed through the space, and when Jon spotted Jey, he set the barbell down with a grunt.
“What’s up?” Jon asked, wiping his face with a towel.
Jey exhaled. “I need you to drive me to Rhea and Matt’s house to get her car. She doesn’t want to go back there… and I don’t blame her.”
Jon gave a quick nod. “Got it,” he said, tossing his towel onto a nearby bench. Without hesitation, he grabbed his keys and the two of them headed to the car.
The ride was quiet at first, both of them lost in thought. Jon knew where Rhea and Matt lived—the house wasn’t far from their own. Jey, on the other hand, had never been there and didn’t know what to expect. As they pulled onto her street, Jey’s eyes widened slightly. The house was bigger than he had imagined, and the yard was sprawling, with a well-kept garden that seemed to stand in the turmoil Rhea had been going through.
“She’s got a nice spot,” Jey muttered, more to himself than Jon, as they pulled into the driveway. He couldn’t help but admire the garden—it was clear she’d poured a lot of care into it. He remembered Rhea mentioning how working on it helped her feel grounded, like it was the one thing she could control.
Jon parked the car, about to make a comment on how peaceful the house looked, when suddenly both brothers froze. Standing in the doorway, arms crossed and glaring at them with a venomous look, was Matt.
“What the…?” Jey muttered, eyes narrowing as he saw the man who had caused so much pain.
Jon, still gripping the steering wheel, gave a low whistle. “Looks like the bastard made bail,” he said, his voice tight with disbelief.
Jey’s jaw clenched. He hadn’t expected to see Matt here—not after everything that had happened. “I don’t believe it.” Jey’s voice was low, anger simmering beneath the surface.
Jon shot a glance at his brother, tension thick in the air. “Look like he is up for a game of whoop ass..”
Jey’s fists clenched at his sides, the urge to confront Matt almost overwhelming. He didn’t know what Matt’s game was, but seeing him standing there, at Rhea’s house, set off every protective instinct Jey had.
“We’ll get the car and go,” Jey said, trying to keep his voice steady, though his body was coiled with anger. He didn’t want this to escalate, but Matt’s mere presence felt like a challenge.
As they sat in the car, Jon’s hands still on the wheel, Jey stared back at Matt. For a moment, neither of them moved, and the tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife.
“Let’s handle this,” Jon said, his tone serious, ready to back Jey up no matter what happened next.
As soon as Jey and Jon stepped out of the car, the tension between Jey and Matt was poison. They stared each other down in silence, until Matt finally broke it with a venomous sneer.
“How does it feel to break up two marriages, Jey?” Matt spat, his words sharp and full of bitterness.
Jey held his tongue, unwilling to give Matt the satisfaction of a reaction. But Matt wasn’t done.
“Do you even know if Rhea really loves you?” Matt pressed, stepping forward with a mocking smirk.
Jon stepped in, sensing the rising heat. “We’re just here to get Rhea’s car, man. That’s it.”
Matt shifted his glare to Jon, his expression darkening. “Oh yeah? Like when you and Trinity pulled up with the cops to take my animals?” His voice dripped with resentment.
Jey, fed up with Matt’s antics, finally spoke up. “We just need the car, Matt. That’s all.”
But Matt let out a maniacal laugh, the kind that sent a shiver down Jey’s spine. “Bring it!” Matt growled as he stormed toward Jey, fists clenched, his eyes wild with anger.
Before Jey could react, Matt swung at him. Jey dodged, narrowly avoiding the blow, and the two men immediately erupted into a full-on brawl. Punches were exchanged in a chaotic flurry, both men fueled by years of bad blood and unresolved tension.
Matt’s rage gave him a terrifying strength, and at one point, he managed to wrap his hands around Jey’s throat, squeezing tightly. Jey gasped for breath, feeling the world start to blur at the edges, but before Matt could do any more damage, Jon rushed in. He tackled Matt hard into the side of the house, the impact sending a loud thud reverberating through the air.
Matt crumpled to the ground, dazed and winded, while Jon stood over him, breathing heavily, ready to intervene again if needed. But Matt was done, his energy drained from the brutal scuffle.
“Let’s get out of here,” Jon said, his voice low and urgent as he wiped sweat from his brow.
Jey didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly unlocked Rhea’s Jeep and jumped inside, his adrenaline still pumping. As he started the engine, he glanced in the rearview mirror just in time to see Jon getting into his own car, prepared to follow.
They pulled out of the driveway in tandem, the tension from the fight still thick in the air. As Jey drove, he felt a sharp sting above his eyebrow. He reached up and touched the spot, realizing he was bleeding from where Matt had landed a punch. With a sigh, Jey wiped the blood away, his mind racing.
As they drove away from the house, the memory of Matt’s crazed look still fresh in Jey’s mind, his thoughts drifted to Rhea. He couldn’t wait to get back to her, to tell her it was done. They had her car, and now they could move forward—away from the chaos, together.
Jon said as soon as the two approached the Jon’s house and got out of their cars. “You good, Uce?”
Jey let out a breath, his heart still pounding. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice rough from the fight. “Just a little cut.”
Jon chuckled, though there was concern in his tone. “Glad I was there, bro. He had his hands around your neck.”
Jey smirked despite the situation. “Yeah, he tried. But I’m not going down that easy. Not for him.”
Jey and Jon walked back into the house, the air still thick with tension from the fight. As they entered, Trinity immediately noticed the cut on Jey’s eyebrow, her eyes widening in concern. But before she could say anything, Jey gave her a quick shake of his head, silently telling her not to ask. He wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.
Without another word, he headed upstairs, feeling the weight of the day pressing on his shoulders. As soon as he entered the room he shared with Rhea, she sat up from the bed, her eyes locking onto the cut on his brow. Her concern was immediate, and she moved toward him, her mouth opening to ask what had happened.
Before she could say anything, Jey stopped her with a quiet but firm statement. “We’re getting the rental in Pensacola or anywhere other than Orlando,” he said, his voice low and determined.
Rhea frowned but didn’t push further. She could see the exhaustion and frustration in his eyes. Without a word, she walked over to the vanity, rummaging through the drawer until she found some Neosporin and a small blemish bandage. Carefully, she returned to Jey and began tending to his wounds, dabbing the ointment on his eyebrow and applying the bandage with a soft, practiced touch. Her fingers lingered as she found other small cuts on his face, gently cleaning each one.
Jey watched her in silence, the tender care she gave him easing the tension he’d been holding onto since the encounter with Matt. When she was done, he cupped her face and kissed her deeply, pouring all of his emotions into that single moment. Rhea kissed him back, just as deeply, her hands resting on his chest as if trying to steady him.
Pulling back slightly, Jey looked into her eyes and said, “I’m gonna change, and we’re gonna have a good day with the family at the Science Center. I’m not letting anything ruin today.”
Rhea smiled softly, her worry still present but muted. She nodded in agreement. “Okay,” she said. “We’ll have a great day.”
Jey kissed her one more time before moving toward the dresser, already feeling lighter just knowing they were moving forward. He wasn’t going to let Matt—or anything else—take away from the time he had with his family today.
Rhea sat down on the bench, her body sinking into the cool metal as she watched the kids dart around the DinoDigs exhibit, their excited voices echoing through the room. She hadn’t expected to feel this tired, but the whirlwind of emotions, combined with the physical toll her body had taken recently, was catching up to her.
Jey came over and sat beside her, his eyes immediately scanning her face for any signs of discomfort. “You okay?” he asked softly, his hand resting on her knee.
Rhea took a sip of her water, feeling the cold liquid soothe her parched throat. She nodded but didn’t say much at first, letting the noise of the exhibit fill the silence between them. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she finally answered. “Just more tired than I thought I’d be.”
Jey glanced over at the kids, making sure they were still within sight, before turning his full attention back to her. “We’re almost done here. Just a few more things the kids wanna see, then we’ll head out,” he reassured her.
Rhea gave him a small smile, feeling a bit guilty. “I’ve gotten lazy, haven’t I? I need the exercise,” she joked lightly, though the fatigue in her voice was hard to miss.
Jey shook his head, chuckling softly. “You’re not lazy, baby. You’ve been through a lot. It’s okay to take it easy.”
Rhea leaned back on the bench, her eyes following Jaciyah as he pointed out something to Jeyce, both boys completely absorbed in their adventure. “I know,” she sighed. “I just hate feeling like this. Like I’m not... me.”
Jey slipped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in for a gentle side hug. “You’re still you, Rhea. You just need time. We’ll take it slow, like we always do. No rush.”
She rested her head on his shoulder, grateful for his steady presence. “Thanks,” she whispered. “For everything.”
Jey kissed the top of her head. “Anything for you.”
As Trinity switched cars with Jon, the kids and Jey all piled in the car. Rhea kissed Jey goodbye and then Trinity turned to Rhea with a smile, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "Alright, girl, I’ve got a treat for you. How about a facial and massage at this amazing spa downtown? I promise, by the time we’re done, you’re gonna feel like a whole new woman."
Rhea managed a small smile, appreciating the offer. "You’re too good to me, Trin."
Trinity waved it off. "Please, you deserve it after everything. Plus, that place is heaven on earth. You’ll thank me after."
As they drove toward downtown Orlando, the soothing hum of the car ride gave Rhea a moment to reflect. The day had been emotionally exhausting, and now that they were away from the chaos of the Science Center, her thoughts started to catch up with her.
"Trin," Rhea said softly, her voice hesitant. "Can I... can I rant for a bit?"
Trinity glanced at her briefly with a smile. "Of course, babe. Go for it."
Rhea exhaled deeply, gathering her thoughts. "I’m so thankful for everything you and Jon have done for me. You’ve opened up your home, made me feel like family, but... I don’t know. I still feel like I’m intruding. Like I’m this fragile thing that’s just taking up space in your lives. And I hate that feeling."
Trinity’s expression softened as she listened, keeping her eyes on the road but fully present in the conversation. "Rhea, you’re not intruding at all. We love having you with us. And after everything you’ve been through... it's okay to feel fragile. You’re healing. But trust me, you’re stronger than you realize. It’s okay to lean on us, we want you to."
Rhea stared out the window, watching the city blur by. "I just don’t want to be a burden, you know? I’m trying to be strong, but sometimes it feels like I’m just breaking apart."
Trinity reached over, placing a hand on Rhea’s. "You’re not a burden. Not even close. We’ve got you. And you don’t always have to be strong, Rhea. It’s okay to let others carry the weight sometimes. That’s what family does."
Rhea blinked away the tears threatening to form. Trinity's words were comforting, but the feelings of guilt and fragility lingered. "Thank you, Trin," she whispered, squeezing her hand back.
Trinity smiled warmly. "Anytime. And trust me, after that spa treatment, you’re gonna feel a whole lot better. This is your time to reset. You’ve earned it."
Rhea nodded, feeling a little lighter, if only for a moment. "Yeah, maybe I do need that reset."
Trinity grinned as she pulled into the spa parking lot. "That’s the spirit. Now let’s get pampered!"
Jey and Jon made the drive to Titusville with ease, the road clear as they chatted about everything from the kids to plans for the weekend. The kids had been excited for the trip, especially since they’d get to spend some quality time with their grandpa, Solofa, but Jeyce had been clinging to Jey, reluctant to let him go.
As Jon said his goodbyes to his kids, Jey knelt down to Jeyce’s level. The little boy looked up at him with wide eyes, his lower lip jutting out in a pout.
"Dad, I wanna go with you and Rhea," Jeyce whined, glancing over at his older brother, Jaciyah, who rolled his eyes in response.
Jey smiled softly, placing a hand on Jeyce’s shoulder. "I know, little man, but I need you to stay here with Grandpa for a bit. It’s only for a few days, and then I’ll come get you and Jaciyah, and we’ll all go to Universal together on Friday, okay? You’re gonna have fun with Grandpa."
Jeyce wasn’t entirely convinced, but he trusted his dad. "Promise you’ll come back?" he asked, his voice small and uncertain.
"I promise," Jey said, pulling him in for a tight hug. "And we’re gonna have so much fun at Universal. I’ll be back before you know it."
Jeyce hugged his dad tightly, finally letting go with a sniffle. Jey stood and looked at Jaciyah, who just gave him a nod, his emotions more complicated. The older boy still held some resentment over everything that had happened, and Jey could see the pain in his eyes, even though Jaciyah wasn’t ready to talk about it.
Jey didn’t push. He just nodded back and said, "I’ll see you soon, alright?"
Jaciyah nodded again, arms crossed over his chest, still not ready to bridge the gap between them. Jey understood. He knew it would take time.
After saying their final goodbyes, Jey and Jon got back in the car, the mood more somber as they made their way back to the house. Jey glanced out the window, deep in thought, his mind drifting back to Rhea and what he wanted to do for her tonight.
"Kids, man," Jon said, breaking the silence as they drove. "They love us, but when stuff happens, it’s like they carry that weight with them."
Jey nodded. "Yeah, Jaciyah’s still not over everything. I don’t blame him, though. It’s been tough on all of us."
Jon glanced at him. "Give it time, Uce'. He’ll come around. He is only 17... that is the hardest time to go through something emotional. He's graduating next year, he already has a lot on the plate. You’re doing the best you can."
Jey appreciated Jon’s words but remained quiet. He was determined to make things right with his boys, with Rhea, with everyone. Tonight was just the start of trying to rebuild what had been fractured, one step at a time.
As they drove back, Jon broke the silence with a grin, glancing over at Jey. "So, what’s the plan, Uce’? What are you gonna do for Rhea tonight?"
Jey chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "I don’t know, man. What about you? Where are you takin' Trinity?"
Jon shrugged, the same uncertainty in his voice. "No clue. You’d think I’d have it figured out by now."
Jey raised an eyebrow. "You don’t know? You’ve been married how long?"
Jon laughed. "Hey, you don’t even know what you’re doing for Rhea either."
"Touché," Jey admitted.
Jon smirked, looking out the window before throwing another question at Jey. "Do you even know her favorite food… besides pizza?"
That’s when it hit Jey, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "Pizza! That’s it!"
Jon raised an eyebrow, watching as Jey grew more animated. "Uh… what?"
"We’ll make pizza together! Like, from scratch!" Jey said, now fully invested in his new idea. He turned to Jon with a wide grin. "It’ll be fun, man. We’ll get all the ingredients, and we’ll make it together. Rhea will love it."
Jon rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help but smile at his brother’s enthusiasm. "Alright, bro, whatever makes you happy. Just save me a slice, okay?"
Jey laughed, nodding eagerly. "I got you. You’ll get the first slice."
Jon shook his head with a smirk. "You better make it good, then."
As they pulled into the driveway, Jey was buzzing with excitement. The idea of making pizza together with Rhea felt perfect—simple, fun, and something that would make her smile. He was determined to make it a special night, and this was the first step.
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