#(unsure if i will survive. remember me.)
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parab0mb · 2 months ago
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ISaT act 3 spoiler pics below:
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I finished the remaining side quests today.
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all-thestories-aretrue · 6 months ago
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If anyone cares I am STILL thinking about that phone call. He tried to call her back!! TWICE!!!!
And the line about how she keeps thinking about the way his scars felt. 🫠🫠 end me.
Edit: actually im not done. How long has britta been thinking about this??? Since before her loss of willpower??? After??? How did that psychic attack change things?? Would she have said all that if she still had her full willpower?? How did that affect all her other emotions? I'm going to say it intensified them, or at least the shame she feels at wanting something for herself. Now she just doesnt have the control to say no. How often has she denied herself in the past??? What other consequences will we see going forward??? Britta!!!!!
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feyascorner · 11 months ago
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At first, he blinks when you wrap your arms around him.
For as much as he can remember, sex has been a tool to him. A necessity to survive under Cazador's influence, leaving him in a state that loathes the touch of others. Most encounters remained the same--he'd disassociate, and by the time he'd come to, he'd want to leave immediately, wishing to scrub his skin raw. But no matter how much he'd cleaned his own body, it never seemed enough.
At least, until you.
He feels your bare form press against his back and tenses. It's different from before---not out of disgust, but out of surprise. He'd thought you'd leave. He'd given you his services and had nothing left to offer you, yet here you were, your cheeks smushed against the crook of his neck. He has no idea what you're doing, but you simply hold him tighter.
"What is this?" he finally says.
You don't budge. "What's what?"
His hands brush against your own. "This."
"My hand?" you snort, but he adjusts his body so he's now facing you, your eyes meeting with such seriousness that the smile vanishes from your face. "Are you okay? Did you not like it?"
He nearly balks at your words. Not like it? It's the first time he hasn't lost himself in the cage of his own mind during the act in---well, forever. He doesn't even want to scrub until his skin peels because he wants your touch to linger as long as possible. "I did, I just--we had sex, my dear."
The slightest pink tinges on your cheeks, and he wants to move his hands to cup them. "We did."
"...People usually leave by now."
Your face falls. "You want me to leave?"
"No, of course not, but it's just what usually..." he trails off, and his brows furrow. You suddenly seem to understand his confusion as your eyes soften in that irritatingly beautiful way of yours. But they almost seem sad...for him.
"I can stay," you say, your fingers tracing the shapes of his face. It feels nice if the way he nearly shudders means anything. He wants more.
"If you insist on adoring me, then," he replies, but his voice isn't as performative as it usually is. "Who am I to stop you?"
You smile wider, and he's sure his poor heart is doomed.
The first few times after this, he's still hesitant, unsure if you're really going to stay. But after a while, he's the one to wrap his arms around you, bringing you impossibly close as he breathes in the scent of your soap. You let him hold you until morning, and even then, he doesn't want to let go.
"Thank you," he mumbles one day. "Truly."
You only squeeze his hand, and it's enough for a thousand unspoken words.
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werewolfetone · 18 days ago
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As a student in the west one of the most sickening things in the entire world to me right now is the fact that every day I can wake up, eat breakfast, and work quietly on any schoolwork I might have for the day without any worries beyond academic and personal concerns, while Marah @freepaleatine95 can't, simply because she's from Gaza and I'm not. I know that many of yous are also students and I would urge yous to consider as well how maddeningly, infuriatingly unfair it is that Palestinian students in 2024 can't even peacefully study the way western students can. after all, how would you feel if you were forced to complete a computer science degree in a tent, during a genocide, without consistent access to food or water, constantly unsure if you were going to be killed the next day simply for daring to exist in an area which the local genocidal coloniser country has decided they want to annex? or, if you aren't currently a student, how you would have felt trying to complete what education you do have under those conditions? sit with those feelings for a minute and then channel them into donating to this vetted fundraiser to help Marah reach a place where she is afforded the basic right of being able to work, study, live, and thrive in peace:
As always, if helping an innocent family survive a genocide somehow isn't enough incentive to donate, remember that I'm offering commissions in return for donations to this fundraiser here.
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oxymorayuri · 7 months ago
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❞𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞❝
Headcanons with my favorite boyssss [ Ace | Kid | Law | Doffy ] Wordcount » 1234 (lol no way... you see it? 1234...) Info » just cute things ;3
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𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: Ace: qmech | Kid: skxviii | Law: oyasumi_mofu | Doffy: Hijiki_DaiXt
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𝑃𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑔𝑎𝑠 𝐷. 𝐴𝑐𝑒
You both get partner tattoos instead of wedding rings but not something lame like a circle around the ring finger rather something small and personal. You have a little flame on the side of your thigh and he has one on his chest that has something to do with you. Maybe you have a devil fruit or a special weapon? It's up to you :p
You never thought you'd cry at your wedding ceremony because Ace let the most beautiful vows EVER leave his lips. His words were typically Ace and in between your tears he made you laugh. You were almost ashamed when it was your turn because you just wanted to repeat a sentence he once said to you but you changed it a bit… "I'm not interested in living a thousand years, it's enough for me to survive today with you." You spoke. Ace recognized the words immediately and remembered the conversation you shared in the past with a broad grin. He almost yanked you to him and kissed your lips even though the priest hadn't even given his blessing yet. But he doesn't care, he doesn't need the priest's blessings when he has you.
He definitely had his own thoughts about the wedding. For example, he has looked into various traditions… but it seems like he got something wrong… Instead of carrying you bridal style over the doorstep, he carried you all day. As soon as you set foot on the floor to get a new drink, he picked you up in his arms. His statement? "Come on love, when will I have the chance to carry you in your wedding dress again?". Okay that's smooth.
𝐸𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑠 𝐾𝑖𝑑
Kid probably would never have proposed to you on his own. You've been together for so long now and every time you've seen a married couple your mood has soured. You were annoyed and also disgusted and one day Killer asked you about it and in the conversation you ironically realized that you also wanted to get married lol… when you were with Kid in his workshop you casually mentioned, that you thought it would be a good idea for the two of you to get married as he was working on one of his new creations. He froze at the word marriage and the next second his machine caught fire because he held the welding rod on it for too long. You both panicked and put out the fire and you realized that he found the topic unpleasant and unnecessary, but you are you and you get everything you want, even if you have to force him! Luckily for you, Killer told you that Kid likes the idea of you committing to him forever, but pshht… otherwise Killer will lose his life.
He will send you away if you want to ask him something about the wedding planning or want his opinion. He'll just tell you that you can do whatever you think is necessary (ugh). You think it's a bit of a shame but you don't mind, you just want him to feel comfortable at his own wedding. After all, it's not just yours. But if it were up to him, he would simply put the ring on your finger and seal your marriage with a big smooch on the lips. But later in the evening you notice that he has circled options he likes or left little notes on your wedding plans and that's when you know you're marrying the right one.
he forges your rings and is quite proud of his work, but secretly nags Killer that he is unsure whether you like the rings. When he saw the sparkle in your eyes and heard your words about how much you love the rings, his heart stopped for a moment only to beat extremely fast. He wanted to marry you right on the spot, but he knows how much love you put into the planning. Happy wife happy life lol.
𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑎𝑟 𝐷. 𝑊𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐿𝑎𝑤
A grand wedding with everyone (including the straw hats etc.) is planned, but he has other plans and takes you to the most romantic place to have a wedding ceremony just for the two of you. The party can still take place afterwards with everyone, you are a little social butterfly after all, but the wedding ceremony? That's between you and him <3
Law, similar to Ace, would want partner tattoos instead of real rings but rather in an intimate place where only both of you will see it… if you know what I mean ;) It's safe to say he'll shower your tattoo with kisses everytime when you're getting busy.
He has already seen you (without you knowing it) in your wedding dress. He knew exactly what was going on when you waltzed happily past him with a big package... And even if he hesitated for a moment, he followed you discreetly like a pretty good stalker… He peered through the gap of the door to the room you shared. You were apparently so excited that you hadn't even closed the door. He heard you squealing happily in the bathroom and without really realizing it, he held his breath until you came out of the bathroom. And then you stood there in your beautiful white dress. The feeling in his chest increased rapidly as he watched you twirl in front of the mirror like a princess. Your laughter makes him grin… "I guess she's just as happy as I am that we're getting married..." he thought to himself with a satisfied expression as he let go of the door and walked away. He leaves you a little moment for yourself and your joy, he'll see you walking towards him soon anyway. He is pretty sure that he will never forget that moment. The sight of you walking towards him will be engraved in his brain.
𝐷𝑜𝑛𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑡𝑒 𝐷𝑜𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑜
You want fireworks that paint your faces in the sky? A thousand white doves that are released when you kiss? A 10 meter high chocolate fountain? A wedding in pink? No problem. Your list is long and you get everything you want. Doflamingo will put together the perfect team to fulfill your every wish. Money doesn't matter, but you do.
You get a ring with a gemstone you've never seen before. Even if you express your doubts that you are afraid of losing this precious ring, Doffy reacts almost insulted. You are the rarest and most valuable gemstone in the world. If you lose the ring, he'll have a new one before you know it.
It's going to be a big big wedding BUT not many people are invited because there's a chance of someone ruining it. Whoever is invited is a big figure or part of the family. Everything is secured but not in an oppressive way. It all plays in the background, because if there were security guards everywhere it would ruin your perfect wedding picture. Nobody is allowed to ruin this day for you and him and if they do, they will pay for it. He also has the wedding broadcast live on TV so that everyone can see that he's marrying the most beautiful woman in the world. How extra.
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Masterlist
I hope you enjoyed reading it. See you next time <3
𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒚𝒖𝒓𝒊 ♡
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stylesispunk · 1 month ago
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Silent Strain | part v
Outbreak!Joel Miller x f! reader
previous chapter | next chapter
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summary: Joel's return came along with some demons following behind and secrets he doesn't want to confess.
w.c: 14k.
Warnings: angst, Joel acts a little dumb during this chapter, fluff, allusions to smut at the end, not proofreading.
a/n: the original chapter was deleted from my laptop and I had to rewrite it again. I didn't remember everything so this one was a bit more dramatic than the original, cuz your writer here was dumped yesterday (💀) besides I wanted to focus on their reunion. The next one is going to be better I promise and Joel is going to behave better🤞✨ thank you so much for your support. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💌
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
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“I’m sorry,” Joel whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I’m so damn sorry. I never wanted to leave you—never wanted to hurt you.”
You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your gaze meeting his. His eyes, usually so guarded, were filled with an overwhelming sorrow and love that made your heart clench. He lifted a hand to cup your face, his thumb gently wiping away your tears.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought… I thought I doing what was right. But I know I hurt you”
You nodded, unable to form words, your emotions too raw, too tangled. But you could see it now, the regret, the pain he carried just as heavily as you had. And while the hurt of him leaving still lingered, there was something else too, something stronger: the undeniable bond between you, the love that had survived despite everything.
Joel leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm and shaky. “I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere, I swear.”
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you let yourself believe it. You closed your eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours.
As you pulled away from Joel's embrace, your eyes fell on Ellie. She stood awkwardly by the door, her arms crossed over her chest, her face shadowed with guilt. She glanced up at you timidly, as if unsure of her place in all of this. Her usually tough exterior seemed to crumble in that moment, revealing the vulnerable girl beneath.
You could see it in her eyes—the weight she carried, the guilt, the fear that maybe she had been part of the reason Joel left, that she had put him in danger that she had separated Joel from you, that somehow this was her fault. But you couldn’t let her believe that. Ellie had been through enough already, and the last thing you wanted was for her to feel like she didn’t belong like she wasn’t part of your family.
Without a second thought, you walked over to her, your steps steady and sure. She blinked, clearly taken off guard, her eyes widening slightly as you reached her. Before she could say anything, you pulled her into a tight embrace, wrapping your arms around her in the same way you had with Joel. You felt her stiffen at first, uncertain, but then she relaxed into the hug, her small frame leaning into yours.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you whispered, your voice soft but filled with sincerity.
Ellie didn’t say anything at first, but you felt her arms slowly lift to return the embrace, her fingers clutching the fabric of your shirt like she was holding on for dear life. Her breath hitched slightly, and you could tell she was trying not to cry, to hold onto her usual tough façade. But in that moment, it didn’t matter. She needed to know she was safe, that she was loved.
When you finally pulled back, you kept your hands on her shoulders, looking her in the eye. “It’s not your fault,” you said firmly, wanting her to understand that.
She swallowed hard, her gaze flicking to the floor. “I—I thought you would hate me,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I… messed everything up.”
“You didn’t,” you reassured her, your voice gentle but steady. “You brought him. You both made it back, and that’s what matters. We’re together now.”
Ellie nodded slowly, though the guilt still lingered in her eyes. But there was a flicker of relief too, a small spark of hope that she wasn’t alone in this, that she didn’t have to carry the burden by herself anymore.
Ellie’s eyes shifted down to your abdomen, where your once swollen belly was now gone, her brows furrowing in confusion. “Where’s the baby?” she asked, her voice quiet but filled with curiosity, almost as if she wasn’t sure how to ask the question.
You smiled gently, the warmth of the moment settling in as you glanced toward the bedroom’s door. “She’s sleeping now,” you answered softly, a deep sense of pride and tenderness filling your chest.
“She?” Joel’s voice cut through the quiet, and you turned to see him staring at you with wide eyes, his expression a mixture of awe and disbelief. “A baby girl?”
You nodded, your eyes softening as you looked at him. “Yeah… a baby girl. Rosie.”
For a moment, Joel didn’t move, his eyes flicking between you and the door to the bedroom where his daughter was sleeping, as though he was trying to wrap his mind around the reality of it. His baby girl. The emotions that flickered across his face—joy, relief, maybe even a little fear—were unmistakable.
“She’s beautiful, Joel,” you said quietly, watching as his eyes grew glassy.
Joel swallowed hard, trying to keep his emotions in check, but it was clear that the weight of the moment was sinking in. He blinked a few times, as if still trying to comprehend what you had said. “Rosie…” he whispered, the name sounding foreign but perfect on his lips. He nodded slowly, as if saying it aloud made it more real. “Can I see her?” he asked.
Joel’s gaze softened, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. The man who had once been hardened by loss and pain now stood before you, vulnerable and overwhelmed by the love he had found again. “I… I need to see her,” he finally managed, his voice thick with emotion.
You smiled, your heart swelling at his tenderness. “Go ahead. She’s waiting for you.”
Joel hesitated for a second, as if afraid to move, but then slowly made his way toward the bedroom door. Ellie stayed back, watching the exchange with a faint smile, but there was still something distant in her gaze. You gave her a reassuring look, hoping to bridge the gap that seemed to have formed between you all since they had returned.
When Joel disappeared into the room, you turned your attention back to Ellie. “You did the right thing, Ellie. You brought him back.”
Ellie shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t know… it doesn’t feel like it.”
You stepped closer to her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You did. We’re here now, because of you. And Rosie’s going to need you too.”
Ellie’s eyes softened, the guilt still lingering, but she nodded slowly. “I’ll try,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
You gave Ellie a soft smile, sensing the weight of everything she had gone through. “Come on,” you said, your voice gentle. “Let’s go see Rosie together.”
Ellie looked at you hesitantly, her brow furrowing as if she wasn’t sure whether she should join, but you could see the curiosity in her eyes. You reached out your hand, offering her the choice. “She’s part of you too, Ellie. You’ve been with us through everything.”
After a moment’s pause, Ellie slowly placed her hand in yours, the corners of her lips lifting into a tentative smile. You led her toward the bedroom where Joel was standing over Rosie’s crib, his hand softly resting on her tiny back as she slept. He glanced up when the two of you entered, his eyes warm and full of emotion, but they softened even more when he saw Ellie.
“She’s real tiny,” Ellie muttered under her breath, taking cautious steps toward the crib. She peered down at Rosie, her eyes widening as if she couldn’t believe the sight in front of her.
“She is,” Joel whispered, his voice filled with awe. He glanced at you, his expression still laced with wonder.
Ellie stood beside Joel, looking down at Rosie with a mixture of fascination and uncertainty. “I’ve never seen a baby this close before,” she admitted quietly, her hand twitching a little as if she wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure if she should.
You gave her a reassuring nod. “You can touch her, Ellie. She’s stronger than she looks.”
Ellie hesitated for a moment before gently placing her hand on Rosie’s small, delicate arm. Rosie shifted in her sleep but didn’t wake, her tiny fingers curling slightly at the warmth of Ellie’s touch. Ellie’s eyes softened even more, and for a moment, she just stood there, her expression almost unreadable, but you knew there was a flicker of something new—a sense of connection.
“She’s… warm,” Ellie whispered, her voice barely audible. There was a tenderness in her gaze now, something you hadn’t seen in a long time, and it made your heart swell.
Joel wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close as you watched Ellie bond with Rosie. The three of you stood there, sharing a quiet moment that felt sacred, a moment where everything—despite the hardships, the losses, and the uncertainty—seemed to fall into place.
Joel’s gaze shifted from Rosie to you, his arm tightening around your waist as he pulled you even closer. The softness in his eyes made your heart flutter—there was love there, deep and unwavering, but also gratitude. He looked at you as if he couldn’t believe everything that had come to pass, how the three of you were here, together, in this moment.
“You,” he whispered, his voice rough but tender, “you’ve given me everything.”
His words hit you like a wave, and you felt the emotion rising in your chest. You turned to face him fully, your hands resting gently on his chest as you met his gaze. “Joel…”
Before you could say anything more, he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing your cheeks. “I don’t think I ever believed I’d have this again,” he admitted, his voice low, full of reverence. “A family.”
Your heart swelled, the weight of his words sinking in. The years of survival, of pain, and of loss had hardened Joel in so many ways, but here he was—vulnerable, open, and holding on to the life you had built together.
“We are a family,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “You, me, Ellie, and Rosie. We’re a family, Joel.”
Joel’s lips twitched into a soft smile as he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m never lettin’ this go. I swear.”
The warmth of his touch, the steady beat of his heart under your hands—it all made you feel safe, anchored in a world that had once felt like it was always slipping away. You tilted your head up, meeting his lips in a soft kiss, a promise shared between the two of you, wordless but understood.
Ellie, sensing the intimacy of the moment, quietly stepped back from Rosie’s crib and gave the two of you space. She glanced back at Rosie with a small smile before slipping out of the room, leaving you and Joel alone in the soft morning light.
Joel kissed you again, slower this time, his lips lingering against yours as if he needed to savor the feeling. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. “Thank you,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “For all of this.”
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The afternoon passed by quietly, the atmosphere shifting slightly as the day wore on. Joel hadn’t explained much about the thin cut on his neck, and though it didn’t look too serious, it was enough to keep you glancing at him, worry bubbling beneath the surface. Every time you caught his eye, he brushed it off, offering a small smile as if to say it was nothing.
But Ellie had noticed it too, and her mood shifted. She grew more silent, retreating into herself in a way that made the room feel heavier. The unspoken tension lingered between the three of you, subtle but present.
Tommy stopped by for a moment, stepping through the door with a light knock. He exchanged a few words with Joel, his eyes flicking between the two of you as if sensing something wasn’t quite right. You tried to keep things normal, making small talk with Tommy about the day, but even he seemed to feel the undercurrent of unease.
When Tommy left, the silence settled in again, more noticeable this time. You looked between Joel and Ellie, feeling the weight of whatever was unspoken, and decided to break the tension the only way you knew how.
“I’ll make us something to eat,” you offered, your voice light as you stood from the couch. “How about some soup? We could all use something warm.”
But Ellie shook her head, her eyes downcast. “I’m not really hungry,” she muttered, her voice low, almost detached.
You glanced at Joel, who shot you a quick look of concern. He cleared his throat, trying to ease the tension. “You should eat, kid. We’ve been on the road for a long time. Ain’t good to go too long without a meal.”
Ellie shrugged, not looking up. “I’m fine,” she said, but there was an edge to her tone, like something was bothering her. Something she wasn’t saying.
Joel frowned, but didn’t push. You could see the worry in his eyes, though—he didn’t like this silence from Ellie any more than you did. You gave her a soft look, stepping closer to where she sat.
“Ellie, if something’s on your mind, you can talk to me,” you said gently, trying to draw her out of the shell she was retreating into.
She glanced up at you, her expression tight, but didn’t respond. Instead, she shifted on the couch and crossed her arms, staring at the floor.
The room felt tense again, and you exchanged another glance with Joel. He reached out, rubbing the back of his neck, where the cut still seemed to be bothering him. You couldn’t help but feel that whatever had happened out there—on their journey back—was still casting a shadow over them both.
Sighing softly, you stepped back towards the kitchen. “I’ll make something small, just in case you change your mind,” you said, your voice quieter now.
As you moved to prepare the food, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the silence than just hunger or exhaustion. You knew Ellie had been through something on the road with Joel, something that neither of them had fully opened up about yet. And it hung in the air, like a storm cloud waiting to break.
You paused in the doorway of the kitchen, glancing back at Ellie. The heaviness in the air was hard to ignore, but you tried to push past it. “I’ll just whip up something light,” you began, hoping it might help ease the tension.
But before you could take another step, Ellie’s voice cut through the quiet. “No,” she said abruptly, her tone sharper than you expected. She pushed herself up from the couch, her movements quick and tense. “I’m just gonna… go to bed,” she muttered, avoiding eye contact as she made her way towards the bedroom.
You exchanged a quick look with Joel, his brow furrowed as he watched Ellie’s retreating form. Neither of you said anything, but the worry was evident in his eyes. Something was wrong.
Ellie paused at the door to the bedroom, her hand lingering on the handle as if she wanted to say more, but whatever words she had were swallowed by the silence. She opened the door and slipped inside, closing it softly behind her.
You stood there for a moment, feeling the weight of her absence in the room, the quiet settling in again, even more oppressive now that she was gone. The silence between you and Joel felt loaded, like both of you knew there were things left unsaid, but neither of you knew where to start.
Joel let out a long breath, rubbing the back of his neck again, his fingers brushing the cut there. You moved closer to him, your eyes drawn to the mark on his skin. “You still haven’t told me what happened,” you said softly, your gaze meeting his.
He looked away for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before finally speaking. “It ain’t important,” he said gruffly, but the way he avoided your eyes told you otherwise.
You gently reached for his hand, your fingers brushing his. “Joel… please.”
He sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping a little as he looked at you. There was a flicker of pain in his eyes, a heaviness he couldn’t quite shake. “We ran into some trouble on the way back,” he admitted, his voice low. “Got separated for a bit, and… things got rough.”
You frowned, your heart tightening with worry. “Separated? How bad was it?”
Joel hesitated, his jaw clenching slightly. “Bad enough,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He glanced towards the bedroom door, where Ellie had disappeared. “She blames herself for a lot of it… thinks she didn’t do enough.”
You sighed, your heart aching for Ellie. “She’s just a kid, Joel. She carries too much already.”
He nodded, the guilt in his eyes unmistakable. “I know. But try tellin’ her that.” He rubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion clear in his posture.
You reached up, brushing a thumb over the cut on his neck. “And this?”
Joel shrugged slightly, as if trying to play it off. “It’s nothin’. Just a scrape.”
You gave him a pointed look, knowing there was more to it than he was letting on, but you also knew better than to push him too hard. Not right now. “You should rest too,” you said quietly, your hand still resting on his arm.
Joel looked at you for a long moment, his gaze softening. “Yeah,” he agreed, though his eyes kept flicking back to the closed bedroom door, the weight of everything still hanging between you both.
You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him gently, offering him the comfort he wouldn’t ask for but clearly needed. He held you close, his grip a little tighter than usual, as if grounding himself in the moment.
The room was quiet, save for the soft creak of the floorboards as you swayed gently back and forth, cradling Rosie in your arms. Her tiny breaths were slow and even, her little face peaceful as she slept against your chest. The warmth of her body, the softness of her skin—it all made the world outside seem far away for a moment.
You hadn’t noticed Joel standing in the doorway, his presence silent but heavy. He watched you, his expression unreadable, a strange mix of emotions flickering across his face. There was something in his eyes—something you couldn’t quite place—that hadn’t been there before their return. A shadow that lingered, clinging to him like a weight he couldn’t shake.
As you continued to rock Rosie gently, you felt a subtle shift in the air, a tension that hadn’t been there before. It was as if whatever they had been through out there hadn’t just stayed outside the walls of your home—it had seeped in, affecting everything. You could feel it in Joel’s silence, in the way Ellie had shut down, in the way Joel’s hand kept rubbing the back of his neck as if the cut there was more than just a physical wound.
You gently lowered Rosie into her crib, your movements careful, as though you could shield her from the unease that had crept into your home. Her tiny body shifted for a moment before she settled back into sleep, completely unaware of the turmoil that seemed to swirl around her.
When you finally turned, you saw Joel standing there, his hand resting on the doorframe. His gaze was fixed on you, but he didn’t say anything. He just stood there, watching, his face a mask of quiet contemplation.
“Joel?” you asked softly, taking a step toward him.
He blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, his eyes flicking away from you. “Didn’t mean to disturb you,” he muttered, his voice low.
“You weren’t,” you replied, your voice just as soft. “Is everything okay?”
Joel didn’t answer right away. He stepped into the room a little further, his gaze landing on Rosie in the crib. His face softened for a moment, but that strange tension still lingered. “I don’t know,” he admitted finally, his voice quiet and unsure, something that didn’t sit right with you.
You walked up to him, close enough to place a gentle hand on his arm. “Whatever it is, we can talk about it, Joel. You don’t have to carry it all alone.”
He looked down at you, his jaw tightening slightly. There was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t bring himself to. “No…I just wanted to say goodnight to the both of you.”
“What do you mean?” you asked, almost whispering “Aren’t you sleeping here?”
“I thought you didn’t want me to.” He said, and the way and the voice you wanted to hear almost seemed to break you.
Joel’s words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you were speechless. The vulnerability in his voice, the way he spoke as though he believed he was no longer welcome here, made your heart ache.
You stepped closer, your hand still resting on his arm, this time with a firmer grip, as though you were afraid he might slip away. “What?” you whispered, your voice shaking slightly. “Why would you think that?”
Joel’s eyes flicked down, avoiding yours, his jaw clenched tightly. “After… everything. Thought maybe you’d want some space,” he muttered, his voice rougher now, as though forcing out the words was difficult for him.
His insecurity broke something inside you. This man, who had carried so much for so long, was now standing in front of you, so unsure of where he stood, and it was almost unbearable.
“Joel,” you said softly, lifting your hand to his cheek, trying to get him to look at you. “I spent all this time missing you, how could you think that?”
Joel finally looked up at you, his eyes softening just enough for you to see the flicker of doubt that had settled deep inside him. “I know you missed me,” he said quietly, his voice still rough but tinged with the slightest trace of vulnerability. “But missin’ someone and wantin’ them back after what they’ve done… those are two different things.”
Your heart ached at his words. “Joel, don’t you understand?” you whispered, stepping closer to him, your hand still resting on his cheek. “I missed you. The real you. The man who keeps me safe, the one who’s always been there, no matter what.”
He swallowed hard, his gaze searching your face as if trying to find the truth in your words. “You don’t know what I’ve done,” he said softly, almost as if he were confessing. “Out there, with Ellie… I didn’t know if I could come back from it.”
His words hung heavy between you, and you could feel the weight of everything he wasn’t saying—everything he believed he had to carry on his own. But you weren’t going to let him carry it alone anymore.
“I don’t care what happened out there,” you said firmly, shaking your head. “Whatever you did, whatever choices you had to make to keep Ellie safe, to come back to me… it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
Joel’s jaw tightened again, but this time, it wasn’t out of anger or frustration—it was the struggle of holding back the emotion threatening to overwhelm him. “How can you still say that? After all this?” he rasped, his voice thick.
“Because I love you, Joel,” you said, your voice breaking as you spoke the words you hadn’t said in so long. “And nothing will ever change that.”
For a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of disbelief and something else—something deeper, more profound. Then, slowly, he let out a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping slightly as though the weight of his guilt was beginning to ease, just a little.
Without saying a word, Joel pulled you into his arms, holding you tight against his chest. You felt the tension in his body, the way he seemed to be holding on as if you were the only thing keeping him steady.
“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered into your hair, his voice barely audible.
“You deserve everything,” you murmured back, your heart full as you held onto him just as tightly. “Everything, Joel.”
The two of you stood there for what felt like an eternity, wrapped in each other’s warmth, neither wanting to let go. Eventually, Joel loosened his grip, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes were still soft, but the weight of all that he had carried was visible in the dark circles under them. You traced a finger along his jawline, feeling the roughness of his stubble, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the heaviness of the moment.
“Let’s get some rest,” you said quietly, your hand sliding down to take his. Joel nodded, and together you climbed into bed, the weight of everything still lingering, but with the promise that you weren’t alone anymore. As you settled under the blankets, Joel wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close, his warmth grounding you.
You both fell asleep for the first time in months with a sense of peace.
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Hours later, you stirred, feeling the coolness of the sheets beside you. Your hand instinctively reached out, searching for Joel, but the space next to you was empty. Groggily, you opened your eyes, glancing around the room. The soft moonlight streaming through the window cast shadows across the bed, and that familiar sense of panic began to rise in your chest.
You sat up, the dim room spinning for a moment before you steadied yourself. Rosie’s crib was empty, too. Your heart raced as your mind immediately went to the worst possible scenarios, a habit you'd developed in this unforgiving world.
“Joel?” you whispered into the quiet, your voice cracking.
Pushing back the blankets, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, your body tense with fear. You listened for any sound—a cry, a murmur—but the house was eerily silent. Barefoot, you padded towards the door, your pulse hammering in your ears. You stepped out into the hallway, your senses heightened, trying to catch any sign of movement.
Then, as you reached the end of the hallway, you saw them.
Joel was sitting in the old rocking chair near the window, cradling Rosie in his arms. The soft creak of the chair rocked in rhythm with his gentle humming, a melody so faint you could barely make it out. Rosie’s tiny face was nestled against Joel’s chest, her tiny fingers clutching at his shirt. Her eyes were closed, her small body relaxed in his strong arms.
The sight of them together made the panic that had gripped you slowly melt away, replaced by a deep, overwhelming tenderness.
Joel’s back was to you, but as if sensing your presence, he turned his head slightly, catching your gaze in the moonlight. His eyes softened when he saw you standing there, his lips parting as if to apologize.
“She woke up,” he whispered, his voice low and raspy in the stillness of the night. “Didn’t want to wake you, so I brought her out here.”
You stepped closer, your breath evening out now that you knew everything was okay. "You didn’t have to," you murmured softly, kneeling beside the chair so you were level with them. Your hand reached out to gently brush Rosie’s soft hair, the steady rise and fall of her breathing soothing your own nerves.
Joel shook his head, his gaze dropping back to Rosie. “I wanted to,” he admitted quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m obsessed with her. She is so beautiful”
His words hung in the air, and for a moment, all the fear, all the guilt he had carried for months seemed to dissolve in the quiet of this simple, intimate moment.
You leaned your head against Joel’s arm, taking in the warmth of him, the scent of Rosie’s baby skin. It wasn’t just about surviving anymore. It was about moments like this, holding on to the people you loved, no matter how broken the world outside was.
“She is” you replied, “You know, since she was born, I spent nights without finding myself able to sleep.” You low your gaze to Rosie, “I couldn’t. I was alone and I was scared something could ever happen to her. I needed to stay awake and make sure she was breathing”
Joel listened to you, but his heart broke a little inside, he had left you behind all this time when you needed him the most. Just when you have started your motherhood.
Joel’s chest tightened at your words, the weight of his absence settling heavily on his shoulders. He looked down at Rosie, the tiny bundle of innocence cradled in his arms, and the guilt surged through him once more. You had been alone during some of the most vulnerable moments of your life, forced to navigate the terrifying responsibility of motherhood in a world that had already taken so much from both of you.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, thick with regret. His gaze remained fixed on Rosie, his thumb gently stroking her soft cheek. “I should’ve been here. I should’ve been by your side. You shouldn’t have had to go through any of that alone.”
You could hear the pain in his voice, the anguish of a man who felt he had failed the people he loved most. It wasn’t his fault. You knew that. The world had forced his hand—forced him into impossible choices, and you had never blamed him for leaving. But hearing him say those words still made your heart ache.
“It wasn’t your fault, Joel,” you said softly, your hand reaching for his. “I know why you had to go with Ellie. I know you didn’t have a choice.”
Joel’s jaw clenched, his face hardening for a moment as if he were wrestling with the weight of everything he had done—everything he had seen. His eyes flicked back to yours, and you could see the vulnerability there, the raw emotion he rarely let anyone see.
“I still should’ve been here,” he repeated, his voice rough. “I should’ve found a way.”
You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, trying to ease the guilt that was eating away at him. “You’re here now,” you said quietly, your voice full of understanding. “That’s what matters.”
Joel nodded, but you could tell he was still struggling to accept that. His gaze fell back to Rosie, his expression softening as he watched her sleep so peacefully, oblivious to the storm of emotions swirling around her parents.
“She’s everything,” Joel murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life.” He smiled and looked at you for a moment “Well, after you.”
A warmth spread through you at Joel’s words, his soft smile disarming in a way that always managed to pull you in, no matter the weight of the world outside. You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. In moments like this, it was easy to forget the pain, the loss, and everything you had both endured to get here.
“Well,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as your fingers gently brushed Rosie’s tiny hand, “you have good taste.”
Joel chuckled softly, the sound low and comforting. It was rare to hear him laugh these days, and when it happened, it felt like a small victory against the darkness that so often consumed him. He looked at you again, his eyes full of affection, and for a brief moment, the guilt and weight he carried seemed to ease.
“You both deserve better,” he said quietly, the smile fading just a little, as the seriousness returned to his voice. “I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure you have it.”
You shook your head slightly, your hand still resting on his arm. “Joel, you’ve already given us everything that matters. We’re here, together. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
His eyes softened at your words, and he swallowed hard, as if trying to push down the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. “I don’t know how you do it,” he whispered, almost as if he were speaking to himself. “How you still see good in me after everything I’ve done.”
You leaned in closer, your hand moving to cup his cheek, guiding his gaze back to yours. “Because I know who you are, Joel. I know your heart. Everything you’ve done.
He let out a long breath, his jaw tightening for a moment before relaxing under your touch. “I hope you’re right,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours as if seeking reassurance.
“I am,” you said firmly, your thumb gently stroking his cheek. “You’re a good man, Joel. Rosie and I are lucky to have you.”
For a moment, he just looked at you, the flicker of doubt in his eyes slowly giving way to something softer, something more certain. He leaned in and kissed you, his lips gentle but full of emotion, as though trying to convey everything he couldn’t say with words.
When he pulled back, there was a quiet resolve in his eyes. “I’ll never stop tryin’ to be better for you. For her.”
“You already are,” you whispered, your heart full as you rested your forehead against his.
In the quiet of the night, with Rosie’s steady breathing filling the space between you, it felt like—despite everything—the world had given you something precious. Something worth fighting for.
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The next morning, sunlight filtered through the small window of your bedroom, casting a warm glow over the room. The remnants of last night's conversation lingered in the air, but today felt different—lighter somehow. There was a sense of normalcy that hadn't been present for months.
You woke up to the sound of soft baby coos coming from Rosie’s crib. Blinking your eyes open, you smiled as you watched her tiny hands wave in the air, her chubby cheeks flushed with the early morning light. She was your world, and seeing her safe and content filled you with a quiet peace.
Joel stirred beside you, his arm still loosely wrapped around your waist. It was rare for him to sleep in this late, but after everything, it was no surprise he needed the rest. You gently slipped out from under his arm, careful not to wake him, and padded over to Rosie. Her wide eyes looked up at you as you picked her up, her little body warm and soft against yours.
“Good morning, baby girl,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She gurgled in response, her hands reaching for your face, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly.
You took your time feeding her, sitting by the window and watching the town of Jackson slowly come to life. The quiet streets were starting to bustle with activity as people moved about, tending to their duties within the community. It still amazed you sometimes—the sense of order and peace here, despite everything the world had become.
Jackson had become home, and though the scars of the past were still healing, there was a strange comfort in the routine of it all. Maria had been incredibly kind, offering you a place in the community and even helping you when Rosie was born. She had become a friend, and in many ways, a guiding force in these new chapters of your life.
As you dressed Rosie for the day, Joel finally stirred from the bed, sitting up with a groan. He rubbed his eyes, still clearly tired, but there was a soft smile on his face when he looked over at you and Rosie.
“Mornin',” he said, his voice rough from sleep.
“Morning,” you replied, walking over with Rosie in your arms. Joel reached out, gently taking her from you, and held her close, pressing a kiss to her tiny head. You watched as his entire demeanor softened in her presence, the way it always did. He’d always been protective, but since he returned, there was something deeper, a sense of devotion that went beyond just survival.
“You sleep, okay?” you asked, sitting down beside him.
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “Better than I have in a while.”
You smiled at that, glad that he was finally starting to find some peace. “Good.”
Joel shifted his focus back to Rosie, his fingers tracing little patterns on her arm. “Ellie’s probably out there already,” he muttered, glancing towards the window. “Kid doesn’t know how to take it easy.”
You chuckled softly. “That’s Ellie for you.”
After a few more moments of quiet, Joel handed Rosie back to you and stood, stretching his arms with a grunt. “I’ll go find her, make sure she’s not causing too much trouble.”
You smiled at him, watching as he pulled on his boots and threw on his jacket. Before leaving, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll see you later,” he murmured.
“See you,” you replied, watching him disappear out the door.
Just as Joel reached for the door, ready to head out, a sharp knock echoed through the small house. His hand froze on the doorknob, and he exchanged a quick glance with you, his brows furrowed in slight confusion. It was early, and few people usually came by without warning.
Joel opened the door cautiously, his posture tense, ready for anything—old habits that hadn’t quite left him despite the relative safety of Jackson. Standing on the other side of the threshold was a man Joel hadn’t seen before—tall, with a calm but confident demeanor. He was holding a bag slung over his shoulder, the kind you’d expect a doctor to carry.
Joel’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you?” he asked, his voice guarded, suspicion still lacing his tone even though the man seemed harmless enough.
The stranger smiled politely, though there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes. He glanced over Joel’s shoulder for a moment before responding. “We didn’t have the chance to meet before you left,” he said, his voice calm but measured. “I’m Paul. I’m the doctor here. Helped deliver Rosie while you were… gone.”
At the mention of Rosie, Joel’s expression shifted, though his guarded stance didn’t relax completely. The words carried weight, and though Paul’s tone was professional, Joel didn’t miss the subtle undertone that lingered in the air—one that said Paul had been there, playing a part in your life during his absence.
Before Joel could say anything, you appeared behind him, Rosie still nestled against your chest in the sling. Paul’s eyes flicked toward you, his expression softening for a moment, but the tension between you two was palpable. Your shoulders stiffened, your demeanor guarded and cool, the remnants of your last conversation with him still fresh in your mind.
Paul nodded slightly in your direction. “Morning,” he greeted, though his tone lacked the warmth it once held.
You gave a short nod in response, your voice clipped. “Morning.”
Joel’s eyes darted between the two of you, immediately picking up on the tension. His jaw clenched as he studied Paul, piecing together the unspoken dynamic that was hanging heavy in the air.
“So, you’re the one who delivered Rosie,” Joel said, his voice tight, though he managed to keep his tone neutral. He didn’t know the details, but something about Paul’s presence seemed to rub him the wrong way.
Paul nodded, though his gaze lingered on you for a moment before shifting back to Joel. “Yes. I was just doing my job—helping out where I could.”
Joel’s expression hardened at the subtle implication in Paul’s words, but he didn’t rise to it. He simply crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes locking onto Paul’s with a quiet intensity. “Well, we’re grateful,” he said, his voice low, but there was no mistaking the edge to his tone.
Paul, sensing the unspoken challenge in Joel’s words, shifted his weight slightly. He was used to navigating the delicate lines of life in Jackson, and he had expected this moment ever since Joel had returned. Still, it was clear that whatever he had with you—whatever connection might have developed during Joel’s absence—wasn’t something either of you had wanted to acknowledge out loud.
“I just wanted to stop by and check on Rosie,” Paul said, his voice more professional now, though the tension in the air was still thick. “Make sure everything’s going well.”
“She’s fine,” you answered, your voice a little too sharp. “Healthy and strong.”
Paul gave a tight-lipped smile, glancing at the baby for a brief second before looking back at you. “I’m glad to hear it.”
There was a brief silence, the air between the three of you charged with unspoken words. Joel, standing protectively in the doorway, hadn’t moved an inch, his presence a wall between you and Paul. He may not have known everything that transpired during his absence, but it was clear he didn’t like the familiarity in the way Paul looked at you.
Finally, Paul cleared his throat, sensing he wasn’t welcome to linger any longer. “Well, if you need anything—medically, I mean—don’t hesitate to let me know,” he said, his tone polite but distant now.
Joel gave a slow nod, stepping forward just enough to send the message loud and clear. “We won’t,” he said, his voice low and firm.
Paul hesitated for a brief second before nodding in return. “Alright then,” he said, his eyes flicking to you one last time before turning and walking away, his figure retreating down the path that led back into town.
The door clicked shut as Joel closed it behind him, his broad shoulders tense. He turned back to you, his eyes searching your face for an explanation, though he didn’t say anything at first. The silence hung between you for a moment, thick with unspoken questions.
You sighed, shifting Rosie in the sling as you glanced at Joel. “We used to get along” you said quietly, though you knew that wasn’t nearly the whole story. “He’s just been… around.”
Joel’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t press further, at least not now. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly still working through the emotions that Paul’s presence had stirred in him. “Yeah,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you. “Seems like it.”
But Joel didn’t push the subject. Instead, he looked at you—really looked at you—and softened. “You okay?” he asked, his voice gentler now, his protective instincts kicking in.
You nodded, offering him a small smile. “I’m fine, Joel,” you reassured him. “I’ve got everything I need right here.”
Joel’s expression softened at your words, and without another word, he stepped closer, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his chest, Rosie nestled between you. Whatever tension Paul had stirred, it was fading in the warmth of Joel’s embrace.
“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice a quiet promise. “So do I.”
Joel pressed a kiss to the top of your head before pulling away, his eyes searching yours as if making sure you were really okay. “I’ll go find Ellie,” he said softly. “We’ll catch up later.”
You nodded, appreciating the space he was giving you to process everything. “Okay. See you later.”
He gave you one last look, his eyes full of unspoken promises, and then he left the house, heading toward town. With Rosie still nestled against your chest, you decided it was time to get moving too. There was work to be done, and you needed to meet Maria.
As you stepped outside into the cool morning air, the town of Jackson bustled quietly around you. It was early, but people were already up, tending to chores, patrolling the perimeter, and preparing for the day. The sense of community here was something that still amazed you. After all the chaos of the world outside, this felt almost like a slice of peace.
You made your way toward the main square, where you knew Maria and Tommy were likely to be. As you walked, you spotted Maria near the stables, talking with a couple of people from the patrol team. Tommy was beside her, nodding along, his expression serious. It looked like they were discussing something important.
You approached them quietly, not wanting to interrupt. Maria glanced up first, her eyes softening when she saw you approaching with Rosie. “Hey,” she called out with a warm smile. “How are my two favorite girls?”
You smiled back, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “We’re good,” you replied, adjusting Rosie in the sling. “Joel just left to find Ellie.”
Maria’s smile faltered for a brief second as she exchanged a glance with Tommy, who cleared his throat and stepped forward.
“Actually, I was just about to head over and talk to Joel,” Tommy said, his tone thoughtful. He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly weighing something in his mind.
“About what?” you asked, your curiosity piqued.
Tommy hesitated, looking at Maria as if seeking confirmation. She gave him a small nod, and he turned back to you. “We’ve been talking about bringing him more into the fold here,” Tommy said, his voice cautious but sincere. “My brother’s a survivor, a leader, he’s got experience we could use. We were going to see if he’d be interested in helping out with the patrols.”
You blinked, processing what Tommy was saying. You hadn’t had much time to think about what Joel’s place in the community would be now that he was back. He’d barely had time to settle in, but you knew him—knew that staying idle wasn’t something he could do for long. He needed purpose, especially after everything that had happened with Ellie.
You blinked, trying to absorb Tommy’s words. Joel had only just returned, and the idea of him immediately taking on more responsibilities—especially something as dangerous as patrols—made your chest tighten with worry. But deep down, you knew Tommy was right. Joel was never the type to sit on the sidelines. He needed a purpose, something to focus on, especially after all he’d been through with Ellie.
Still, it didn’t stop the flicker of unease that crept up your spine. After months apart, the thought of him being out there again, facing potential danger, was difficult to process.
“Patrols?” you asked, your voice cautious. “Isn’t that a bit… soon?”
Tommy looked down for a second, nodding as though he understood your concern. “Yeah, it is soon,” he admitted. “But Joel’s always been a natural leader. He knows how to handle himself, and frankly, we need people like him. Things have been good here, but we can’t get complacent.”
Maria, standing beside Tommy, placed a comforting hand on his arm before turning her gaze to you. “We wouldn’t throw him into anything too heavy right away,” she reassured. “He could start small—short patrols, nothing far from Jackson. But Tommy’s right. Joel’s experience could really help. Plus…” She trailed off, her eyes softening. “It might be good for him. To feel like he’s contributing again.”
You swallowed hard, glancing down at Rosie in your arms. She was still sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the adult worries surrounding her. You wanted nothing more than to protect this little bubble of safety you’d found—Joel’s return, Rosie’s birth, the stability of Jackson. But you also knew Joel, knew he wasn’t the type of man to sit back and let others take risks for him. He’d need to be out there, to feel useful again.
“I understand,” you said quietly, glancing back at Maria and Tommy. “It’s just… after everything, I worry.”
Tommy’s expression softened, and he took a step closer. “I get it. Believe me, I do. He’s my brother. I don’t want him out there if he’s not ready either. But I also know Joel. He’s got that look in his eyes again, like he’s ready to do something. We’ll ease him into it. I promise.”
Maria nodded in agreement. “We’ll keep him close at first. Small tasks. He’s got a family now, and we know that changes things. We’re not going to put him in unnecessary danger.”
You let out a slow breath, nodding. You trusted Maria and Tommy, but it was still hard to think about Joel going back out there, even in a limited capacity.
“I’ll talk to him,” you finally said, your voice steady but laced with emotion. “See how he feels about it.”
Tommy smiled, relieved that you were open to the idea. “Thanks. That’s all we ask. Just see how he’s doing. We won’t rush him into anything.”
“Yeah, and we’ll make sure he’s not doing too much too fast,” Maria added. “We want him here with you and Rosie.”
Her words helped ease the knot of anxiety that had formed in your chest. You knew they meant well, and they were right—Joel would need to find his place in the community sooner or later. He wasn’t the type to stay idle, and if this was a way for him to regain some sense of normalcy, then maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing.
“Okay,” you said, offering them both a small smile. “I’ll talk to him when he gets back.”
Maria reached out and gave your arm a reassuring squeeze. “Thank you. We’re all in this together. And whatever happens, you’ve got our support.”
Tommy nodded, giving you a grateful smile before glancing off toward the direction Joel had gone. “I’ll head out soon and find him, have a quick chat.”
Maria gave you a warm smile, her eyes brightening a little as she mentioned the event. “Oh, and remember—we’ve got that little spring party tonight.” She glanced at Rosie and then back at you, a playful glint in her eyes. “It’s just a small gathering, but it might be a nice chance to get out for a bit. You and Joel could use some time to unwind, you know?”
You felt a small smile tug at your lips, though part of you felt unsure. A party, even a small one, seemed like such a foreign idea after everything that had happened. Still, it might be good for both of you—especially Joel—to spend some time around the community, easing back into this new life.
“I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down at Rosie, who was still peacefully asleep. “We’ll see how Rosie does today. I don’t want to push her too much.”
Maria nodded, completely understanding. “Of course. No pressure. But if you can make it, even for a little while, it might be good for you two. There’ll be food, music—something light to take our minds off things for a bit.” She smiled gently, knowing how much everyone could use a distraction in these times.
You nodded, appreciating her thoughtfulness. “I’ll talk to Joel about it,” you said. “Maybe we’ll stop by for a little while.”
Maria gave you a quick nod. “That’s all we ask. It’s more about getting everyone together and sharing some moments, you know?” She gave a quick wave, then turned and headed back toward the stables.
As you returned to the house, the thought of the spring party lingered in your mind. It had been so long since you’d even thought about anything remotely festive, and a part of you longed for that sense of normalcy, even if just for a few hours. Maybe it was exactly what you and Joel needed—a chance to reconnect, to feel like a part of this world again, rather than just surviving day to day.
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As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over Jackson, you and Joel bundled Rosie in her little blanket and made your way to the spring party. The sounds of laughter and music began to fill the air as you approached, and the sight of string lights flickering overhead created a cozy, inviting atmosphere.
Ellie was already there, bouncing on her toes with excitement as she spotted you. “You made it!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up with joy. She rushed over, throwing her arms around you. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t come!”
“Yeah, well, we thought we’d stop by for a bit,” you replied, a smile breaking across your face. “How’s the party so far?”
“It’s awesome! They have all kinds of food, and they set up games over there!” Ellie pointed enthusiastically to a group of kids gathered around a makeshift ring toss. “Come on! You have to try it!”
Joel shifted beside you, looking a little uncertain as he surveyed the crowd. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he glanced around as if trying to find a safe spot. It was understandable; he’d been out of this world for so long, and while Jackson had been a haven for you, it was still new territory for him.
You squeezed his hand gently, your fingers intertwining with his as you leaned in closer. “It’s okay,” you whispered softly, catching his eye. “Just take it one step at a time. We’re in this together.”
He looked down at you, his expression softening as a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Yeah, okay,” he replied, his voice steadying as he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze in return. The warmth of his touch grounded you, reminding you that despite the chaos of the world outside, you had each other.
As you moved further into the party, the inviting scents of grilled meat and baked goods filled the air, and the lively chatter began to wash over you like a warm wave. People were mingling, laughter echoed around, and for a moment, it felt like life could be normal again.
Ellie dashed off to join Dina, and you and Joel found a spot near the food table. A couple of the neighbors waved at you, smiles on their faces, and you waved back, feeling the warmth of community wash over you.
“See? Not so bad,” you said, nudging Joel gently.
He nodded slowly, but you could still see the wariness in his eyes. “Just… takes some getting used to,” he admitted, his gaze flickering over the crowd.
“Want something to eat?” you asked, trying to keep the mood light. “They have a ton of options, and I think I saw some pie over there.”
Joel chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You and your sweet tooth,” he teased, and that made you smile wider. “You sure you want me to go get it?”
“Why not?” you replied playfully, nudging him again. “It’ll give you a chance to stretch your legs. And I could use some pie—just to fuel me for the games later!”
He let out a small laugh and finally relented, giving you a nod. “Alright, I’ll grab something. Just stay close, okay?”
“Always,” you said, watching him head toward the food table. As he walked away, you felt a swell of affection for him. Despite the uncertainty, he was making the effort, and that meant the world to you.
You moved over to a nearby group of friends who were chatting and laughing, trying to embrace the festive atmosphere. You exchanged pleasantries, laughter bubbling up as stories were shared, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to forget about the outside world.
A few minutes later, Joel returned with a plate of food in one hand and a slice of pie in the other. He had a small smile on his face, and you felt a rush of happiness at the sight. He’d found a little comfort in this gathering, and that made everything worth it.
“Got your pie,” he said, handing it to you with a flourish, and you beamed up at him.
“Thank you, sir!” you replied playfully, taking the plate from him. You took a bite, letting the sweetness fill your mouth, and couldn’t help but moan a little at the deliciousness.
Joel chuckled, shaking his head at your exaggerated response. “You really do love that stuff,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with warmth.
You leaned closer, your heart full as you whispered, “You love me for it.”
He smiled, that genuine smile that reached his eyes. “Yeah, I reckon I do.”
As you savored the slice of pie, Maria and Tommy approached, their faces glowing with the warmth of the gathering.
“Hey there!” Maria called out, waving as she made her way over. “Looks like you two are having a good time!”
“Just indulging in some pie,” you replied, grinning. “Can’t resist a good dessert.”
Tommy chuckled, glancing over at Joel. “Looks like you’re fitting in pretty well, brother,” he said, giving Joel a playful nudge.
Joel shrugged, but the small smile on his face gave him away. “Tryin’,” he replied, looking around the festive scene.
Maria’s eyes sparkled as she looked at Ellie, who was bouncing on her toes. “Are you ready to play some games, Ellie? I think they set up a scavenger hunt over there.”
Ellie’s eyes widened with excitement. “Yes! Come on, let’s go!” Without waiting for a response, she dashed off toward the games, clearly eager to participate.
“Hey, wait up!” you called after her, laughing as you turned to Joel. “I guess we’re off to the races!”
“Go on,” Joel said, his voice a mix of encouragement and amusement. “I’ll keep an eye on Rosie. You go have fun.”
“Are you sure?” you asked, glancing down at Rosie, who was nestled peacefully in the blanket.
“Yeah, I got this,” he assured you, his tone firm yet gentle. “You enjoy yourself. I’ll be right here.”
You felt a flutter of gratitude and affection in your chest. “Okay, I’ll be back in a bit,” you promised, leaning down to place a soft kiss on Rosie’s head before you turned to join Ellie, Maria, and Tommy.
As you made your way toward the games, you could hear laughter and cheers ringing out, the atmosphere buzzing with energy. The kids had gathered around a makeshift obstacle course set up with old tires, rope swings, and a small climbing wall, and Ellie was at the front, explaining the rules with fervor.
“Okay, everyone! You have to complete the course and grab a prize at the end!” she shouted, her enthusiasm infectious.
You joined the group, cheering on the kids as they took turns navigating the course. The competitive spirit ignited, and soon you found yourself swept up in the fun, encouraging everyone to give it their best shot.
As you laughed and cheered with the kids, completely absorbed in the games, Joel’s mood began to shift. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Paul standing with a group of friends, but what caught his attention was the way Paul kept glancing in your direction, a subtle smile on his face.
Joel's jaw tightened, and the familiar surge of protective instinct kicked in. His mind raced, and those nagging voices from his past began to creep in, planting seeds of doubt and jealousy. He couldn't shake the feeling, even though he knew better. He turned toward Tommy, his voice low and edged with frustration.
“That guy, Paul,” Joel muttered, not bothering to mask the irritation in his tone. “What’s the deal with him? Why is he looking at my woman like that? Something happen between them or what?”
Tommy’s eyes widened in surprise at Joel’s bluntness, and Maria, who was standing beside them, gave Joel a look of disbelief. “Joel,” Maria said slowly, her voice firm but calm, “you’re overthinking things.”
Tommy raised his eyebrows, clearly taken aback by Joel’s sudden shift in attitude. “What the hell, man?” he asked, keeping his voice down so others wouldn’t hear. “Do you think she was enjoying your absence when you were gone?”
Joel clenched his fists at his sides, his gaze flicking back toward Paul, who was still casually chatting with his friends, seemingly unaware of the storm brewing in Joel’s mind. “Then why’s he smilin’ at her like that?” Joel pressed, his voice laced with a mix of jealousy and insecurity he hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Joel,” Tommy said, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice, “you need to chill. Paul is just friendly. He’s trying to make everyone feel welcome here.”
Maria stepped in, trying to defuse the situation. “Listen, Joel, you’re back now. That’s what matters. You have to trust her.
Joel's jaw tightened, “I trust her, not him”. the protective instinct surging within him. He couldn’t help but think about the time he’d spent away from you, the emptiness that had consumed him during those months. The thought of someone else trying to fill that void made his stomach churn. “I just don’t like how he’s looking at her,” Joel muttered, the frustration evident in his voice.
“You were just implying she had something with him when you were gone” Tommy recalled, clearly mad at his brother.
You approached the table, your heart sinking as you overheard the tension in their conversation. The mention of Paul sent a jolt of unease through you, and you felt your stomach twist. Joel's protectiveness, while understandable, was beginning to feel suffocating.
“Are you really implying that I had something with him?” you interjected, your voice steady but laced with disbelief. The three of them turned to you, surprise evident on their faces. Joel’s expression shifted from irritation to concern, his eyes widening at the realization of how his words had come across.
“No, I—” Joel started, but you raised a hand to stop him, your gaze firmly fixed on him.
“I heard it” You took a deep breath, trying to remain calm.
You reached out and gently took Rosie from Joel's arms, cradling her against you as if she were a shield from the growing tension. The moment your daughter nestled against you, her small weight grounding you, you felt a surge of emotion.
“Look, Joel,” you said, your voice a mix of frustration and hurt, “I know you’re protective. I get that. But you’re making this harder than it needs to be.” You glanced down at Rosie, brushing your thumb against her tiny cheek. “I can’t have you doubting me or our family because of some guy who-“
“Who what?” he pleaded, urging to you to say something.  
“I’m going home” you said.
The words hung in the air between you, sharp and sudden. You could see the flicker of surprise in Joel's eyes, his mouth opening slightly as if he were about to protest, to argue, but you raised a hand to stop him.
“Don’t,” you said, your voice steady but trembling with the weight of your emotions. “Just… don’t.”
His jaw clenched as he watched you, the realization of what you meant beginning to sink in. “You’re seriously gonna walk out on me over this?” he asked, disbelief coloring his tone.
“I’m not walking out on you, Joel,” you replied, your heart racing. “I’m walking away from this moment. I need some air. I need to think.”
“Think about what? About me? About us?” His voice was low, laced with urgency, but there was a desperation in his eyes that made your heart ache. “You can’t just leave like this.”
“I can, and I will,” you said, your voice firm despite the tears that threatened to spill over. “I don’t want to fight, especially not in front of Rosie. It’s not fair to her or to us.”
He took a step closer, his expression shifting from disbelief to concern. “You know I didn’t mean it like that,” he said softly, his tone pleading now.
I hear what Tommy said, and if you thought that low of me...My baby needs to rest, goodbye" you say to maria and tommy and glance at joel for the last time before leaving.
With a heavy heart, you turned away, clutching Rosie closer to your chest as you made your way toward the exit. Each step felt like a weight pressing down on you, but you couldn’t stay in the atmosphere filled with unspoken words and tension.
As you walked past Maria and Tommy, you managed a tight smile, trying to keep it together for the sake of your daughter. “Take care of him,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You could feel their worried gazes on your back as you continued onward.
“Wait!” Joel called out, but you didn’t turn around. You could hear the urgency in his voice, the underlying desperation, but you needed this space to breathe, to process everything that had just happened.
The cool air hit your face as you stepped outside, the sounds of laughter and festivities fading into the background. You walked a short distance away, finding a quiet spot where you could gather your thoughts without the weight of Joel’s piercing gaze on you.
Once you were alone, you let out a shaky breath, feeling the tears finally spill over as you sank down onto a nearby bench. Rosie stirred in your arms, and you gently rocked her, humming softly to soothe her. She was your anchor in this chaotic world, a reminder of the love that had once felt so solid between you and Joel.
“Why does it have to be so hard?” you murmured to Rosie, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand. “I just want us to be happy.”
"You're just made to be a lover" tommy spoke to Joel.
The moment Tommy’s words reached Joel’s ears, they hung in the air, echoing with a weight that only added to his frustration. “What do you mean by that?” Joel snapped, turning to his brother, his eyes narrowing in irritation.
Tommy raised his hands in a placating gesture, his expression a mix of sympathy and understanding. “I mean, look at you. You care so much about her. You always have. But sometimes, it seems like you’re letting your fears get in the way of that love.”
Joel’s jaw clenched as he ran a hand through his hair, clearly wrestling with the truth in Tommy’s words. “You think I don’t love her?” he shot back, though the defensiveness in his voice felt more like a shield against his own vulnerability.
Tommy took a step closer, lowering his voice to a calmer tone. “No, I’m saying you love her too much to let your insecurities ruin it. She’s been through a lot. She spent the last time of the pregnancy alone; she gave birth alone and you came here and implied that of her?”
“I didn’t.” Joel defended himself.
“You did, Joel,” Tommy said, frustration creeping into his voice. “You made it sound like she might’ve been unfaithful while you were gone. That’s not fair to her, especially after everything she’s been through.”
Joel’s face fell, the weight of Tommy’s words hitting him hard. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his voice low and shaky. “I just… I can’t help but feel like I missed so much. I’m scared of losing her to someone else. I’ve already lost so much.”
“I get that,” Tommy replied, his tone softening. “But the way you said it? That’s not the way to show her you care. She needs you to be her rock, not a source of doubt.”
Joel clenched his fists, battling the feelings of guilt and fear that churned inside him. “I’m trying, man. It’s just hard. I spent so long thinking about her, and now I see this guy looking at her, and I can’t help but feel…”
“Jealous?” Tommy interjected. “Protective? Whatever it is, you’ve got to channel that into something positive. You don’t want to drive her away now that you’re reunited.”
“Go and talk to her before I broke your nose” maria interfered.
Joel turned to Maria, surprise flickering in his eyes. He could see the concern etched on her face, and it reminded him of just how much he had to lose if he didn’t get this right.
“Maria, I—” he started, but she shook her head, cutting him off.
“No more excuses, Joel,” she said firmly. “You need to go to her now. Don’t let your fears ruin what you’ve fought so hard to get back. Go!”
With her encouraging shove, Joel felt a surge of urgency wash over him. He glanced at Tommy, who nodded in silent support, and then turned to make his way through the gathering crowd, his heart pounding in his chest.
He arrived at home and scanned the living room for you, his eyes darting between the furniture and spotted you, sitting on the sofa with Rosie in your arms. The sight of you made his heart ache, how beautiful you looked, but how pained your expression seemed as you cradled their daughter.
Taking a deep breath, he approached, and as he got closer, he could see the small frown on your face. It felt like a kick to the gut. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
You looked up, with a guarded expression. “Joel,” you replied, your tone cool but not entirely dismissive.
“I, uh… I wanted to talk,” he said, his hands instinctively moving to his hips as he tried to figure out how to say what was in his heart. “About what I said earlier.”
You glanced down at Rosie, who had just started to stir, and then back up at him, your expression a mixture of hurt and uncertainty. “What’s there to say?” you asked, your voice steady but laced with emotion.
He took a deep breath, stepping closer but maintaining a respectful distance. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I let my jealousy get the best of me.” He glanced down, his brow furrowing. “I shouldn’t have implied that you were unfaithful.”
Your heart ached at the sincerity in his voice, but the hurt still lingered. “You know how hard it was for me, right? I felt so alone while you were gone. I just wanted to believe everything would be okay when you returned.”
“I get that,” Joel replied, his gaze earnest as he stepped closer. “But it doesn’t excuse my behavior. You were strong while I was away.”
Your breath caught as you prepared to open up, knowing the conversation was far from over. “Joel, while you were gone… things were hard, really hard,” you began, glancing down at Rosie in your arms. The memories of those lonely nights came rushing back, and it took everything in you to keep your voice steady. “Paul… he tried to twist things, make me believe I couldn’t do this on my own. That being a mother, without you, was too much for me.”
Joel’s face tightened, his fists balling at his sides as he absorbed your words. “What are you saying?” His voice was strained, his eyes searching yours for an explanation.
“He never said anything outright, but he was always there, trying to plant seeds of doubt,” you continued, looking down at Rosie as you spoke. “He made it seem like you weren’t coming back, that you couldn’t. He’d say things like, ‘You’re strong, but no one can do this alone,’ or that maybe you’d forgotten about us out there.”
Joel’s expression darkened, the anger simmering beneath the surface, though you could tell he was fighting to keep himself in check. “He said that?”
You nodded. “It was subtle, but it was enough to make me question myself. I think part of me confused the help he was giving with something more. Like maybe, for a second, I thought he was being a friend.” You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to keep going. “But that wasn’t real. I was vulnerable, and he knew it. I was just trying to survive without you, to raise Rosie, to keep going. But I never wanted him, Joel.”
Joel’s shoulders slumped; the tension still present but mixed now with sorrow. He ran a hand over his face, clearly trying to process everything. “So, he tried to make you believe I wasn’t coming back,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. “I hate that he did that. But I hate even more that you had to go through that alone.”
You sighed, feeling the weight of those lonely months lift just a little, now that the truth was out in the open. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to make it worse or seem like I was giving up on you. But it’s why I reacted the way I did tonight. When you questioned me like that… it brought back all those fears.”
You stood up, your heart still heavy but feeling lighter than it had in days. As you carefully laid Rosie down in her crib, her tiny chest rising and falling peacefully, you felt a moment of calm settle over you. The room was quiet, but you could feel Joel’s gaze on you, filled with regret and turmoil.
You turned back to him, hoping that this moment of truth between you had brought you closer. But as you met his eyes, you could see the storm of emotions still brewing within him. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in the tense lines of his body.
Before you could say anything, Joel abruptly turned and walked toward the door.
“Joel?” you called softly, your voice uncertain.
But he didn’t stop. He reached for the doorknob and stepped outside without a word. You hurried after him, calling his name a little louder this time. “Joel, wait!”
By the time you reached the door, he was already halfway down the path, heading back toward the party. You stood at the threshold, the cool night air brushing against your skin, watching as he disappeared into the distance.
Joel marched back toward the party, his footsteps heavy with frustration and unresolved tension. The festive atmosphere was still buzzing with laughter and music, a stark contrast to the storm swirling in his mind. He pushed through the crowd, his eyes scanning for Paul. There was an urgency in his stride, a need to confront the gnawing feeling that had been eating away at him.
When he finally spotted Paul, standing near a group of people by the makeshift bar, Joel’s jaw clenched. The doctor was casually sipping from a glass, laughing at something someone had said, unaware of the brewing confrontation.
Joel approached him, his body tense, his eyes locked onto Paul. As he drew near, the noise of the party seemed to fade into the background, his focus narrowing entirely on this one man. Paul looked up, his smile faltering slightly when he noticed Joel’s intense expression.
“Hey, Joel,” Paul greeted him, his tone friendly but cautious. “Didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”
Joel didn’t waste any time. “We need to talk,” he said, his voice low and steady, but there was a dangerous edge to it. The kind that made everyone around them take a step back, sensing the tension.
Paul raised an eyebrow, clearly confused but trying to keep things light. “About what?”
Joel took a step closer, his gaze unwavering. “About what you said to her. About the things you’ve been puttin’ in her head.”
Paul blinked, his confusion deepening. “What are you talking about? I’ve only ever tried to help—”
“Help?” Joel cut him off, his voice growing sharper. “You think telling her she couldn’t do it on her own, that she needed someone else—needed you—is helpin’?”
Paul’s expression shifted, the easygoing smile he usually wore fading into something more serious. “Joel, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just trying to offer support. She was struggling, and I—”
“I don’t need you explainin’ what she needed,” Joel interrupted again, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for her. She’s stronger than you give her credit for you don’t know what she’s capable of.”
Paul held up his hands in a placating gesture, clearly trying to defuse the situation. “Look, I was just trying to be there for her. You weren’t around, and she—”
“And that’s what I’m here for now,” Joel growled, stepping even closer until he was right in Paul’s face. “I don’t care what you thought you were doin’. Stay away from her from my girl.”
“She is your girl, but you abandoned when she was pregnant?” Paul chuckled.
“I didn’t.” Joel replied.
“Oh, come on man, I even know your daughter better than you do”
Joel’s fists clenched tighter, his entire body going rigid at Paul’s words. The implication that Paul knew his own daughter better than he did cut deeper than he’d expected. His breath came out in harsh, shallow bursts as he stepped even closer to Paul, their faces inches apart.
“You don’t know anything about me or my family,” Joel growled, his voice dangerously low. “Don’t act like you were doin’ me a favor. You think you stepped up? You think you know her? You don’t know what we’ve been through.”
Paul didn’t back down, though his face remained calm. “I was there when you weren’t, Joel. She needed someone, and I was the one who made sure she didn’t go through it alone. I’m not trying to make this harder for you, but you have to accept that things changed while you were gone. She changed. She had to.”
Joel’s chest tightened, the guilt he had been fighting against all night rising to the surface. He knew Paul wasn’t entirely wrong—he had been gone, and she had faced some of the hardest moments of her life without him. But the thought of someone else filling that space, being there when he couldn’t, made his blood boil.
“You don’t get to play that card,” Joel bit out, his voice trembling with barely contained fury. “You think just because you were there for a few months, that makes you more important to her than I am? I’ve known her longer than you ever will. And Rosie? She’s my daughter.”
Paul’s calm demeanor shifted slightly, a smirk playing on his lips as he crossed his arms. “You know, Joel,” he said, his tone infuriatingly smug, “maybe she deserves someone who was actually there for her. Someone who can protect her and Rosie. A real man.”
Joel’s breath hitched, his pulse pounding in his ears. Those words—a real man—echoed in his mind like a trigger, striking at every fear and insecurity he had buried deep down. His hands shook with the effort it took not to lash out right then and there.
“Watch your mouth,” Joel growled, his voice dangerously low, his fists twitching at his sides. He could feel the rage simmering just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over. “You don’t get to talk about what she deserves.”
Paul didn’t flinch. If anything, he seemed to grow more confident, feeding off Joel’s rising anger. “But I am talking about it. Because I care about her, Joel. I care about Rosie. Maybe more than you do. You think she needs someone like you, someone who’s always running off, disappearing? Maybe she needs stability. Someone who’s here. A real family.”
Joel’s vision tunneled, the sound of blood rushing in his ears. He took a threatening step forward, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with venom. “I swear to God, Paul. You don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about. I was gone because I had to be. To keep her safe. To keep them safe. You’re not part of that. You never will be.”
Paul took a deep breath, stepping closer as if testing Joel’s limits. “Maybe that’s what she’s thinking too. Maybe that’s why she hasn’t said anything to stop me. Maybe she’s realized what a real man looks like.”
Joel snapped.
In one swift movement, he grabbed Paul by the collar, pulling him close. The crowd around them gasped, the festive atmosphere suddenly charged with tension. Joel’s face was inches from Paul’s, his voice a low, menacing growl. “You don’t get to talk about her like that. Ever.”
For a brief moment, it felt like the world held its breath. Paul’s smirk faltered, and for the first time, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face.
Before Joel could take things further, Tommy’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. “Joel! Stop!”
Tommy rushed forward, putting a hand on Joel’s arm and pulling him back, but not without effort. “This ain’t the way, man. Not here. Not like this.”
Joel released his grip on Paul, pushing him back roughly. His chest heaved with the effort to contain his rage; his fists still clenched. He glared at Paul for a long moment, every muscle in his body tense.
Paul straightened his shirt, trying to regain some of his composure, but the smugness was gone, replaced by something else—caution.
“Stay away from my family,” Joel warned, his voice ice-cold. “Or next time, we won’t be talkin’.”
With that, he turned and stormed off, leaving the party behind him, his mind a whirlwind of anger, guilt, and frustration. He had to get away—away from Paul, away from the eyes of the crowd, and away from the fear that maybe, just maybe, Paul had hit a nerve that Joel wasn’t ready to confront.
Tommy caught up to Joel, grabbing him by the arm and steering him toward the house. Joel’s anger was still palpable, his body tense as they walked, the night air doing little to cool his heated emotions.
When they finally reached the door, Tommy let out a sigh, glancing at Joel, who looked like he was ready to explode again at any moment. “Look, I know you’re pissed. But you can’t keep letting this stuff get to you,” Tommy said, his voice firm but compassionate. “Paul ain’t worth it. And neither is risking your family over some nonsense he’s spewing.”
Joel didn’t respond, his jaw tight as he reached for the doorknob. But before he could open it, Tommy stopped him, his tone more serious now. “You need to fix this, Joel. Not just with her, but with yourself. You keep pushing, and you’re gonna lose her. Don’t let that happen.”
Joel glanced at his brother, his expression conflicted, but he nodded slowly, the weight of Tommy’s words sinking in. He pushed open the door, stepping inside.
As they entered, you were sitting in the living room, cradling Rosie as you fed her. The sight of Joel and Tommy walking in together, the tension still hanging in the air, made your eyes widen. You weren’t sure what had happened, but the look on Joel’s face told you that it hadn’t been good.
Tommy shot you an apologetic glance, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I know you and my brother had a fight,” he said, his voice low and cautious, “but please, control him. He’s about ready to knock someone’s head off.”
Your heart sank as you looked at Joel, seeing the storm of emotions swirling behind his eyes. You sighed softly, shifting Rosie in your arms before standing up. “What happened?” you asked quietly, already dreading the answer.
Joel stood there, looking at you, the regret evident in his posture. “Nothin’ good,” he admitted, his voice rough. “I had a word with Paul. It got heated.”
Tommy let out a heavy sigh. “That’s one way of puttin’ it,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Look, I’ll leave you two to talk. But seriously, you both need to figure this out. I’ll be around if you need me.” With that, he gave you a reassuring nod and stepped out, closing the door behind him.
Now, it was just you, Joel, and the unspoken tension filling the room. Rosie cooed softly in your arms, oblivious to the weight of the moment.
“Joel,” you began softly, your voice careful. “What did he say to you?”
Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of frustration and vulnerability. “He said things… things that got under my skin. Made me feel like I’ve been failing you, like he’s been fillin’ in for me. And I just… I lost it.”
You bit your lip, the weight of his words sinking in as you studied his face. Despite the frustration and anger still simmering in him, there was a deep vulnerability beneath it all. Without saying a word, you reached out, taking his hand gently. Joel glanced down at your fingers intertwined with his, and you tugged softly, guiding him toward the sofa.
“Come on,” you whispered, leading him to sit down. Joel hesitated for a second but followed your lead, sinking into the cushions. You could feel his tension, the lingering heat from his encounter with Paul still coursing through him.
Once he was seated, you moved closer, surprising him as you sat down on his lap, your legs on either side of him. You wrapped one arm around his shoulders, your other hand brushing softly through his hair as you settled in. His arms instinctively came up to hold you, though his grip was tentative, as if he were afraid of losing control again.
You leaned in close, your forehead resting gently against his as you spoke softly, “Joel, I need you to hear me. I know you’re angry, and I know you’re hurting, but you don’t have to carry that all by yourself. You’re back and I’m still here. Rosie’s here. Ellie’s here. We’re not going anywhere.”
He looked up at you, his brow furrowed, eyes searching yours for reassurance. “I’m tryin’, but every time I think about what you went through while I wasn’t here…” He trailed off, his voice breaking slightly as the guilt washed over him.
You cupped his face with both hands, forcing him to look directly at you. “You didn’t fail me, Joel. I made it through because I had to—for Rosie, for us. And I’m still here because I want to be with you. But you have to stop letting those fears control you. Paul doesn’t matter. You do. This family does.”
He sighed, his hands tightening slightly around your waist, his body starting to relax just a little under your touch. “I hate feelin’ like I’m not enough. That someone else could step in and—”
“Nobody’s stepping in, Joel,” you interrupted firmly, your voice soft but insistent.  “Nodoby could replace you.”
He leaned his head back against the sofa, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath, as if your words were the first bit of air he’d gotten in hours. You stroked his cheek, your thumb tracing the line of his jaw, trying to soothe the storm within him.
“You have to let this go,” you whispered, leaning in closer, your lips just inches from his. “We’re here. We’re together. And nothing—no one—is going to change that.”
Joel opened his eyes, his gaze locking onto yours, a mixture of relief and lingering vulnerability flashing through them. He reached up, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch soft and reverent. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmured, his voice low and full of emotion.
“You won’t have to find out,” you replied softly, leaning down to press your lips gently against his. The kiss was tender, full of the love and reassurance that words alone couldn’t convey.
As you pulled back slightly, your fingers traced the side of his face, your voice barely above a whisper. “Joel, he will never have the way you have me.” You said, kissing his mouth, hands hiking up his shirt. His hand moved up your back, pulling you closer as if he needed the reassurance that you were right there with him.
The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every moment. You could feel the tension in him slowly dissolving, replaced by something warmer, more certain. His fingers brushed through your hair, his other hand resting gently on your waist, holding you steady as the kiss grew more intense.
“I want you” you whispered against his mouth, then down his jawline, neck collarbone as his hands squeezed your waist as an answer.
“Please, have me” he replied, his voice hoarsed in a whimper.
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persicipen · 30 days ago
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corporal punishment ノ kamisato ayato
₊ ˙ ⊹ . after failing your special shuumatsuban mission against the fatui, there’s nothing left for you but to admit your mistake and return to the kamisato estate. it’s required of you to face the impending punishment for not meeting the necessary perfectionism.
ৎ୭ — · · 2.6k ノ afab gn reader — sponsored through @ficsforgaza project ノ implied light torture . pain kink — reader is into this dynamic ノ spanking . fingering . edging . orgasm ruining ノ not in the spotlight but also mentioned — rope play . bondage ノ ayato is weirdly calm and talkative :3
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You fucked up.
Yes, exactly. No need to sugarcoat or try to explain that it wasn’t as severe of a mistake. The worst that could have happened, in your humble opinion. Escaping alive seemed not a good outcome either, now that the entire plan was ruined; the whole operation stagnated because of your lack of professionalism.
Nibbled by guilt on your way back, you knew that what awaits you in the estate is nothing but a punishment. The Lord Commissioner may be merciful, but after messing up with Fatui, you truly wondered if dying by their hands wouldn’t be better than whatever was planned for your return by the head of the Kamisato clan himself.
The treatment was enough for you to forget how long you have been in the empty room, unsure if it’s still the house or somewhere else in case you wanted to scream for help. The fine wooden floors suggest nothing in particular. Could be anywhere, the secluded part of the residence, or maybe one of the summer houses, mayhaps even a rented place. Irrelevant, because you couldn’t remember how you got wrapped in all of this after your arrival.
So, how long has it been? An hour? Two? Not even one? Impossible to guess. Even more difficult to think when a beautifully carved-out handle of the sword presses so annoyingly to your clit, stiff and angled perfectly to hit you there despite your quivering legs trying to close in time — futile.
A strangled cry escapes your lips. It’s so troublesome to focus on anything but the arousal pulsing through your veins and the heavy scent of blooming camellias that lingers in the air, always following the graceful frame of the Yashiro Commissioner.
He is standing tall and beautiful before you, but his smile is nowhere to be seen. Serious face focused on disciplining his subordinate. The same face that looks down at you every time you kneel before him and slowly sink his cock into your mouth. A reward for being a good servant to the family.
It’s that kind of sternness. Observing your progress, scheduling special trainings, raising you as the shadow to act in his stead — and a good fuck from time to time. One that you don’t deserve right now, because you are a failure, a disgrace who failed a mission and survived only by chance, hoping that others complete the deal with the Fatui scum on their own.
You close your eyes, but the images of the ambush you’ve witnessed play in front of you nonetheless.
A scorching pain that does not soften — the opposite — when the handle of the sword taps between your legs again.
“Now, be so kind and remind me why we are doing this. I was certain we would be past this stage of our relationship after so many years. Tell me, am I wrong? Should we start again from scratch and you will learn to behave? Perhaps you will also remember how to speak.”
His tone is almost sweet, but it only makes you feel even more ashamed than before. A shame so intense it leaves your cheeks hot and wet, tears spilling on their own with no chance for you to stop them.
“My apologies. I know where I did fail. There is no need to— hngh… n-no need for— this… This is not necessary, m-my Lord… please…!”
Your Lord, as you weep, is persistent in circling the tip of the sheathed blade around your clit. It’s as safe as it can get, the blunt polished edge where he usually places his palm to hold the position, but no less brutal to treat you with that instead of his precise fingers or the most divine experience, now properly tucked in his pants so not even a bulge of arousal is visible on the white fabric.
You knew this was going to be bad when you had returned to the estate, yet there was nothing you could do. Standing before him, not by your own strength anymore, but by the ropes holding your body up along the tall wooden column, there was nothing you could have done, the fate inescapable.
Straining against the restraints doesn’t help at all. Even if you succeed, you’ll just fall to your knees on the floor, exposed and humiliated.
“I sincerely hoped there would be no reason for this treatment… Or perhaps I’ve been spoiling you too much? Was that the mistake I made?” He walks around you, unhurried.
You try to look back and follow his steps, but the thick ropes hold your wrists in place. A dull, but constant ache. The position you were put into spreads the same pain in your ankles and shoulders too, legs forced slightly open, enough for you to be compliant when your Lord decides what to do next.
“What I worry about is that if I continue using the same method, you will grow accustomed to it, even start to like it.” He circles you, a wounded prey within his reach. Even smiles whilst adjusting the leather gloves to fit his palms. “A pity to get rid of the beautiful knots already, but they were tied just to exhaust your limbs, specifically. Now, I fear, it’s the time to bring out something more substantial. Something with which you can truly learn from your mistakes… Ah, maybe even improve your endurance. The hard way, as we say.”
“M-my Lord, I’m sorry!”
“You’ll be, that I’m certain of.”
As if to mock your lack of energy, your Lord chooses to release you from the ropes and let you slide to your knees in front of him. For a second there, you evaluate the possibility of escape, but the blood running back to your legs turns into cramps and shivers, rendering you unable to stand or even move an inch.
A small mercy comes in the form of his gloved hand resting on your head. A gentle pat, like a dog, and warm praise.
“Don’t cry now. This is necessary for the sake of your future by my side. Don’t worry, I know your limits.”
Ethereal grace and cold expression on his face as he watches you weep before him. His trousers at last bear the outline of his cock to prove the arousal that you got him under such conditions. Or maybe just his own method to taunt you with what you won’t get this time.
He strokes through your hair, glides down the curve of your spine, following little wrinkles of the clothes that remained on your upper half — what cannot be said about your lower body.
Without further instructions, you push yourself forward to rest your face on the ground, the wood hard but gentle on your cheek. Arch your back so perfectly, present yourself for him, but it’s not enough for him to find a single word of praise at how eager you are. It’s expected of you to obey.
The anticipation ends when the finest leather of his glove reaches your ass, circles around it to elicit little goosebumps in the wake of his touch. Fingers run over the folds of your pussy, further and further down between your legs, too slow, but only because he knows the intense pleasure you’ll experience when he dips into you. Gladly imagining the juices from your wet cunt covering his hand. Alternatively, he’s just doing that to let you know, again, what will not be given to you this time.
The fleeting gentleness ends sharply with a precise swat on your ass. An immediate stinging pain fills the hollow where the flat of his palm struck your flesh and makes you gasp out. And cry.
Your Lord clicks his tongue in annoyance, and then a burdensome weight lands on your back, pressing you into the floor.
You don’t see him, but can smell him when he whispers in your ear.
“Now, now, why the agitation? I am not hurting you. I know well you used to find pleasure in worse pain. And I do not intend to cause you this much distress, simply because there’s a chance the reprimand will have the opposite effect. You wouldn’t want that, would you? For all my effort to go down the drain…”
He breathes out as if the mere thought of reminding you this exhausts him, but despite his words, he stays there, pressing down on you and rubbing the sore spot to ease the stinging sensation. Or tease it further. It is hard to tell.
And yet, you hear your own voice uttering back, “You are right… My apologies. I’ll try to endure it.”
“Good. That’s all I’m asking for.”
The second slap doesn’t come as a surprise. Nor the third. Neither the fourth. They all follow in succession, no rush, and with timid caresses in between, as if to amplify the contrast. Breathing hitched, sometimes twisting away from the weight of his palm on your ass — then scolded, made to present yourself properly again for the Commissioner himself.
He knows your limits, though, and knows what it takes to break you. So, there is no real reason to fear, right? Yet you shiver, and a cold sweat blooms on your skin like the morning dew. He would have been kind enough to make it painless, you hope.
Your Lord removes himself from your back to observe the results. To see the little ripples left behind after the impact. You keep still, trying to catch your breath, but also knowing that your entire silhouette pricks with needles of pain, thighs slick with the moisture leaking from between them.
“How easily your body betrays you…”
Another hit comes so hard you bite your lips not to cry out the most pathetic of mewls.
Instead of the usual, breaking the routine and not calming the flesh, his hand gracefully slides lower, between your cheeks. Pursuing. Invading. It is terrifying and makes your entire body flush hot when he does that, digits pushing against your hole. You never dare to disobey, though, merely whining as his fingertips press in, bluntly yet soft enough not to hurt. The smooth leather makes the little distance between yours and his skin unbearable, taking him further away from you despite his touch sneaking closer, a contradiction that feels like ice — because you cannot stand it, frustrated and hurting, on a brink of pleasure he denies you again.
But you stay still. Bite down the yearning bubbling at the high of your throat, clench around his glove as he presses in and almost breaches the first ring of muscles before pulling out completely away from your cunt.
If it wasn’t for another slap that sends you further into the floor, you’d wish to buckle your hips back, chasing the warmth of his palm. Ayato returns to gently kneading the abused flesh of your ass. The strokes linger longer each time, from the surface up to the cleft between your cheeks, drawing bolder circles that threaten to dip inside.
But no matter how far his hand travels, it always returns to your buttocks. Your skin is hot, sweaty, probably red from all the slaps and squeezing, a small, albeit recurring twinge of pain that spikes each time he lets his fingers slide lower and makes all your muscles tense from your impatience.
You wait for the next blow, but it doesn’t come. What comes instead is a lingering absence of touch. Ayato sits by your side on the floor, head resting in the palm of his hand as if bored.
“On your knees,” he says quietly. “Over my lap.”
Despite being strained, you know not to hesitate. Before the words could have finished escaping his lips, you scramble into position to rest your belly across his legs. His thighs are firm under your belly, his touch warm through the fabric of his pants as he caresses your back with one hand and the curves of your hips with the other.
You must say something, beg for forgiveness, praise him — whatever will grant you the easy way out, unaware that you’re already not thinking straight, because how else would you believe that the Yashiro Commissioner could soften by your pleas.
“I believe you have learnt your lesson,” he says, softer this time, “but just in case…”
“My Lord, I— I did… Ah!” You’re cut off by the touch — expecting another harsh swat — so tenderly reaching between your folds, calming the feverish skin with the cool of his fingertips.
“Hush now. Remember to obey.”
He takes his time to brush over the clit and gently spreads your labia before touching you again. This time not teasing at all. Ayato finds your hole easily and presses inside, sinking inside, deliberately slow, as if wanting to draw it out for as long as possible. Just two digits, but the fit is snug enough to make you shudder in both relief and agony. Finally, finally satiated, yet the granted mercy only deepens your desire, an endless hunger. You start writhing to get closer, albeit the hard cock under your belly only pulses from the attention you’re receiving and does not react to your needy little moans.
A different kind of exposure gets him aroused — not you, but the control he holds over you.
The tightness is eased by your own wetness that coats his fingers. Embarrassingly so, the trickle of fluids inevitably seeps down his wrist as well. The glove still remains on his hand, so all you can feel is the touch of fine leather against your walls, the gentle texture that glides through the moisture. Once again, seeking, invading, precise.
“There we go.”
“My Lord…! My apologies,” you cry, “I will not fail again. I swear it.”
“And I believe in you,” he breathes, barely audible.
His thumb returns to your clit before he pushes deeper inside, pressing so good that you shudder when a long-awaited release washes over you. Too quick and too abrupt, almost painful.
But just like a tidal wave, the pleasure passes as fast as it came, leaving you behind to quiver around his fingers while Ayato strokes your back soothingly. He does not pull out, instead keeps you in place with the stillness of his hand, and you do not dare move despite the settling disappointment that your orgasm got ruined. Your legs shake regardless.
“It’s… That’s all?” You ask, not pretentiously, not demanding, but full of broken hope and despairing, because it cannot be true that all that prolonged torture and tease, and care ends up like this. Like nothing. Like nothing at all.
Ayato sighs deeply, wiping his glove on your thighs. The wetness is sticky on your skin and immediately cold when he leans away to look at you.
“Yes, that is all. A punishment is a punishment. I do hope it won’t be necessary in the future.”
No reprimand follows after. Just a long look, pondering and attentive as always. He tilts his head to the side to assess the results.
“Come closer,” he says after a while.
So, you obey, parting your mouth wide to let him push the still gloved fingers past your teeth. He presses all the way down to your throat and then draws back so you can savour the sweet flavour of your own juices. Ayato holds his digits like that, resting on your tongue until saliva seeps past the corner of your mouth, so he may smear it across your lips.
“Pretty like that, aren’t you? If only you were working harder and completing your missions successfully so that, instead of sitting in this room, we could share my private bedroom. Alas…” He reaches to stroke your cheek, a sweet touch after all the pain. “Please, do not make me repeat myself ever again.”
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₊ ˙ ⊹ . AUTHOR’S NOTE — i really hope this fic isn’t as messy as i think it is… i admit, i could work around the situation itself and flesh out the setting properly, but i didn’t really have enough creative juices within me at the time. i will also be grateful if you excuse me for writing ayato this way. i tried my best to highlight the weird side of his character, but… oh well :’3
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lowkeyerror · 4 months ago
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The Family Business Ch. 16
WandaNat x Reader
Word Count: 1.9k
Ch. Notes: Slight confrontation and angst, self-blame, lots of feelings, communication
Summary: The future of the family business is discussed between Wanda, Natasha, and yourself
An: Another update sorry for the wait and I appreciate how patient you guys are with me here
Series Masterlist | Masterlist
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Natasha couldn't sleep. All she could do was watch as both you and Wanda slept restlessly. Her mind was turning, thinking about what she could do in this situation. The right answer was one she was struggling to produce.
On one side of things running the family business was what Wanda was trained to do. It was all her wife wanted, her life's work, her life's purpose. If Wanda wasn’t tied to the business what this mean for her wife.
On another side, this business was unkind to her. It was rough and cruel. In the spam of a couple months Wanda nearly lost her father, her girlfriend was beaten up, and her wife was shot. It’s understandable why she’d want to walk away from this.
Natasha was unsure what you wanted. After the encounter with Kingpin it was clear to Natasha that you were an integral part of the family business. There was a lot more responsibility on your shoulder than she originally thought. If you wanted out of the business, would it survive.
Dragos was a great leader but he was getting old. This whole ordeal was proof of that. It was clear that Wanda’s homecoming would act as some sort of test, as he could potentially be ready to step down for a new successor.
The variables seem never ending to assess. Natasha truly cared about the happiness of you and Wanda, but the idea of either of you being put in situations like this, made her nervous. The toll it was taking seemed greater than the satisfaction that it brought.
Natasha is gently taken out of her thoughts when she feels you snuggle deeper into her. She’s careful as she readjusts her good arm around you. Wanda’s hand on the other side of you interlocks with Natasha’s. She shifts her focus to her sleeping wife. Her thumb caresses the back of Wanda’s hand.
“Sleep, Natty” you mumble into her collarbone.
“I’m trying lisichka, there’s just a lot on my mind,” Natasha speaks honestly.
“Get in the middle,” you move with your eyes closed over Natasha.
The spy goes to protest, but Wanda is already scooting closer to her. She clings to her wife like a koala. You also curl into the woman resting one of your hands on her bare stomach.
“You’re safe moya lyubov, relax,” Wanda kisses Natasha’s shoulder tenderly.
Natasha takes a deep breath and closes her eyes in an attempt to go to sleep. It comes easier when she's enclosed by both you and Wanda.
The next morning almost feels plainly normal. When you wake up you’re the only one in bed. You swing your legs over the side and sit with your head in your hands.
You can see flashes of the night before and it eats at you. You had killed before, but this felt different. Though you were clean it still felt like you had his blood and brain matter all over you. You could hear him laughing as he dared you to shoot him. The way your brother’s name sounded in Fisk’s mouth.
It's worse when you start to remember how weak you acted after. Wanda being there to baby you as always when you became a childish mess. Your hands tightly grasp at your hair as you berate yourself for your actions. You acted irrationally and then panicked in a way you shouldn’t have.
You feel a pair of hands on yours, carefully loosening your grip on your hair.
“Y/n, look at me baby.”
You lift your head to meet Natasha’s gaze. The worry in her eyes makes you try to get a grip on reality. With a shake of your head and a large inhale, you regain your composure.
You attempt to stand and Natasha tries to stop you.
“I’m fine Natasha.”
“You do know I was a spy right? Lying to me is not going to go over well for you,” she deadpans.
You attempt to deflect, “Where’s Wanda?”
“In the kitchen. Now are you going to tell me what that was about?”
“Nothing that I can't handle on my own,” you assert.
Natasha’s eyes lock on to yours in a way that makes you want to melt, “ You don’t have to handle it on your own. You can be vulnerable with us, with me.”
“Being vulnerable is what landed me here in the first place. If I wasn’t so fragile maybe they would've told me about my mom. If I would've been more rational then I wouldn't have shot Fisk in the head. All I did last night was run away, vomit, and cry like a fucking child.”
“Last night, you saved the family business. You saved me, Wanda, Pietro, Dragos, and potentially everything they care about,” Natasha tries to persuade you.
“I could’ve done better. I should’ve stood taller, held my ground, kept my temper in check. Even now, I sound like a whiny kid, who can’t move on from the past. For nearly a decade I’ve been trying to become stronger, but every time I’m put in a tough situation, it’s like I’m that kid again. I’m just waiting for someone from this family to throw a glass bottle at my head and tell me I’m worthless because I know that it’s true.”
For once it seems as though Natasha doesn’t have the words. You wont look at her as silence blankets the room. In your mind there was nothing about this that wasn’t your fault. You deserved to be punished for your lack of competence, there had to be someone who was mad at you.
Wanda had overheard the conversation as your voice became louder. She waits a beat to see if Natasha had anything to say before entering the room herself.
Your back was to her and she didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around your midsection. Her chin rests on your shoulder.
“Y/n, I will tell you as many times as you need to hear it, but you are not worthless. It’s ok to feel overwhelmed by what happened yesterday, it hasn’t even been 24 hours. It’s ok to lean us for help, we won’t push you away and we won’t be upset. Emotions are not childish, my love.”
Your hands find themselves around her forearms, “ I wish I could’ve kept it together.”
“It would’ve just prolonged the inevitable. There was no way that Fisk could’ve lived after all he put us through. He can’t hurt this family anymore."
“Not just with him, I- I want to hear from Dragos and Pietro about my mother. If I wouldn’t have sprinted out of the building-”
“They are at home, they aren’t going anywhere. Whenever you want to have that talk we can, but I think it would be best to give it a couple of days” Wanda reassures you.
“ Is he upset with me?”
Wanda shakes her head, “Of course not, Y/n. You saved his life, his family, his business. He’s worried about you, he wants to see you.”
Your attention shifts to Natasha, who has been quiet since Wanda entered the room. You can see her in her own mind.
“Nat?”
Natasha doesn't answer when you speak causing her wife to call her name as well. When they lock eyes Wanda can tell something is weighing on the woman.
“I don't want him to see you, Y/n.”
Wanda furrows her brow, “Why not?”
Natasha speaks softly and avoids eye contact with her wife, “We don't know what he wants.”
“He wants to make sure she's ok. She's like a daughter to him,” Wanda becomes slightly defensive of her father.
You use your hands to keep Wanda near you. You think whatever is happening in this conversation requires space between the wives.
“I know that, but what if he wants something else Wanda?” Natasha rushes out.
“What else could he want?” Wanda tone is incredulous at this point.
“I don’t know Wanda, maybe he wants to thank the one person who has been holding his business together since his accident. Maybe now that she’s saved not only his business, but his family and his life, he wants to reward her. Maybe this whole thing has made him realize he’s too old for this and he wants to pass on all of this to her,” Natasha shoots back.
“That’s ridiculous- he’s not retiring,” Wanda tries to dismiss Natasha.
“Think about it Wanda, why else call you home now? Your father is looking for a successor and there was only one person who was successful at running the business in his absence,” Natasha argues back.
“He left me in charge, Natasha.”
“And how long did that last? You did your best, but it was too much for you. There’s nothing wrong with that, but you leaned on Y/n and she picked up the slack effortlessly. This was natural for her, she’s good at this.”
The tension in the room was rising with each exchange. You want to de-escalate the situation, but you don’t know if it’s ok for you to get involved.
“ If he offered it to me, I would tell him no,” you spoke up, “I love this business, but I can’t run it. I’m not even a Maximoff.”
Wanda turns you so that you’re facing her, “ Do you want to run the family business?”
“ I-I’ve never thought about it before,” you answer her honestly.
“ I thought we all agreed to some time away from this business, now you’re talking about being the head of the table,” Natasha is in disbelief.
“This is all hypothetical. This business is the only thing that I feel like I’m good at and for the longest I felt like I would do this forever. But things are different now,” you look between the two women.
The tension seems to leave the air when you look at them.
“What's different, little krolik?”
You shove her shoulder lightly, “My priorities feel different. There are other things I care about, and look forward to besides being useful for the business.”
“What kind of things lisichka?” Natasha teases.
You roll your eyes, “Things like sleeping in and waking up next to my girlfriends in bed. Having enough days off to travel somewhere, see something with them. Domestic things like cooking dinner together, or watching movies. Knowing that we're all safe and don’t have any reason to be looking over our shoulders would be nice too.”
“I like the way that sounds,” Natasha says.
“Me too,” Wanda agrees.
You stop them there, “But… Wanda I know you've wanted this your whole life. You didn't ask this year's away preparing for this, and if this is still your dream then I want to be there to support it. If you’re involved, I want to be there.”
Natasha looks to her wife, and can see a multitude of emotions pass through Wanda’s face.
“I want this more than anything,” Wanda places a kiss on your forehead.
Your hand rests on her face bringing her eyes to yours, “Wanda, you don't have to choose between this and that.”
“I know, I know, but Y/n I’m always going to choose us. You, Nat, this, it's more important to me than the family business. I don't want to be the reason we're in danger,” her forehead rests on yours.
“So what does this mean for us?” Natasha asks for clarification.
“I don’t think we’ll know what it means before we talk to my dad. I want to say if he asks me I’ll say no immediately, but it’s easier said than done,” Wanda frowns.
“It means whatever we’re going to do, we’ll do it together,” you say looking at both of them.
Natasha still has worry in her eyes, but a kiss from you eases her nerves. Wanda follows your lead wrapping you all into one large hug. With kisses to the top your heads, she reassures you all.
“We’re going to be ok”
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throneofsapphics · 5 months ago
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finding you again, part two
Azriel x f!Reader
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summary: after he ended your relationship, you didn’t expect Azriel to pop into your life again - and you’re not happy about it
warnings: violence, injuries, war
a/n: if anyone wants to be added to the taglist, please let me know!
series masterlist
Azriel barely remembered making it to the healing tent. 
It must’ve been a hallucination, surely you wouldn’t have healed him. You’d call for someone else to do it. 
“Stay safe spymaster,” you’d said with that wicked smirk on your face, “and do it far away from me, won’t you?” 
He’d let you get the last word in. Maybe because it pleased you, maybe because he was too caught up staring at you. 
Still, the features he’d tried to memorize those months ago loomed over him, pretty eyes glimmering with worry. 
“Come on, Azriel,” you half-snarled. “I’ll be pissed if you don’t make it.” 
“You have horrible bedside manner,” the words rasped from his throat.
“Get some water,” he didn’t know who you called, but he both heard and felt the pure relief in your voice. Next thing, you were tipping his chin, fingers cold against his skin, cool water sliding down his throat. 
“He’ll be fine,” you said, withdrawing as quickly as possible. Azriel’s vision was still swarming, but Cassian helped him sit. He caught sight of your back, ducking under the tent flap, back out towards the carnage. 
-
Madja was busy, and you hadn’t hesitated when your High Lord’s voice slipped into your mind, ordering you to a specific tent. Your stomach had dropped when you saw him. Not because of the gore, because it was Azriel, knocking on death's door hovering right on the brink of an unconsciousness that would put him in a coma. Perhaps not your neatest work, but he would survive.
Rhysand was probably aware of your shared history, and it made you even more surprised he let you near him. 
You shook the thought of him, of the Inner Circle, from your mind and faced the hoards of injured and dying again, scanning for the most critically injured. There was plenty of work to do. 
Pace yourself, you remembered Madja’s teachings on battlefield healing, and your own experience. Ration your magic, use only what’s necessary. They’ll survive a scar.
Time had no meaning as you worked, hours passed with countless patients, the sun fell and rose, and you could barely stand on your own two feet. 
“Take a rest,” a familiar voice, and a hand squeezing your shoulder. 
You shook it off. “There’s more to do.” 
“You can’t help anyone if you pass out,” he said mildly. 
Pivoting to face him, your face tightened. “And people will die if I can’t help them.” 
If you had more energy, you would’ve squirmed under his scrutiny. “At least eat something.” 
“Fine,” you spit out, and headed to the tent the healers stayed in, on the outskirts of camp, hoping he wouldn’t follow.  
He had, of course, as you emerged with an apple between your teeth, a few strips of dried meat in a recently cleaned hand, he was standing outside. Somehow, the area was regretfully empty. 
“I don’t need a minder,” you told him. “Go rest.” 
“Hypocritical.” 
“You’ll ruin my hard work.” 
His eyes flashed. Amusement or ire, you reminded yourself not to care, reminded yourself again as he left without a look back. He was getting in your head again. If you survived this war, if your world survived it, you’d flee far far away. 
-
It was dark, he should be sleeping, but instead he slid through the shadows, searching through the camp for … for you. His shadows told him everything, but he felt the need to set his eyes on you, like if he looked away for too long you’d disappear. 
“You can’t stay?” you asked. His eyes scanned you, white sheet barely covering the top of your breasts, the slight look of disappointment on his face. Azriel needed to be up early, and he knew if he spent another minute here, he’d be late and have too many questions to answer. 
Instead, he kissed your forehead, “another time,” he promised, unsure if he could actually keep it, and slipped out the door. 
The memory came to him out of nowhere, the desire to go back and change that moment strong and unexpected. He forced it from his mind, there was no going back, and you’d made that perfectly clear. 
As soon as he’d caught a glimpse of you, he retreated to make an effort to get some sleep - it’s what you’d want him to do. 
-
You moved with the armies, went where you were ordered, healed whoever needed healing, and most of all - kept your head down.
Maybe a few days, maybe a week had passed, but when Azriel appeared, one hand pulling the tent flap back, you didn’t have the energy to rebuke him. 
An exhausted wave of your hand, you let him in, and turned to pile over the notes in front of you. Letters bent and blended, and the heavy blinks to try and return them to legible words failed. 
Footsteps, loud enough to make sure you were aware of his position, slowing as they reached. Twisting barely over your shoulder, his thumb pressed against your chin, turning you forwards, to gaze at his shadow cast against the tent wall - now encompassing your own. 
Featherlight brushes against the skin of your neck, goosebumps down your spine, rough thumbs run circles in all of your trigger points. Decades ago, he’d done this nearly every time you met, always without asking, and somehow still knew all of the right places.
A low moan escaped slightly parted lips as he dug into where your shoulder and neck met. The fingers paused, but gods the exhaustion must’ve been truly driving you out of your mind, because you covered his hand with your own, encouraging him to resume. 
A low chuckle, and he did.
The next hours were something of a fever dream. Your bed was hardly large enough for two - especially for a pair of wings, but you managed to lay side by side, both fully clothed. Occasionally, his hand would bump into yours, and vice versa. 
The only noise inside the tent was your steady breaths, the two of you finding solace in the silence of each other's company. In that silence, you convinced yourself it was a dream, or a ridiculous hallucination. 
But, when you woke in the morning - alone, the usual tightness in your neck was missing, and familiar hints of cedar and night chilled mist filled the space. You were well aware he owed you nothing, but waking alone, not even a note, left you feeling used - you scoffed at the word - he’d given you a massage after all, if anything you were the one using him. 
 Whatever game he was playing with you, you wanted no part of it. Even if it wasn’t a game, even if he was just searching for some comfort during the chaos, it wasn’t you. He could find another source. The night only tightened your resolve to stay away from him. 
You were not called to heal him, nor any other members of the Inner Circle, again - to your relief. Just once, you saw him in passing, and averted your gaze, melted into the crowd before you could be noticed. 
The war ended, and you heard the stories of sacrifice, of the loss and gain of life, and thanked the mother with each one, but all you had eyes for was the rows and rows of males and females in varying shades of misery front of you. 
-
“Madja,” you called just loud enough to catch the healer's attention. She held up her hand in acknowledgement. The moments dragged as you watched her movements, the careful and measured expenditure of her magic, the efficient bandaging and applying of herbs.
As soon as she’d finished, she met your eyes. As always, her gaze stripped you bare and you wondered what she saw, before deciding you didn’t want to know. Her chin jerked towards the water basin, and you dutifully followed. You’d received her summons just minutes ago. 
“Back by the border,” she started - the location of the last battle, you noted, “there’s a medical camp in need of a seasoned healer. Although we can hardly spare you,” she sighed, “they asked and their need, believe it or not, is equal if not greater than ours.” 
“The ratio?” You asked, steeling yourself. 
“About fifty,” she gave you a look that said she didn’t envy you. 
“Then I better get going,” your mouth curved at the corners. After all, there was nothing keeping you here. 
You were fresh off a few hours of mandated rest and a good meal, and knew you had enough energy to winnow and get to work as soon as you arrived. It took mere minutes to pack the few things you brought, to tuck whatever supplies Madja could spare into a pocket space. You didn’t give yourself time to evaluate the weight that left your chest as you departed. 
-
When the chaos and politics surrounding the final battle ebbed, he looked for you. His shadows searched every inch of the blood soaked ground, tent, hidden crevice, but you were gone. Swallowing pride, he asked Madja, who only said you were dispatched elsewhere, and fixed him with a quizzing look. His eyes cool and face an unreadable mask of stone, he let his shoulders rise and drop slightly. 
“I only wish to thank her.” 
Madja huffed, head shaking and turned away. It didn’t matter whether or not the healer believed his half-truth. 
Azriel had spared what time he could for you, and banished you to a back corner of his mind, tucked away with the other memories that ached an old part of him. Shadow cooling his neck, a slow exhale, and he focused back to the present, back on his priorities. He needed to keep you where you belonged, in his past.
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goblin-jr · 3 days ago
Text
And then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like i love you.
part 5 of 12
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Synopsis: Morning confrontations bring afternoon coffee showers? Dealing with the aftermath of the bonfire
Pairing: unrequited JJ x Reader, Eventual Rafe x Reader
Warnings: luke being a shitty dad
masterlist
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The morning sun filtered through the wide-open windows of the Chateau, casting lazy golden beams over the worn but welcoming space. Y/N had woken up early, unable to sleep much after the emotional rollercoaster of the previous night. The sound of waves crashing against the shore was distant but soothing, a sharp contrast to the unease she still felt in the pit of her stomach.
She had wandered into the living room of the Chateau, the place the Pogues often gathered, now quiet after the chaos of the bonfire. The remnants of last night's party—the beer cans, half-empty bottles, and scattered towels—were strewn across the floor, evidence of the good times they’d shared. But the joy from last night felt distant now.
Y/N settled into one of the couches, looking out at the ocean. She was lost in her thoughts when she heard the soft creak of footsteps behind her. Turning, she saw Kiara walking in, wearing her usual calm expression, though Y/N could tell her friend had already sensed something was off.
“Hey,” Kiara said gently, taking a seat beside Y/N. She looked out at the water, then back at her. “You alright?”
Y/N hesitated, unsure how to start. She had been so caught up in her emotions last night, trying to laugh it off, but now, in the quiet aftermath, the weight of it all was harder to ignore. She bit her lip, looking down at her hands.
“I just… I don’t know,” Y/N started, her voice quieter than she intended. “Last night, the way they all were talking… I mean, it’s nothing new, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Kiara’s expression softened. “The jokes about you not hooking up with anyone?”
Y/N nodded. “Yeah. It’s like, they don’t see me as a girl at all. Just one of the guys. And I know I’ve always been… the bookworm, or whatever, but it’s different now. I don’t know why, but it just hurt last night. I wanted to be seen, you know? I’m not just ‘one of you.’”
Kiara let out a sigh, clearly understanding the struggle Y/N was dealing with. “You’ve always been one of us, Y/N. The Pogues, we’re a family. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be treated like more than just the ‘girl version’ of one of the guys. You’re allowed to feel that way.”
Y/N turned to Kiara, her eyes searching for reassurance. “But why does it feel like I’m always in the background? Like no one really notices me for who I am, just… who I’ve always been to them.”
Kiara gave her a small, knowing smile. “Because it’s easier to see you as the bookworm, the one who’s always steady and reliable. It’s easier than admitting that you might want something more. But you deserve that, Y/N. More than anyone else.”
Just as Y/N was about to respond, the door to JJ's honorary bedroom opened, and JJ walked in, his hair still messy from the night before, his signature carefree grin on his face. He paused for a moment when he saw them, then sauntered over to the couch, plopping down beside Kiara with a playful look.
“Good morning, ladies,” JJ said, his voice light and teasing. “I see we survived the bonfire chaos.”
Kiara rolled her eyes. “You look like you survived a tornado.”
JJ chuckled. “The waves were rough last night. But I made it through, don’t worry.”
Y/N couldn’t help but give a small laugh, but the knot in her stomach tightened again when she remembered the night before. She glanced at him briefly, her heart still doing that strange flutter whenever she saw him, even though she’d tried to shake off her feelings for him.
“Did you have fun last night?” Kiara asked, her voice casual, but Y/N could sense there was a little more to it.
JJ grinned. “Yeah, met a tourist. She’s cool. Gonna show her around today.”
Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she felt a sudden pang of jealousy that she couldn’t ignore. Of course, JJ would find someone else to hang out with. He always did.
She didn’t say anything, though. Instead, she glanced out the window again, her mind racing. As if on cue, the door to the spare room opened, and a girl Y/N didn’t recognize stepped out. She was smiling, stretching as she made her way toward the kitchen, clearly in no rush to leave.
Y/N’s eyes narrowed instinctively. That was the tourist. The one JJ had been flirting with last night. She felt her chest tighten as the reality of her situation hit her harder than before.
Kiara must have noticed the change in Y/N’s expression because she shot a quick glance between her and JJ. “Everything okay?” she asked softly, but there was an underlying understanding in her voice.
Y/N didn’t trust herself to speak. Instead, she just nodded, trying to hold back the hurt and confusion she was feeling. JJ was already looking toward the door where the girl had gone, clearly not noticing the subtle shift in Y/N’s mood.
But then, he turned to her and noticed her distant expression. He gave her a questioning look, and for a moment, their eyes met. Y/N wasn’t sure what to do with the way his gaze lingered on her—whether it was concern or curiosity—but it only made her feel even more unsure of where she stood.
The awkward silence was broken when Kiara spoke up again, her voice a little firmer than before. “You should talk to him, Y/N. If there’s something you need to say, now’s as good a time as any.”
Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest. The words Kiara had just spoken hung in the air, and she felt a surge of emotion bubbling up inside her. She didn’t know what had changed in her since last night, but it was like something inside her had cracked open—something she had kept buried for a long time.
She glanced at Kiara, whose expression was a mix of concern and encouragement. It was like Kiara could see right through her, and in that moment, Y/N realized she didn’t have the luxury of keeping things in anymore. She had to say something. She couldn’t keep playing along like everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t.
Taking a deep breath, Y/N stood up, the muscles in her legs tense. She turned to JJ, who was still lounging on the couch, seemingly unaware of the storm brewing in the room. She had to get this out, had to make him see.
“JJ,” she started, her voice shaky but determined. “Can we talk?”
He looked up, his grin faltering slightly as he met her eyes. “Sure, what’s up?”
“Outside. Now” Y/N and JJ made their way out to the hammock. Taking a step closer, her eyes narrowing as she fought to keep her emotions in check. “What the hell, JJ?” The words slipped out before she could stop them, her frustration and hurt now spilling over.
JJ blinked, clearly taken aback by her tone. “What are you talking about?”
“The way you act like you’re in love with Kiara, but you’ll hook up with anyone who’s not her.” The words were sharper than she meant, but she couldn’t stop them. “It’s like you get to keep her on this pedestal and pretend that she’s the one, but you don’t treat her like that. You treat her like… like she’s just another girl to play with.”
JJ, who had been about to make a joke, suddenly went silent. He straightened up on the couch, his expression turning more serious, but Y/N didn’t let up.
“I’m sick of it,” Y/N continued, her voice shaking with emotion. “I’m sick of being the ‘good girl,’ the one you all forget is… well, a girl. You make these jokes about me, like I don’t care. But I do. I just don’t understand why you keep doing this—acting like you’re so into Kiara when you’re out there with anyone else who shows up. What about her? What about me?” Her breath hitched, the words coming out in a rush.
JJ’s expression shifted from confusion to defensiveness. He leaned forward slightly, running a hand through his messy hair. “Look, Y/N, I didn’t mean to—”
“No, don’t,” Y/N cut him off, her voice rising. “I’m not asking for an apology, I’m asking for you to think for once. Maybe stop acting like you don’t have feelings for Kiara when you clearly do. And maybe, just maybe, think about how I feel when I see you with someone else, acting like I’m just… background noise.”
There was a heavy pause. JJ’s eyes softened slightly, and for a moment, Y/N thought he might say something—anything—to try and fix it. But then he stood up quickly, a nervous laugh escaping his lips as he pushed past her toward the door.
“Look, I’m just trying to have a good time. Maybe you’re overthinking this,” he muttered, clearly uncomfortable with the intensity of the conversation.
Y/N’s heart sank. It was like he didn’t even understand what she was saying, like he was so caught up in his own world that he couldn’t even recognize the hurt in hers.
Without another word, Y/N turned on her heel and stormed off, her pulse racing. She didn’t want to be in this space anymore. Didn’t want to feel like this anymore.
As she made her way back to the house, JJ called after her, but Y/N didn’t stop. She needed air. She needed to get away from all of this for a moment.
The front door swung open just as she stepped onto the porch, and she stopped, breathless, seeing the girl from the night before leaving the kitchen with a carefree smile. JJ’s tourist. Y/N felt a bitter sting in her chest as the girl waved goodbye to him before heading out, not even sparing a glance at Y/N.
The jealousy coursed through her, but it was more than that—it was the feeling of being unseen, of not being enough. And in that moment, the weight of it all felt unbearable.
Later, Y/N started her shift down at the country club. The rhythmic clinking of glasses and soft hum of the lunch rush kept Y/N focused, the kind of steady routine she needed to distract herself after everything that had gone down last night and this morning. Cleaning the bar, wiping down counters—anything to keep her mind from wandering back to the bonfire and the sting of the Pogues’ comments.
But just as she was about to grab a fresh cloth to wipe the countertop, the door to the club swung open, and in walked Rafe Cameron.
Her eyes widened slightly. Rafe was looking like he’d just had the worst day of his life—frazzled, hair a little more messed up than usual, and his eyes wide with some mix of panic and annoyance.
“Y/N!” Rafe’s voice was a little too loud for the low-key atmosphere of the club, and he made a beeline for the bar. “I need your help. Like, right now.”
Y/N leaned back slightly, trying to hide her grin. “Cameron, here? What’s up? Your dad cut you off already?”
He shot her a look that was somewhere between exasperation and helplessness. “I wish. No, listen, my dad invited me to sit in on some huge business meeting today, right? It’s a big deal, but I—” he glanced down at his pants and then back up at her, “—I spilled coffee all over my pants. It’s bad, Y/N. Really bad.”
Y/N couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing, the image of the Kook prince—immaculate and untouchable—standing there with a coffee stain on his fancy pants was just too much. “You spilled coffee on your pants? Really?”
Rafe scowled, clearly embarrassed but too proud to admit just how serious he was about the whole situation. “This is a huge deal, alright? I’m meeting with some important people, and I can’t go in looking like this. I need help, please.”
Still trying to stifle her giggles, Y/N nodded. “Okay, okay. I’ll help you. But you owe me one.” She grabbed a towel and motioned for him to follow her. “Come on, we’re going to the bathroom. We’ll try to clean them up. Don’t get too hopeful.”
“Anything,” Rafe muttered, following her through the back of the club.
The bathroom was quiet, and Y/N could already feel the light tension between them as they stepped inside. She motioned for him to wait by one of the stalls. “Alright, take a seat in there. Let’s see what we’re working with.”
Rafe shot her a doubtful look but did as she said, squeezing himself into the stall. Y/N was left with his coffee-stained pants, feeling both amused and slightly sorry for him. The stain was big, but not impossible to fix with some elbow grease.
As she worked on scrubbing the stain out, the silence between them stretched on, and after a while, Y/N broke it with a quiet sigh. “You know, I took your advice last night,” she began, her tone soft, almost uncertain. “The whole ‘don’t hold back’ thing. But… it kind of bombed.”
Rafe’s voice came from the stall, more serious than she expected. “What do you mean? I thought it was good advice.”
Y/N shook her head, her hands still moving over the fabric. “I mean, I told them exactly what I was thinking, and it didn’t go over well. They just made fun of me more. I thought maybe it would feel good to get everything off my chest, but instead, it just made things worse.”
There was a long pause before Rafe finally spoke, his tone softer than she had ever heard it. “I’m sorry. I was drunk, and honestly, I didn’t really think through what I was saying. I guess it’s not as easy as just throwing everything out there without consequences.” He let out a small, almost rueful laugh. “I wasn’t really thinking, was I?”
Y/N smiled slightly, feeling the weight of her own frustrations lift just a little. “No, you weren’t. But it did feel good to be honest, even if the timing was… well, off.” She looked at him over her shoulder, finding him still in the stall, his face partially visible, eyebrows knitted in concern.
“You know, I never really thought about it that way,” Rafe admitted, his voice quieter. “Like, yeah, I’m always the one telling people to do whatever the hell they want. But sometimes you gotta be careful what you say. Especially when it’s about people who matter.”
Y/N felt a flicker of understanding between them—something unspoken but real. “Yeah, I get that.”
She finished cleaning the pants, carefully checking to make sure the stain was almost gone. “Alright, I think we’re good. You might still look like you’re working overtime at a coffee shop, but it’s better than it was.”
Rafe finally emerged from the stall, straightening up and looking down at his pants. He sighed in relief. “You saved me. I owe you one, big time.”
Y/N shrugged, brushing her hands off and turning to face him. “Don’t worry about it. Just—next time, maybe don’t go around giving relationship advice while drunk.” She grinned, teasing him.
Rafe laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Then, after a beat, he added, “But seriously, thanks. I didn’t think you’d even care to help me with this.”
Y/N smiled back at him, feeling lighter than she had in days. “What are friends for, Rafe?”
The evening sun was beginning to fade, casting an orange glow over the island, but Y/N’s shift at the country club wasn’t over just yet. The events of the day had played out in such a whirlwind—Rafe’s unexpected visit, the heart-to-heart they’d shared, and the awkward tension that still lingered between Y/N and the Pogues. It was a strange mix of emotions she couldn’t quite shake off.
She wiped down the bar one last time, scanning the room. The club was quieter now, the steady flow of people dying down as dinner hour approached. She could already feel the exhaustion setting in after an emotionally charged day, but it wasn’t over yet.
The phone behind the counter rang, jolting her out of her thoughts. She answered it quickly, as she always did in the quiet moments.
“Hello?” she asked, her tone soft from the fatigue she’d been carrying all day.
“Y/N?”
Her heart skipped at the familiar voice. It was JJ, and there was something in his voice that made her stomach tighten.
“JJ? Everything okay?” she asked, glancing around the bar to make sure no one needed her attention.
“I don’t know,” he said, his voice shaky and strained, like he’d been holding something in for far too long. “My dad… he—he had another outburst. And it was bad, Y/N. Really bad.”
Her chest tightened as she set the rag down on the counter. “JJ… are you alright?”
There was a pause on the other end, and then a sharp, almost hollow laugh. “I’m fine, I guess. Just… it’s the same shit, you know? But this time, I… I don’t know. I just don’t want to be alone right now.”
Y/N’s heart ached for him, the weight of his words settling heavily in her chest. She had seen him at his worst, but she knew how much it meant when he opened up like this.
“I’ll be there in a few,” she said without hesitation. “Just… stay where you are. I’ll come to you.”
“Thanks,” JJ muttered, the relief in his voice barely audible. “I knew I could count on you.”
The line went dead, and Y/N immediately grabbed her bag, rushing to clock out. She wasn’t about to let him go through this alone, not after everything he’d confided in her before. Even if she didn’t know what to say to fix it, she’d be there.
When Y/N arrived at JJ’s house, she wasn’t sure what she’d find. The atmosphere felt different, heavier, as she stood at the front door, glancing at the dim lights flickering through the windows. There was no sign of movement from inside, but she knew he was there. He had to be.
She knocked softly on the door, the sound echoing in the quiet of the evening. The door creaked open, and there stood JJ, looking like he hadn’t slept in days. His shirt was wrinkled, his hair messy, and his eyes were bloodshot.
Without a word, he stepped aside, letting her in. The silence that followed spoke volumes—no words needed to be exchanged, as Y/N understood exactly how he was feeling. She had seen this before, the way his father’s outbursts left him fragile and raw. She just didn’t know how much longer he could keep holding it all together.
“Where is he?” Y/N asked, glancing around.
“Out,” JJ muttered, running a hand through his hair. “He left after… after everything. I don’t even know where he went. Doesn’t matter.”
Y/N nodded, understanding that he was just trying to hold himself together. She stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to do this alone, JJ.”
He looked down at her hand on his shoulder, then back up at her, his eyes searching hers. “I know. I just… I don’t want to drag you into my mess.”
“You don’t get to decide that,” she replied quietly. “We’ve been through too much for me to walk away now.”
JJ let out a shaky breath, then nodded, his eyes lingering on hers for a beat longer than necessary. “I don’t even know how to thank you for always being here. You… you’re the only one who gets it.”
Y/N felt a lump form in her throat. She had always been there for him, but sometimes, it felt like she was the one who needed to be saved. She gave him a small smile. “It’s not about thanks. I’m here because I want to be.”
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Y/N said, breaking the silence. “You’ve been through enough today.”
JJ didn’t argue. He simply nodded, allowing her to guide him toward the small couch where he’d likely been sitting alone, stewing over everything that had happened.
The air in JJ’s house was heavy with unspoken thoughts. Y/N had helped him clean up, patched up the immediate mess his father’s outburst had left on him, but the emotional damage was still raw. JJ, sitting on the worn-out couch, looked every bit like a kid who’d seen too much too soon. His shoulders were slumped, his face shadowed by exhaustion, but Y/N knew better than to push him. They’d both been through enough for one day.
She sat down beside him, the room quiet except for the occasional hum of the old fan in the corner. No words were needed right now; sometimes, silence was the best comfort. They didn’t have to say much to understand each other.
Y/N glanced over at him, her voice gentle when she finally broke the silence. “You know, when we were kids, I never imagined things would turn out this way.”
JJ shifted slightly, his eyes downcast. “Yeah, me neither,” he muttered. “But I guess the world doesn’t give a shit about what we imagined, huh?”
Y/N let out a quiet, sad laugh, knowing that was the bitter truth. “Nope. We get what we get, and we have to figure out how to make it work.”
They both sat in the quiet for a moment longer, the weight of everything they’d been through growing heavier. She’d known JJ for so long, seen him go through so much, but tonight it felt different. There was a certain vulnerability in his eyes that hadn’t been there before, something raw and unspoken.
“Did you ever think about leaving?” Y/N asked suddenly, the question hanging in the air before she could stop herself.
JJ met her eyes then, his expression guarded. “I think about it all the time. But I know I’d never make it far. It’s just easier to stay and pretend like it’s all fine.”
Y/N nodded, the truth of his words cutting deeper than she expected. She’d always admired JJ’s ability to keep going, even when everything seemed to be falling apart around him. But she knew, like he did, that sometimes the hardest part was pretending it didn’t hurt.
“I’ve thought about leaving too,” she said quietly, her gaze falling to her hands in her lap. “Not for the same reasons, but… sometimes I wonder if there’s more out there for me than this island. Than everything that’s tied to it.”
JJ’s lips twitched upward in the smallest smile. “You’re one of the only ones I know who can get away from this place, Y/N. You could actually make something of yourself, get outta here.”
Y/N chuckled softly, but there was no humor in it. “Maybe. But every time I think about leaving, I remember that everything I want is right here. Even if it’s all a mess.”
“You really think that?” JJ asked, leaning back slightly, a new kind of curiosity in his voice.
Y/N met his gaze, her tone steady. “Yeah. I think I’ve spent so much time thinking about leaving, I forgot what it means to stay. To fight for something that matters. Even if it's messed up and broken, at least it’s real.”
JJ looked at her for a long moment, his eyes softer than they had been all night. “I get that. I think… Maybe I just don’t know what it means to stay. Not with how things are.”
Y/N’s heart twisted at the words. She’d known about Luke’s temper, the violence that simmered beneath the surface of the man JJ had called father for so long. But she was the only one who knew how bad it really got. The others saw the bruises, the scars, the broken things, but they didn’t know how much of it was a product of a man who couldn’t control his rage.
She sighed, her voice quiet but firm. “You don’t have to carry this alone, JJ. I’m here. You know that, right?”
JJ glanced at her, the walls he’d built up over the years starting to crack. He opened his mouth, but the words didn’t come out. Instead, he just nodded, as if the weight of everything was finally getting to him. He let out a breath, a shaky laugh escaping him.
“Thanks, Y/N,” he said softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Y/N smiled, though the ache in her chest didn’t fade. She knew she was the only one who truly understood what he was going through. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what kept her coming back—being the one person who could hold the pieces together, even when everything seemed to fall apart.
JJ shifted slightly, his tone quieter now. “You ever wish you could’ve had a different childhood? A different family?”
Y/N let the question sit for a moment, knowing it wasn’t easy to admit. She leaned back against the couch, thinking back to her own complicated relationship with her parents. It wasn’t as bad as his, but it had never been simple either. They’d always been distant, more focused on their own lives than on her. She shrugged, her voice soft.
“I think about it sometimes. I wonder if things would’ve been different if they’d been different. But then I remember… you and me, and the way we survived this island. Maybe that’s all we need. To survive.”
JJ let out a dry laugh, the humor in his voice soft and weary. “Yeah. We’re good at surviving.”
The silence stretched between them, and Y/N realized they were both carrying the weight of things they couldn’t change. But at least they had each other. At least they had someone who understood. And for tonight, that would have to be enough.
Eventually, JJ shifted on the couch, pulling the blanket over both of them. He laid back, his head resting against the worn fabric, while Y/N curled up beside him as they’d done when they were kids. The tension in the room, in both of their hearts, started to ease as they settled into the familiar rhythm of being together—no words needed, just the warmth of shared history and unspoken understanding.
Eventually, JJ shifted on the couch, pulling the blanket over both of them. He laid back, his head resting against the worn fabric, while Y/N curled up beside him as they’d done when they were kids. The tension in the room, in both of their hearts, started to ease as they settled into the familiar rhythm of being together—no words needed, just the warmth of shared history and unspoken understanding.
As the night grew darker, Y/N felt the weight of her eyelids heavy, the exhaustion from the day, from everything, creeping in. It had been a hard day, a hard week, but for now, in the quiet of JJ’s house, with him by her side, it felt like they were just two kids again—no worries, no pain, just the comfort of each other’s presence.
“Hey, Y/N?” JJ whispered into the stillness, his voice thick with sleep.
“Yeah?” she murmured, her eyes already half-shut.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Y/N’s lips twitched into a sleepy smile, her voice soft as she responded, “Same, JJ. Same.”
And with that, they both drifted into a peaceful, familiar sleep, the kind that only comes when you know, deep down, that no matter how hard life gets, you’ll always have each other.
Before fully drifting off, Y/N thought to herself, Once we graduate... we’re leaving. Together. No more broken families, no more staying behind. And with that, they both let the quiet of the night pull them under, dreaming of the future they would build away from the island and all that had hurt them.
And with that, they both drifted into a peaceful, familiar sleep, the kind that only comes when you know, deep down, that no matter how hard life gets, you’ll always have each other.
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Next up: a return to how it was, more or less
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Taglist:
@hockeybabe87
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A/N: last one for night.. wish me luck for my presentation in the morning!!!!
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phyrestartr · 5 months ago
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Their Burning Bodies Keep Us Warm (2/2) | Sukuna x M!Reader
W/C: 3.4k #NSFW, p0rn with plot, top!Sukuna, bottom!Reader, ABO dynamics, cannibalism, mentions of sex trafficking, mentions of cults, questionable relationship, suggested Stockholm syndrome, post-apocalypse, enemies to friends to lovers, angst, drama, gore, typical zombie shite, not rlly edited kekw SORRY tags: @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @tr4nniez @kamote-kuneho @prettorett @kindadolly @inflatabledinosaurs19 @memedealer-exe
“How's it look?” Sukuna groaned after you peeled back the bandages and gauze.
You stayed quiet while you thought, but ultimately had to ask, “How's it feel?” 
Sukuna scoffed. “Aches like fuck.”
“You should take Tylenol or something.”
“Hah. Like I'd give up drinking.” 
You sighed and washed his back with the usual tincture of salt and water, earning yourself a sharp, whiny snarl. Carefully, as though to apologize, you dabbed away scabbed blood and whatever else clung to the DIY sutures. 
“Then it'll keep hurting.” The dark, black bruises around the wound promised it. “But…it doesn't look infected.” You pressed against the reddened, irritated skin with a light touch, and breathed a sigh of relief; there didn't seem to be any suspicious discharge or signs of serious infection. Hopefully it'd stay that way. 
“Silver fucking lining, I guess.” The alpha hung his head and let you go about cleaning it thoroughly to prep for re-wrapping it. “You're not too squeamish around this shit, hey?”
“I guess,” you said lamely. You glanced at the back of his head in thought before focusing on your task again. “The whole world is shitty. So. Guess I got used to it.”
“You sure you don't have a history?” He asked, glancing back at you. 
You shrugged. “I was a crook, but I only stole. Never really fought, never murdered either. But I saw shit, sure. Patched some people up before, too. Nothing like this, though.” 
Sukuna nodded and looked ahead again, resting his chin on the back of the chair. “That explains it.”
“Explains what?” You wondered.
"Explains why you're not boring me," he said, nonchalant. 
You paused to cast the back of his head another wary, confused glance. It was a strange comment. You weren't sure what the implications meant for those who came before you.
"What would happen if I bored you?" You asked.
"I'd get rid of you," he answered, too truthful. "Kill you. Eat you. Kick you out. Somethin' like that." 
Sukuna looked at you again, an amused glimmer of insanity igniting in his eyes. You did your best to look away, to not engage with the hellspawn repossessing his near-tolerable person. 
"Oi, oi, quit looking so pathetic," he taunted, voice singing with playful sadism. "There's no room for that if you wanna survive out here, brat. Besides, our deal is pretty good, isn't it?" 
You pursed your lips, trying to ignore the fact that he just declared that he'd eat you if he got bored of you. How were you supposed to relax? 
Yet you tried anyway. "Yeah. Right." 
"Don't believe me?" He questioned. 
"I do. Just--you just told me you woulda ate me if I was boring." You tried not to sound too flabbergasted and awestruck, but the warbly disbelief came through anyway. 
And Sukuna laughed. Not in that heinous, chilling way, but low and warm. It almost made you think he could be somewhat fond of you. 
"Well, you're still breathing, aren't ya?" He asked.
You shrugged before starting to re-bandage his back. "Well. Yeah. I guess." 
"You sound anymore fuckin' unsure and I'll take your damn head off, omega." Sukuna sighed, still sounding content. "Dunno what shit you've been through, but you survived it. You're strong. Remember that." 
For the first time in your life, you felt butterflies in your stomach. 
--
You're strong. Remember that. 
Those words festered in your mind, bringing a much-needed sense of calm to your exhausted body and soul. You didn't realize how little you recognized your own strength, your own vicious mettle that kept you going through the haze of pain and discontent embedded in your life. You almost pitied yourself for your weak mind; when had you fallen so low? Why didn't you realize you were trapped in Tartarus? Did the nightmares and bitter flavours numb it all out?
You rubbed your face. "Think about the now," you mumbled as you poked at the fire with an especially long stick you'd taken a liking to. "No point thinking about the past." 
"Better not be mumblin' seance-y, satanic cult shit into the fire," Sukuna called from the kitchen. "I'll be pissed." 
Your face flushed with more than the fire's heat. "No! I'm just--I'm talking to myself." 
"In a creepy way?" 
"No!" 
"Coulda fooled me." 
You turned to the kitchen with a sour look, but quickly averted your gaze again; normally, you'd help him prepare and ration food, but when he took to chopping up chunks of person, you couldn't stomach it. 
Sukuna must've seen you look away, judging by his sudden, cheeky cackling. "What, still squeamish, omega? You don't got a problem when you're eatin' 'em."
You grimaced. "Yeah, I don't like thinking about it. Feels...wrong."
"Pussy."
"Hey."
"It's easy meat," Sukuna continued. "Better than eating grass 'n leaves 'n shit. Besides, makes you tougher."
You huffed. "Tougher. Right." 
Your partner in crime snorted. "You know how vaccines work, omega?" 
"Duh." You stabbed at the fire a few more times, stopping only when Calcifer spit a mouthful of sparks at you. "Introduce a weak strain of a virus into the body so it can make antibodies and fight against it." 
Sukuna hummed in agreement. "So what do you think happens when we eat our doomsday virus, huh?" 
You blinked owlishly at the flames. "Is...that can't be true," you asked, itching at your arm. "No way we’re becoming--"
"Immune." 
Sukuna walked to your side and knelt beside you, showing off the small collection of scarred bitemarks dotting his arm.
Your touch ghosted against the marks in wonder. Maybe he was lying. Maybe these bites came from something else. Something more demented than even the undead. 
"But how could the virus survive? When it's, uh, cooked, I mean," you asked as you held his forearm with both hands and examined further. 
"Guess medium-rare doesn't take care of everything." He shrugged and watched you press against the raised skin incessantly. "But hey, maybe I'm just a freak of nature. Better than normal fucks. Godly."
You looked at him with yet another grimace, and he grinned. 
"You've been eating people for too long," you decided. “It's made you delusional.”
"Probably." He moved to get up when you let go of him, but paused with a second thought.
Sukuna reached for you, brushing some of your hair from your neck. Your heart did more stupid backflips feeling that quiet touch drag along the sloping curve of your neck, down to the source of your alluring redolence. 
His thumb rubbed slow circles against your skin, waking forgotten sparks of bergamot and birch, melding them with his musk of leather and pine. You thought they fit together nicely, in an odd way. Or maybe you were caught up in hopeful delusions his marking always brought you. 
He stood, then, content with his work. "Was in prison when shit hit the fan. Had to get creative." 
You rubbed your neck when he walked away. "I can imagine. Must've gotten pretty overrun." 
"The cells were pretty safe. Most of the prisoners died starving after the outbreak," he said. "Sorry sons of bitches. Couldn't even lob a dead cellmate's head off to save themselves when those idiots turned." 
"That what you did?" You scooted up onto the couch and watched Sukuna putter around the kitchen. You pretended he was cutting up some wild animal instead of human. 
"I killed my cellmate before that," Sukuna said. "Got sent to solitary for it." 
You pursed your lips. "What'd he do?"
“He bored me.”
Being in his arms felt safe. You rested easy, no longer fearing his appetite nor his wrath in the brief moments of consciousness before darkness overtook you. He held you before, too, pulled you to his chest to stay warm whenever the night grew too cold and the fire dwindled; now, however,  it was different.
Now, you woke up facing him. You woke with newfound adoration for the gnarled bump fucking up the bridge of his nose (something that told of far too many fights) and you realized you quite liked the sound of his soft, rumbling snores. Even the way his body burned too hot eased your nerves when it once suffocated you with sweltering anguish.
You were careful not to say you felt anything for him, however; he was the beast who'd stolen you away from your short-lived freedom, and kept you here for his own selfish pleasure. A warning danced in the forefront of your mind, shaking its head every time you looked your captor's way. You knew better. You knew better. 
But he wasn't so bad. Though that was what Belle said about her Beast, wasn't it? Before they fell in love. Before their happily ever after.
You shifted just the slightest bit closer to him, letting your nose barely nudge against his before freezing, waiting to see if he'd stir and wake from the mild disturbance. He'd slept through worse, you imagined. Most were light sleepers throughout the apocalypse, but he–
His eyes opened. The pounding of your heart must have been the cause. 
Sukuna didn't have words, and neither did you; being here, being so close to him, face to face and finally taking in what he looked like, about to find out what he tasted like, said everything in a language he understood.
Because he closed the gap first. After a sharp glance down to your lips then back to your eyes, he nudged your nose aside and pressed his lips against yours. And you pushed into him, tugged yourself closer with your hands in his shirt and then in his hair while his own smoothed over your side to grab and grope at your ass and whatever softness from the old world still clung to your figure. 
Your hands pulled at his shirt, and he got the message. He rolled on top of you and sat up on his knees, straddling your waist as he pulled off his shirt to let you see glimmers of scars arching against defined slopes of muscle, disappearing beneath cloth bandages. Your breath hitched; he was gorgeous in ways you couldn't describe. 
He adjusted, settling between your legs before leaning down and kissing you again while those curious hands of yours felt for the secrets etched into his skin like hieroglyphics left only for the blind. Those marks told stories from start to finish. They hinted at his life up until this point. You wondered if any of them reminisced of smiles and laughter. 
Sukuna's hands coasted up your shirt to explore you, too. His thumbs pressed between every rib, followed the arch of the cage protecting your heart, before he pinched and teased at the sensitive buds of your chest. You didn't think you'd like it, but the way he tortured you with talented fingers was too good–good enough to drag out the first of many quiet, breathy sounds from you. 
Sukuna pulled your shirt off and tossed it aside. His broad palms smoothed across your skin before he dipped down, and tasted you, running the flat of his tongue against your neck, then back down to the bullied bundle of nerves he'd worked into a frenzy. He bit and nipped, swirled his tongue around the pert nub, and sucked hard enough to bruise and split your delicate skin.
You bit down on the inside of your cheek, stifling the rattling hum reverberating in your chest; you'd never felt so good before. You'd never had someone focus on you like this before. Maybe it was a selfish thing on the alpha's part, or maybe he wanted you to indulge in primal pleasures, too. That errant hand of his groping at your hardened cock suggested as much. 
Your fingers carded through his hair as he left brutal hickeys on your chest and bit at your nipples like he was threatening to take them clean off (thankfully, he seemed to quite like them and left them intact for future use), and then he traveled south, yanking your shorts off and spreading you wide before him. 
Your heart throbbed in your head. It pounded harder still as he stroked you firmly and fully, squeezing at all the right spots while his other hand felt up the softness of your thighs, the slick pooling between your cheeks, the tightening of your sacks. He was so like a cartographer, trying to chart every inch of your body, trying to remember which spots made you jolt and jump. 
And you couldn't help but squawk as he lifted your hips, hauling your legs over his shoulders with little effort, before spreading you wide and licking against your leaking hole. 
Your hands clutched at the sheets desperately. The pants stuttering out of you upscaled when his tongue, the devilish thing, circled around your tight entrance a handful of times before sinking in with the help of his thumbs pulling you open. 
This time, it was Sukuna who moaned, low and dripping with bliss. You couldn't know how it was for him. You didn't know how tasting your slick, drowning in your bergamont-pine perfume in its purest form drove him mad with hunger and want–with need, maybe. Your scent was divine. Your taste was even better. 
So, he took his time. He indulged in lapping at you, coaxing more and more slick to pool from your insides and drip down his chin in sticky, syrupy dollops while you writhed and bucked against his grasp, seeking more but getting too much. Sukuna almost felt for you. Almost. If you didn't want him to eat you alive, you shouldn't have tasted so sweet. 
Eventually, his cock demanded attention, too, and he finally let your hips down to look over your fucked-out expression and heaving chest. And when you stared back at him, eyes heavy and needy, you caught the alien glow of crimson burning in the swathe of shadows dodging the moonlight. It sent an electric thrill dancing up your spine; the monster you once feared was back, and now bewitched by your body's spell. 
Sukuna's pants came off in a slow rush. He tossed them aside and half-heartedly wiped his mouth before looming over you once again, and catching your lips with his. His tongue pushed into your mouth, ripping the tiniest of ah-s from you, and he forced you to taste what was left of your essence against his tongue. Then, like the kiss was just a mere distraction, his head popped into your empty, lonely body, and stretched you with a singe of pain. 
Your fingers dug into his scalp and his back as he forced himself into you inch by inch, pulling out just to push back inside deeper with the aid of your body's viscous desire to find a euphoria of his design. The hasty beginnings of a knot at his base stretched you wider, filled you fuller as he snapped in once more and bottomed out with a growling moan vibrating against your chest.
And, god, it felt good. You were stuffed beyond your limits, struggling to adapt and welcome him inside despite hugging and squeezing him with praise and devotion. It seemed he'd never bothered jamming his entirety into you. He'd been giving you that one, little mercy your entire tenure. 
But now, you were willing to take it, and he was going to give it to you, like it or not. 
His face buried into your neck when he moved. His hips pulled back just a bit before he sunk back inside of you, like he was trying to see just how far he could reach into your struggling, smaller body–and then, he was done testing your shared limits, and he devoured you. 
You clung to his shoulders, clawed at his back, pulled at his hair while he fucked into you. The bed creaked and dragged against the floor with every near-hostile ram into your heat, but you could hardly hear it over the feral, primal noises slipping through his clenched teeth. Your omega fell mute with pleasure and relief, apparently finding peace at being railed into like you were in heat and your mate was in rut. You weren't. He wasn't. You could only imagine what that would be like. 
Profanities hissed from him, as did demented, mumbled praise that you'd keep close to your heart come morning. His knot inflated bigger and bigger, bullying your ass open wider with each violent slam into your core. Normal alphas wouldn't have forced it into you mid-fuck, but he wasn't normal. He wanted to feel your tightness bite down around that sensitive, swollen plug. He needed to hear your sharp mewls and grunts the pain and pleasure forced out of you with every disgusting, wet pop of his cock ripping out of you. He had to keep pushing his limit, pushing your limit, until you got too fucking tight and too fucking hot that you'd force him to stay put and pump his cum into you by the gallon. 
He had to. 
So, when your breath fanned against his hear, when you whispered the most pathetic, “Cum in me,” he went mad. 
He leaned back and folded you in half, ignoring your uncomfortable grimaces before he held you in that mating press and let loose, eyes screwed shut and brow furrowed in concentration while his fangs dug into his lip as he snarled and grunted. 
Blood rushed to his cock with an electric current, pushing his hips to snap against yours harder and faster as his knot inflated fully and struggled to leave the warmth of your tight, clingy hole. But it wasn't enough, it wasn't enough–
Until he looked down at you, and bore witness to your muscles fluttering, your back arching, your mouth hung open with a soundless cry as you came undone, soaked with sweat and slick. 
Sukuna’s hips jolted and stuttered, and he fought to force that thickness into you for the last time before he spilled inside, adding his own kindling to the fire eating you alive. 
You gasped again, hand fisting tighter around your cock as you worked yourself through the unbearable ecstasy crashing down on you in torrential waves. You were a boat in the middle of an ocean, somehow staying afloat despite being in the middle of a world-ending storm–perhaps by the mercy of a beast lingering in the depths.
The aftershocks took too long to die down; Sukuna's shallow thrusts into you didn't help, nor did your own languid stroking, but you didn't want it to help. You wanted to see how much more cum you could force out of the man every time you clenched around him. You wanted to see how much longer the perverse pleasure would plague you if you tortured him just a little more. By the continuous emptying of the man's balls into your inflating core, you'd say you were doing a pretty good job. 
You silently both doubted that stupid knot of his would go down with how worked up he got–normally, it'd take about 5 minutes, but there'd been data recorded suggesting it could take up to an hour if the alpha was determined to have his omega as his permanently. And judging by your solitary existence by his side, it seemed like the latter was possible. 
So, he took great care in maneuvering you both onto your sides to rest more comfortably while you waited and dozed. The time passed with kisses and touches, and the constant drone of purring filling in the gaps where your bodies failed to touch. 
In that moment and onward, you didn't much care that you were his victim. His butterfly caught in a trap, kept docile by the sweet taste of honey.
“Looks like the worst is over,” You mumbled, looking over the to-be scar on his back. “You sure you want me to take out the stitches?” 
Sukuna scoffed and looked over his shoulder. “You want those things to fuse into my fucking skin, omega? Take ‘em out.” 
You furrowed your brows, but complied nonetheless. “Doubt they’d fuse to your skin,” You mumbled. 
Sukuna growled at you, and you grunted back, not impressed, no longer intimidated. Things had changed ever since that night. For the better, somehow. You found yourself less intimidated, less afraid, and he seemed to welcome it with open arms and a wolfish grin. You weren’t entirely sure, but you almost felt like it was the definition of mates. 
A banging from the basement made you jump and huff, earning an amused snicker from your partner. 
“Almost stabbed you with the scissors.”
“Don’t fucking stab me with scissors.”
“Not on purpose,” You sighed. “Should we knock them out again?” You wondered as you carefully cut every stitch and gently pulled them free. 
A deathly rasp had you both snapping to attention. A handful of figures lumbered outside the house, shambling and bumping into this and that as they searched for whatever stimulus had caught their attention. You found yourself annoyed, knowing the cattle locked up down below were probably the lure. 
“Well, if they’re gonna be attracting the fucking zombies like that, yeah.” Sukuna yawned and rolled his shoulders once you finished up with a reassuring pat to his back. “Might as well make ‘em fun-sized ‘n store ‘em in the freezer right away while we’re at it. They’ll get too scrawny otherwise.” 
You hummed as you cleaned up. “Isn’t leaner meat better?” 
“Yeah, but the fat’s useful,” Sukuna said with a smirk. He tugged his shirt on and stood, looping his strong arms around your middle while you puttered about and ensured the medical tools and counter stayed clean. “Use it for fires. Keep us warm ‘n shit. ‘Sides, might get shittier meat, but more of it.” 
You smiled a little (not at the idea of using human fat as an incendiary component, but at the little, domestic touch, of course), and nodded to yourself. “Well, I’m not gonna argue. You’ve done this longer than me. It’s not like we can go scavenging with the streets like this either.” 
Another handful of ghouls stumbled by the back door. Everything was barricaded, every window was blacked out, every possible way of entry was evaluated and reinforced, but the presence and proximity of the new rush of undead still unnerved you; you recognized most of them, too, which was an unwelcome touch. Something had gone awry at the mill, the two of you reasoned. Somehow, someone got bit, and the infection spread to the rest of the compound–the rest of the soldiers, at least. 
Most of the undeads wandering about once held positions of power. They once boasted before the cells of omegas, brandishing their medals and ribbons and everything else in a pathetic attempt to earn favour and initiate courtship. Now, it seemed those outside of the cages had seen the cruel, flesh-eating face of karma. You could only hope the lack of familiar, friendly faces meant your kind stayed locked away and safe while the compound exploded. They were strong; they'd make it.
Of course, there were whimpering survivors from your terrorizers’ side, namely the two men downstairs that Sukuna welcomed in with promises of safety and kinship ringing sweet on his tongue. It must've tasted quite bitter when they realized the trap was sprung with no honey to be found. 
Sukuna yawned and let go of you to tug his shirt back on. “Streets'll clear. Just a matter of waiting. Taking care of those two pigs downstairs'll keep shit quiet.” He picked up a hatchet and you shuddered. “We’ll take it from there.” 
You watched him wander to the door leading down to the basement–and then a thought got caught in your mind and sunk its teeth in with desperate need. 
“We should check the compound,” you said. Sukuna paused, and you swallowed down your brimming insecurity. “They have–I know they had medical supplies. And food. We should see what’s left.” 
Sukuna’s shoulders relaxed the slightest bit before he laughed. “‘N here I thought you were gonna beg for me to search for survivors.” 
“What? No, are you kidding me? I just want more medical stuff in case you get yourself hurt again,” you huffed, crossing your arms. 
Your partner threw a doting gaze over his shoulder at you before smirking. “Sounds like a plan.”
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iikatsukii · 2 years ago
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When the clock resets.
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synopsis: you’re brought back to life, unsure as to why eywa has given you another chance but as you return “home” things aren't quite the same. . 
pairings: sully family x daughter/sister!reader, neteyam x twin!reader, neytiri x daughter! reader, jake x daughter!reader
warnings: um tbh none except minor cursing, running away, passing out, mentions of malnourishment due to you being dead but yk. oh and ao’nung being a mama’s boy.
word count: 6,064
a/n: THIS IS PART 2 OF TOO LATE!!!! unfortunately there is no red text this time but guys i am still not done with this series because i have a request for if the reader survived the first part. but i will be moving back over to illicit love for a little bit because i didn't even expect this story to blow up like i did. like yall i was just sad and here yall are feeding off my trauma. but its okay yall are my little angst hungry babies. :) (also huge fucking shoutout to @eywas-heir for giving me this idea for pt. 2. go give them kisses for me and say i sent you :d)
taglist: @hai-kbai @ssc7514 @sillydog3-4-5 @hyunskz @innersuitcasehairdoscissors @rairaielv @freeauthordeputyartisan-blog @mel119g @ksata @artyom09 @marcswife21 @innersuitcasehairdoscissors @andyfromku
(if youre name has a strike through it that means i wasnt able to tag you im so sorry guys i tried)
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waking up felt extremely weird. you felt like you had taken the longest, heaviest nap ever. slowly opening your eyes to adjust to the light, you take in your surroundings.
you're in a shallow hole, you noticed as you looked around, and there was dirt around you. you look up at what you would think was the sky and see something else that you remember seeing before. you see the leaf covering that the omatikaya place over their passed-away loved ones. you usually see these leaf coverings from the outside. this caused a slight panic to settle in your chest?
why are you here? did you die? what the hell is going on?
you reached your arm up, still feeling weak from not moving your joints in you don't even know how long. you slowly press against the leaf covering, pushing it away from the hole and exposing the sun to your eyes. you shielded yourself before you felt a shadow standing over your form. it was mo'at. the tsahik of the omatikaya clan.
"tsahik?" it was the first word you said, and it caused mo'at to press a hand to her mouth in shock as tears sprang to her eyes. her granddaughter, who had passed away two years ago, was looking up to her from her grave that she had pushed open herself. the tsahik didn't understand. how could the great mother take you away for two years and let their family mourn and grieve your death just to send you back to them two years later?
this made no sense.
"come with me, my child," was the only thing mo'at said as she reached out to grab your hand. she intertwined your fingers, wanting to hold her granddaughter as close as possible, fearing losing you again. she helped you out of the hole slowly as you still had to get used to moving your arms and legs around again. 
"ma tsahik?" you asked the older woman standing before you. "what happened to me?"
she didn't turn to look at you as she said in a hushed, almost hurt, tone of voice, "you died two years ago," you were left speechless. you didn't know what to say, so you didn't say anything. you tried to think back on what happened before you woke up from your 'nap,' but you couldn't remember anything. no matter how hard, no memories or thoughts came to your head.
"do not try to work your brain so hard trying to find answers that will come to you, my child. you'll hurt yourself." the tsahik jokes.
you looked up at her, seeing the slight smile on her face but missing the faint trace of tears in her eyes. you let out a small laugh at her joke.
"hey! i may not remember anything from before, but i know i was not stupid before i died." you laughed along, but this caused the tsahik to stop in her tracks, turning to you.
"say that again." she said, grabbing hold of your shoulders, her face painted with worry. 
"i was not dumb before i died?" you said, confused at her sudden actions.
"no, child! the other thing you said."
"oh, that i do not remember anything from before i died?" your words were cautious because you didn't know if what you were saying was offensive. 
"we must get you back to the camps." was all she said as she turned, grabbing your hand, but this time she walked with urgency. her pace was hard to keep up with due to your aching body, but you somehow managed. 
once you started to enter your native territory, you felt eyes everywhere. everyone was looking at you. you get it; you died and came back, but did everyone have to stare at you like that? it wasn't like you were the olo'eyktans daughter before you died. 
mo'at brought you to the center of the high grounds camp, and everyone gathered around to see what announcement their tsahik had for them. 
she didn't have some big speech planned. she just held your hand and said to the clan's people. 
"the great-mother has returned my granddaughter!" everyone was cheering and happy. this confused the sully family. the past two years after your death have been hard. the natives completely annihilated every rda soldier, lab, and scientist in sight. it was an unexpected, coordinated attack between the forest na'vi, the ice na'vi, and, surprisingly, even the ash na'vi. due to transportation, the water na'vi couldn't make it to fight the war, but they were able to send over some of their finest healers. 
let's just say no ships are coming to pandora ever again. jake made sure to send a message to the humans back on earth that if they ever sent one of their own to his planet again, he would single-handedly rip them each limb from limb. that was a promise, not a threat. humans had not gotten a chance to respond to jake's words. right after he delivered his messages, he pulled the pin of a grenade and walked out of the ship, it and the rest of the camp's base exploding behind them. although they didn't get to respond, they sure did receive the message, and earth now no longer had an avatar program. as the na'vi walked away from the war, they were victorious once and for all. 
neytiri was quietly braiding her youngest daughter's hair when she heard the cheers and celebration of the clan outside her home. and then that's when her three older children came running into their hut, screaming and crying, speaking simultaneously. it sounded as if they were speaking gibberish. 
"hey, hey kids calm down. what is going on?" jake asked his children, who looked like they were in distress. he was sitting in the home's living area, sharpening his blade as he had nothing else to do. 
"Y/N HAS RETURNED." it was kiri who got the words out first. 
neytiri, jake, and tuk all froze. there was no way. the great mother had taken you right in front of their eyes. you have been gone for two years; it can't be. neytiri had visited your grave just last night. there you lay, closed-eyed and lifeless in front of her, but as she walked out of her home and into the center of the clan's gathering there, you stood. you looked skinny and malnourished, but you were standing, breathing, alive. 
neytiri couldn't believe her eyes. she thought she was dreaming as she approached you slowly. she held your face in her hands, and as soon as she felt your skin against her own, she broke down in tears, engulfing you in the tightest hug you had ever felt. 
"ow." you said when she squeezed a bit too hard. this caused the woman to release you quickly, as she had forgotten how fragile you were right now. 
"ma ite, you have returned to me, oh great mother, you have answered my prayers. thank you, thank you, thank you," she said as she pulled you into a hug again, this time softer, as if she was afraid that if she held you too rough, you would break in her arms. 
you, on the other hand, were nervous. granddaughter? ite? what is going on right now? there's no way you're the tsahik's granddaughter. you couldn't imagine what your mother would be like as a person, let alone any of your family. all you knew was that you were from the forest, but maybe eywa brought you back to the wrong part of the forest? you couldn't even look at the woman before you and pinpoint a resemblance. you had four fingers; some of her children had five, and you weren't like them. only one other child had four tingers, and you noticed it was the eldest son. 
when you made eye contact with him, his eyes softened. neteyam hadn't looked into his twin's eyes in ages. he missed you like no other. yeah, neytiri had it hard losing her first daughter, but neteyam had his twin's life ripped from her body right in front of his eyes. at that moment, it was almost like he felt the bullets go through his chest as well. that's how great the pain of losing you felt. but looking at you now, he felt like his heart was whole again. but there was this look in your eye. you looked different. not physically. you looked at neteyam differently. almost like you didn't recognize him.
mo'at had hoped that seeing your home and your family would cause your memories to come flooding back, but the look on your face was not giving her that impression. 
"i am sorry if i am ruining a happy moment…." you spoke up, causing everyone to immediately silence themselves so they wouldn't miss a word you said. but you didn't say anything that caused any happiness or joy in anyone. instead, your words scared everyone.
"–but i do not know who you guys are. i am not the tsahik's granddaughter and miss, i am not your daughter. i am sorry but i think you have things confused. please excuse me." you pulled yourself away from the woman who claimed to be your mother, but she tightened her grip on your hands.
"ma y/n, what do you mean? you do not remember me? i am your mother, your sa'nu. you are ma ite, my sweet girl." neytiri was taken aback. this isn't right, you're supposed to come back, and then everything goes back to normal. but the great mother has returned you with no memories at all. to you, neytiri was just a stranger claiming to be your mother.  
the next person to approach you was the olo'eyktan himself. you couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eyes because of how his vast form intimidated you.
"itetsyip. maybe if you come home and see some of your things then you'll remember." he said, placing his hand on your back and walking you in the direction of what you assumed was their home. you quickly remove yourself from the two adults who had you in their arms. 
"i am sorry but i am not your daughter. i do not want to enter your home to look at whatever things you think are mine. just because i have no memory of my family does not mean you get to take me away from them. the great mother may have returned me to my body with no memories but that does not mean you get to put whatever you want in my head, trying to get me to believe you. i only just returned. do you not understand how overwhelming this is?" you were scared. everything was happening so fast. 
you just found out that you had been dead for two years, and now these people are trying to push this life in you that you know god and well that wasn't yours. you don't know who these people are, and they were making absurd accusations. maybe you really were in the wrong part of the forest.
"y/n stop joking around. do you not remember us? you are neteyam's twin sister for crying out loud. how can you be cruel enough to pull a joke like this? have we not suffered enough?" lo'ak was fed up with this whole situation. you were his sister, dammit. how could you not remember that? neteyam is your twin. you, tuk, and kiri were sisters. they're standing right in front of you, just begging you to run into their arms so they can embrace you.
you looked at the teenage boy oddly. like he had three heads. he doesn't know what he's talking about. these people are so pushy and demanding; you can't come from a family like this. you thought about it, and you knew they would be able to catch you if you tried to make a break for it, but you didn't want to be here anymore. 
lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the family's eldest son walking up to you. he gently grabbed your shoulders, looking directly into your eyes that were identical to his. 
"you could not have forgotten about your twin brother have you, sister?" his words were soft. they sounded broken like he was hurting inside. from what? you don't know, but this isn't your problem to deal with. these people obviously lost somebody, but it is not you. you are not from here. so you hatched a plan in your head. 
"maybe i just need to walk around the forest and re-familiarize myself. it–" you choked on your words, not even wanting to say it.
"it could help me regain my memories. and then we can be a family again, yeah?" you look into the boy's eyes, noticing them shining a bit brighter. you gave him hope. 
that wasn't your intention. you just wanted to leave, so to make yourself 100x more believable, you hugged him. with all the strength you had in your body, which wasn't much. 
everyone was shocked. even neteyam, but he didn't want to lose this moment, so he hugged you back tight, so you could feel his love but not too tight because of how weak you are. you pulled back from the hug, bowing slightly to everyone before you walked in the direction that you and the tsahik came from so you wouldn't seem lost. you looked back before you could fully disappear into the trees. eyes meeting those of the people who claimed to be your family. looking at them, you didn't even see where you would fit in. they already looked whole. so you managed a small fake smile, sent them a small wave, and continued your trek through the forest, trying to get as far away from the omatikaya people as possible.
by the time they realize you're gone, you'll already be way too far for them to find you. you wandered around, wondering why the great-mother returned you like this? did you not deserve to keep your memories?
almost as if she heard your question, the great mother flashed an image in your head. it was different shades of forest green, with indigo spots placed randomly around its body, looking almost like flowers. its wings were majestic, but you couldn't pinpoint what you had seen until it landed right in front of you, keeping you from walking off a cliff you hadn't even realized you were walking towards. 
you couldn't believe that after two years of being gone, your ikran, syulang, was still alive. you named her syulang because, yes, of course, she looks like she's covered in flowers, but unlike other ikrans, syu was quiet, elegant, almost undetectable in the air. you would never hear her flying anywhere, and nobody knew why. the air would run smoothly over her wings, completely muting the sound of the wind rushing by in comparison to the usual loud, noisy ikrans that everyone else had tamed. syulang was delicate, like a flower.  "syu! hi girl, oh my goodness you’re alive." you said as you created your tsaheylu with her for the first time in years. it felt like the first time all over again, except without the part where she tried to kill you. syulang was happy to see you as well, nuzzling into you. "syulang, we have to go. right now. come on girl, take me home." when you said this, syulang made a noise of confusion but allowed you to mount her anyways. the two of you took off into the night, the eclipse making it too dark for anyone to notice that an ikran was out flying. not like they would hear syulang anyways.
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it's been hours. you still hadn't come back from the forest, and the sullys were getting worried. everyone was tense and stressed until kiri spoke up. 
"she ran away," the teenage girl hadn't even realized it was herself who had spoken. she looked up and made eye contact with everyone in her family, repeating herself.
"she ran away, and she is not going to come back." tears sprung to her eyes as she just wanted her sister to return home. it was like eywa was dangling the most precious thing to them right in their faces, and every time they reached out, she snatched it away. 
"she would not do that. she said she was just going on a walk. kiri have some faith in her. sure she did not remember us but she would not have hugged me if she was just gonna run away. she said she would come home." neteyam argued. he didn't want to believe that you had left them again, but that's what it was starting to seem like. 
"we will check the ikrans. if hers is still there, then she's around here somewhere. we can go out and look for her." syulang had not left your family's ikran nest since the day you had passed. she was too depressed to do anything with her hunter being dead. the sullys made sure to take care of her for you, knowing you wouldn't want syu to suffer like you did. honestly, syulang was the closest thing the sullys had to you after you died. they'd take turns taking care of her at night, bringing tuk every now and then so she could see syulang too. 
the walk to the family ikran nest was full of arguing. kiri said that neteyam and lo'ak had to come to their senses and realize that you were gone again. the boys refused to believe that you would leave again, but as they approached the ikran nest, seeing syulang's corner abandoned gave them the answer they fought over. 
you had left.
"i told you she left. i mean for eywa's sake you guys bombarded her as soon as she got here!" kiri yelled at her family. she knew this was just displaced anger and that she didn't really mean it, but she was tired of holding her tongue. 
"don’t you dare say we bombarded her! she is my twin who died in front of me! eywa forgive me for wanting to hug her after she's been dead for two years!" neteyam yelled back at kiri; this just caused a huge family argument to break out.
tuk, who was standing to the side watching her family fall apart, couldn't help but cry. she just wanted her family to go back to normal. "stop fighting…" it came out as a whisper, her family arguing so loud that they hadn't even heard her. so she decided to make them hear her.
"STOP FIGHTING!!" everyones' heads snapped at the youngest sully child. little tuk had just raised her voice at them for the first time ever.
"give me a break! we are all hurt okay?! us, y/n, grandma, the clan? everyone is sad! we did bombard her! she has not been here for two years. we should have let her settle in first. i get it. you guys miss her. so do i, but ma sa'nu when you talked to her she looked so confused and scared. and nete, when she was hugging you her eyes were so empty. she looked so lost. we scared her away. we had a chance to make things normal again, to be a family again and all you guys could do was be selfish and think about yourselves!! i just miss her. i want her to come back, i–" tuk couldn't even finish what she was saying as her sobs overcame her. neytiri scooped up her youngest daughter, cradling her in her arms, trying to soothe her harsh cries.
tuk had just lectured their entire family, and nobody could be mad at her because she was right. neytiri realized that she had been pushy. jake and lo'ak, too, but it wasn't because they were trying to scare you. they just missed you so much they couldn't contain themselves. they had been selfish, putting their feelings over yours once again. it was the same way they lost you last time, and now, who knows where you went or when you left. the family just remained in their ikrans nest that night, needing all the warmth they could get as they all just held each other and cried.
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you didn't think you could fly any longer. it had already been a few days, and you didn't see the forest anymore. you already didn't have a lot of energy due to you being dead for two years, but it didn't help that you left with absolutely no supplies to survive on your own. everything was starting to look the same. you felt like you were going in circles, seeing the same islands over and over. the ocean water was beautiful, you had to admit, but right now, all you could think about was if it would cushion your fall if you fell off your ikran. you knew it was only moments before you passed out from exhaustion.
the world started to spin as if it wasn't already, your vision was in and out, and you felt sleepy. you were exhausted and couldn't fly another second. as your body completely shut down, you fell off your ikran and into the waters below you, your tsaheylu disconnecting in the process.
had it not been for the hunters out at three brothers rock, you would have died. they noticed your ikran flying in the direction of their mainland, assuming you were a visitor and that they would meet you when they got back to the island, but they knew something was wrong when they noticed your form plummeting from the extreme height, completely motionless. 
they only took a few minutes to have you on the rock. they were nervous about doing cpr on you because you looked to be a teenager.
"ao'nung, come over here!" the hunter in charge called over the olo'eyktans son.
"what is it?" he said, noticing the tension in the air. he looked down, seeing you unconscious on the ground. his eyes widened. where had you come from? pushing that question aside, ao'nung took in your appearance, noticing how thin and weak you looked. he didn't know what it was, but it stirred something in him. you reminded him of his little sister, tsireya. if this was her, he would want one of the hunters to save her, so he put one arm under your shoulders and another under your leg and slid into the water, calling out to his ilu. 
"i'm bringing her to my mother immediately. she looks weak. i don't even know if she'll live, but i have to try." he said before taking off as fast as he could to the mainland. he noticed above him your ikran was flying at the same pace as him, probably too worried to leave your side.
when ao'nung got home holding an unconscious forest na'vi, he received a lot of weird glances from the clan's people, but he didn't care. he rushed home, looking for his mother.
pushing the flap open to see his mother had just put the last of her herbs away, ao'nung called out to his mom. 
"sa'nu! help! i– she needs help. please." hearing her son in distress, ronal was quick to give him her attention. instructing to lay the girl on the floor, she reminded herself to ask him where he had found her, but right now, she prioritized saving your life. she tried a healing remedy that would've usually worked, but you remained motionless. ronal put her ear to your chest, your heart was beating, but it was very faint. she knew only one thing she could do now, and it was the riskiest healing remedy known by all tsahiks. it has a minimal success rate but has healed some of the deadliest injuries known to eywa.  
once the remedy was made entirely, ronal told ao'nung to get out and find his father and sister before coming back. the boy nodded, walking out to find his sister. 
when he spotted tsireya riding on the ilus with her friends, he called her over. tsireya noticed her brother looked a bit more anxious than usual, so she excused herself and walked over. 
"brother what is wro– oh!" ao'nung pulled his little sister into the tightest hug he could muster. she remained shocked as her brother wasn't really one for physical affection at all unless it was from his mother. 
"please just– don't die on me, okay? at least not anytime soon. promise me, okay?" he said, pulling back and grabbing her shoulders as he looked into his sister's eyes. she just nodded and walked alongside her brother, wondering what on earth had him shaken up like this. 
upon retrieving his father, ao'nung returned with his father and his sister in tow. when they entered the tent, you were in ronal's arms, crying your heart out. the woman just looked up to her family, shushing them as she continued to provide you comfort. hearing your cries throughout their home hurt their hearts. you cried like you were hurt like you had experienced grave pain, and it was coming back to haunt you. 
from this moment on, the family decided they would take you in. they didn't know who or where you were from, but they wanted to heal you of this pain. their hearts hurt hearing how much pain your heart had to endure. there's a reason why eywa brought you to them, and they were not about to let you go.
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you had been living amongst the metkayina clan for about half a year now. you weren't even recognizable from when you had arrived at the clan. when you got here, you were thin as a twig, you never had the energy to do anything, and you cried yourself to sleep every night. now, you had filled out your form, even gaining a bit of muscle from adapting to the metkayina ways. you had also completed your iknimaya, which meant you were allowed to get a tattoo. you choose to get two. the pain was well worth it, though, because once your leg sleeve and arm tattoo were complete, you couldn't have been happier. 
you finally felt like your life was worth living again. you no longer cried yourself to sleep; instead, you snuck out with your brother and sister, going to the small island where all the young na'vi hang out. you were finally happy. the great mother had brought you home. she had returned you to your family. 
the only odd thing was your dreams recently. you dreamed of the forest, of nantangs, woodsprites, and ikrans. things that have nothing to do with the metkayina. it was weird. you felt like eywa was trying to shove memories in your brain, but you were so at peace with your life that you disregarded it, too caught up, in reality, to be bothered by silly dreams. 
you loved life on the beaches, in the sand, underwater, just taking in the beauty of awat'alu as you sat on a rock. at the same time, you watched ao'nung, tsireya, and rotxo playing on their ilus in the water. they were splashing each other, just taking time to be the teenagers they knew they'll never be again. you were about to cannonball in the water to join them when you all heard the horns of the clan being blown, announcing new arrivals. 
you all stopped what you were doing, looking toward the screeches you heard. you knew that sound, that was bob, jake's ikran.
wait a minute… what?
whos jake?
‘jake sully’ said a voice in your head. you recognized it as she had spoken to you once before, but you couldn't remember where. 
why is this name coming to your head right now? you felt your wrist being grabbed by your sister, tsireya. she dragged you to the beaches of your clan's home, where everyone else had gathered. you stood behind your father, tonowari, as you continued to think about the name that came to your head. who is jake sully, and why did you just remember his name? 
"my children, ao'nung, tsireya, and–" tonowari paused, looking to his side at his children, realizing one was missing, until he turned around and realized you were just hiding behind him. 
"–and my youngest, y/n, will teach your children the ways of our home, so you do not suffer the burden of being useless here," tonowari stepped aside, pushing you in front of him, so the family who had arrived could see you. 
you looked up to make eye contact with the first person you spotted.
"tuktuk." the words were quiet from your mouth. the little girl, who had her head tucked into her mother's neck, perked up when she heard the nickname you used to call her.
"kiri, cut it out. that is not funny!" tuk said, looking at her sister, offended she would play a sick joke on her like that after they had just left their home. 
jake and neytiri decided to move their family from the omatikaya clan, deciding that being there reminded them too much of you. it hurt to continue to live on the soil that you died on. so they up and moved their whole family elsewhere, flying towards warmer air and gorgeous waters. they fully expected to be able to find uturu with jake being toruk makto and their war being over. what they hadn't expected to see was their dead runaway daughter standing amongst a sea of teal na'vi.
slowly walking towards the family, tonowari called out to you, but ronal placed her hand on her mate's chest, telling him to shut up and watch what was happening.
"tuktuk," you repeated as you walked towards the girl. when tuk realized that the voice was coming from in front of her and not behind her, she turned her head around, her yellow eyes meeting yours. 
"y/n!!" tuk practically dropped herself from her moms' arms, running up to you. 
you met her halfway, falling to your knees, pulling your little sister into a hug, her face in your neck as you supported her head. as you looked at each one of them, their names, faces, and memories came back. you remembered everything. 
"and you're neteyam, and lo'ak and kiri!" when your siblings heard you say their names, it was like a switch in them flipped. within seconds they were all in the sand hugging you and tuk, crying because you finally remembered them. 
you pulled back from the hug, looking at the two people who hadn't joined the hug yet. 
"sempu," you said, reaching your hand out to jake. he didn't even try to conceal his tears as he allowed himself to join his children in their hug. 
your mother still stood there in awe. neytiri was scared. she was the reason you left last time and didn't want to scare you away again, so she just stood with tears rolling down her face, not knowing what to do. for the first time in her life, neytiri didn't know what to do. 
you could see the hesitation in her eyes. but you were confused as to why. neytiri was the only one who treated you right before you died… so why is she the last to come to you.
"mom?" you called out to her, but she didn't move. did she not want you anymore? has she gotten used to the family without you? 
you tried once more, refusing to lose your family again. "sa'nu, please." a tear rolled down your cheek, looking into your mother's eyes. you saw all the hurt and stress, everything she had to endure while you were gone. 
hearing you call her sa'nu was the last push neytiri needed before she fell to her knees and joined her family's embrace. you have returned. you returned to your family, and you were safe. everyone pulled back from you, taking in your appearance. you had matured a lot since the last time they saw you. you and neteyam were about the same height now, but your muscles surpassed his due to all the swimming you do. 
you noticed that he had noticed too, and you just nudged his shoulder with your own, "do not worry, twin, i will teach you everything you will need to know. maybe you will grow up to be big and strong like me," you teased your twin. neteyam rolled his eyes, laughing along with you. 
"woah! y/n, you have a tattoo?" lo'ak asked as he looked at your left leg. you just laughed at his silly question. of course, that's the first thing he asks you. 
"she has two! there's one on this arm as well," kiri said, holding out your right arm so they could see the tattoo that you had there as well. 
"no fair, mom, i want a tattoo." tuk said, whining to her mother. neytiri laughed at her daughter's statement and just pet her head, moving her braids out her face. "maybe when you're older, tuk," she said.
"babygirl," your father grabbed your attention. "i just want you to know that we are all so sorry for how we treated you before you past–" you cut your father off, shaking your head. 
"it is in the past. the great mother may have returned my memories but it is me who gets to choose which ones to remember. i want to leave the past behind me. i have found a new home here. new peace. a found family who loves me dearly. i don't want you guys to feel like you have to atone to anything. eywa has given us a new start, so i think we should welcome it with open arms instead of trying to mend that has already been healed," you really had matured in your time away from the sullys. 
they all looked at one another. if that was what you wanted, they would be sure to leave the past in the past so they can embrace the chance to make things right with you. 
you stood, the rest of the sullys following. you walked back over to tonowari and ronal, pulling them into a hug. 
"just because my memories have returned does not mean that you are not my family anymore. you have all helped and healed me from wounds that i did not know i had so i can only thank you, sempu, sa'nu. you guys are my found family and i would not trade you for the world." smiling up at your other parents. Wow, this is gonna get confusing, but you were more than excited to have two families. 
you looked over and pulled ao'nung and tsireya into the hug as well. "you guys, too, thank you so much," you said to your siblings. they couldn't do anything but hug you back. you may not be their biological blood, but they could care less. you are now one of their people. ronal and tonowari will always see you as their daughter, and ao'nung and tsireya will always see you as their sister. you will always be family to them. 
you and tsireya decided to guide the sully family to their new home, as ronal had allowed them to stay. you noticed that lo'ak was eying your sister up quite a bit and decided that you would tease him about it later. you were just happy to finally feel at peace. you finally had the family, the life you had dreamed of. 
you couldn't do anything except thank eywa for all the good she brought into your life. 
‘you're welcome, my child.’ it was the same voice that you heard earlier. when you realized that she was responding to your thanks, if you finally clicked whose voice you were hearing. 
it was eywa.
she was with you. she had always been. throughout this journey, she made sure to stick by your side. that was something that you couldn't be more grateful for. 
‘be free my child, allow nothing from here on out to hold you back. you are meant to live a happy life, and now you are able to do so.’
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directdogman · 2 months ago
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Hi, I hope you're having a decent day! I'm sorry if this is an invasive set of questions - feel free not to answer - but do you still actively like DSaF as your own creation, or is it more of a "it was fun while it lasted but i outgrew it and it's for the best to leave it behind" kind of project? Do you ever regret making the games? If you knew they would get so popular, is there anything you would have changed about them? Is there anywhere I could read more of your writing.
It fluctuates a bit. These last couple of years, I've really just been sorta nostalgic for it. I've seen a lot of people discuss those games being a source of comfort during bad times in their lives, people talking about how much the characters mean to them and it's hard not to smile when you see that.
It's a funny thing for close friends of yours to see people WITH fanmade DSaF merch out in the wild, or to watch a random youtube video and being hit with a DSaF reference outta nowhere. It happens from time to time, even today. On a few occasions, I've even had a person reference my work to me in real life and not realize who they were talking to, believe it or not. It's really fun to play dumb and get someone to explain your work to you like you don't know what it is.
I certainly didn't think any of that would happen when I first made the series, or even during development. I think the normal assumption would be to look at DSaF as it exists now and assume its release was a peak for it, but believe it or not, the official discord only had 30 people in it shortly before 3 dropped! The archive listing of the series (reposted to a single page after the series ended) is now sitting at over 1.1 MILLION downloads.
People kinda assume the true heyday of something is when it's new, when it's fresh and novel. For instance, some people look back at when FNaF itself was new and see that time as its peak because it had a lot of internet cultural relevance as big new indie thing on the block. But, raw numbers don't lie. The series has been continually growing since its conception and that growth has similarly bled over to its fan projects. This explains why DSaF, despite not having a new series release in almost 6 years, seems to be inexplicably growing.
Just recently, I saw someone post footage of a scene from DSaF 2 on Twitter, which got over 16k likes. People praised its writing and largely celebrated the scene. The ironic thing about that particular scene is that I remembered being unsure if it was good or not, so I showed it off in one of the FNaF community hubs. The response was broadly lukewarm to negative. Now, it's held up as one of the best scenes in those games. That's kind of the point I'm trying to make, my thoughts on the series have certainly changed with everyone's else with years of hindsight.
Heh. I'm not sure if I've talked about this in a long time, but y'know, the very first scene I implemented in-game was actually the very first Phone Guy scene in DSaF 1, more or less exactly how it appears in-game today. This was before I'd even written the bulk of the game. I was pretty unfamiliar with visual novels as a whole, pretty unsure if something like this would be palatable to a fandom that was really just used to sit 'n' survive stuff that were far more gameplay than text. I mean, there wasn't any FNaF fangames really LIKE DSaF before that point. Closest was FNaFb, a jokey turn based RPG made in the same engine.
The engine I made the game in is also not exactly fit for VNs out of the box either, and I wasn't 100% sure the idea would actually work. But, the very first time I added the image of the prize corner, Phone Guy, the audio of that iconic cheesy stock track and booted up a test screen, I had a little moment where I said "Oh. I think I'm onto something interesting here." I kinda remembering instantly realizing in that single moment how much potential the idea had. Over 8 years later, I still remember that moment like it was yesterday.
I think lately, that's the sort of stuff I think of when I see people coming to me and asking about the series. Yes, it's really rough around the edges, yes, there's jokes that've aged poorly. But, it is a source of comfort for people and entertains tens of thousands of people each month. And that's gotta count for something, right?
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joels-shitty-puns · 1 year ago
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I'm gonna make a request again (sorry your last one was too good for me not to ask again) but this time for a jealous Joel! Maybe the reader and him have been friends for a while and she's oblivious to his flirting and she finally lands a date? How it goes from there can be up to you! I just love the jealous and possessive trope.
The Jealousy Bug
Pairing: Jealous!Joel Miller x f!Reader
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Hi!! I'm so sorry this took me so long to write, but thank you for the request!! I hope you like it!! I got a lil carried away... hope its not too much smut.
~~~~~
(Reader and Joel live in Jackson, amid the apocalypse)
Word count: 6.8K (oof)
Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI!! Smut smut smut. P in V sex (likely unprotected but not specified. Its an apocalypse, yo.), masturbation (m and f), sort of dubcon? voyeurism?? sorta?, kissing, talk of genitals and arousal, horny behavior. Explicit language and mean names. Alcohol. Violence: infected, guns, punching, mention of a knife. Joel is kind of a jerk sometimes. Possessive. Mentions of loss and grief (all within S.1 of TLOU). I haven't played part II yet so we're just gonna ignore what we know happens there. Joel and Ellie are happy in Jackson. Joel and Reader are friends and sort of neighbors. Clueless idiots in love. A total asshole of a guy in the town. Lil bit of fluff/romance? Mention of bugs (pill bugs), but not in a gross way. If I missed anything, please let me know, and I apologize!
Other Stuff: Avoidance of reader descriptors, other than reader is AFAB. Mentions of having hair on the noggin. She/her pronouns. Reader is clueless and also clumsy as hell. Reader also drinks coffee and alcohol. Italics indicate thoughts.
__________
It was around 4PM when you filed into the community center for another mandatory patrol meeting. It may be an apocalypse, but even now, you wished this meeting could have been an email instead. Alas, that was a thing of the past, and you were unfortunately stuck listening to the usual spiel about necessary vs. unnecessary items to raid… The importance of remembering to ABC, “Always Be Cautious,” plants that can and can't be eaten, etc.
You sat in your usual spot, the back row next to Joel Miller. A year ago when you first moved to this town, first started patrol, you came into this very room not knowing anyone. Friend groups stuck together, each of the two front rows filled, yet a few empty spaces here and there. Instead, you walked towards the back of the room. A handsome man, who you soon learned was named Joel, sat by himself, three rows back, behind the last full aisle. He was alone. The whole aisle of chairs was empty. He sat with his arms crossed, and you could tell based on his posing that he was not the social type. 
You were feeling a bit nervous, having finally found a sort of civilization in this mess, and hoping the people of Jackson accept you and not just shoot you, like most camps do when they see unknown faces. Unsure where to sit, you continued to head towards the back, slightly drawn to the gorgeous gray-haired man in the last row. Not wanting to intrude, you sat at the far end from Joel. You could feel his eyes on you as you sat, but you didn't dare look over and make eye contact. Years of survival instincts have told you that, especially when someone doesn't want to be bothered.
_____
When you first walked into the room, Joel looked up. He sat in the back row, as usual, not wanting to get close to anyone. However, even if he did, nobody gave him the time of day. They have heard stories of what he’s done, they have seen him around town, often grumbling about something. They could tell he wanted to be left alone and they had no interest in testing how badly he wanted to be left alone.
Joel found it easier to not form connections. Tommy kept telling him to make friends, come around more, socialize in the town. But Joel had learned over the years why making connections never ends well. All he has is Tommy and Ellie, and neither of those were his initial decision, but Tommy is his only family, and somehow he let himself care for Ellie.
But when Joel saw you… there was a flash of longing. He saw you smile gently at Tommy with a small wave. He could see you shrink walking to your seat past the cliques. You were beautiful, and if it were pre-pandemic, you'd be the exact type he'd probably take interest to.
But those days are over.
Or… so he thought.
He set his eyes back down on his hands in his lap, avoiding eye contact with you when you sat down at the end of the row from him.
Why did she sit so far away? Am I that horrible to be around? His heart questioned.
You don't want to be near people anyway. Good she sat far away. Leave me alone. His brain tried to argue.
Tommy droned on and on, the meeting nearing an hour by now, and you could feel Joel’s eyes on the side of your face every few minutes. You don't know why he kept staring, but it made you feel nervous. Did you have something on your face or clothes? Did you smell bad?
Tommy knew his brother well, sometimes more than Joel likes to admit out loud, and as he talked, he took note of Joel’s staring. At first his expression looked confused, maybe irritated or disgusted. Then it looked slightly… disappointed. But he kept stealing glances your direction, and so with a smirk, Tommy assigned the two of you to be on patrol together. Joel questioned his reasoning afterward, but he knew there was no point arguing with his brother.
After that day, you patrolled together. You both went to the bar with the group after meetings. You sat closer and closer to Joel. You managed to get some words out of him, and he listened to you chatter on. But it was when you brought him a cup of coffee before patrol one morning that he finally let down his guard. His heart had betrayed his defenses.
“What's this?” He asked, gruffly.
“Coffee, Joel…” you replied with a joking eye roll. “It's black. I know you don't like anything in it.”
He took a sip, shocked to taste that you actually knew how he took his coffee. “How did you know that?”
“I notice things Joel.” You patted his shoulder, walking towards the group.
_____
Now, a year later, the two of you were very close friends. You still surprised him with things you remembered or noticed, but much to his chagrin, the one thing you didn't pick up on were his advances. He'd call you pet names, be sweet to you, treat you like a gentleman, flirt a little, and it was like talking to a robot. You were clueless.
Tonight's meeting finally ended, the large group heading outside to the chill fall air. “You wanna get drinks with the patrol squad?” you asked Joel. 
“Wouldn't miss it,” he winked at you, putting his leather jacket on his shoulders.
Although you went as a group, ultimately you and Joel spent most of the nights in your own little bubble, occasionally making space in your circle for Tommy, or Maria if she joined.
Tonight, the two of you sat at the bar, the patrol group spread throughout the room at different tables. Joel excused himself to use the restroom, and while he was gone, Jimmy, one of the other patrol members approached you. Hurrying before Joel returned, he flirted and asked you out on a date. You told him you'd think about it, that you weren't sure if you were ready for a relationship after years of caution.
Not technically a lie, you thought. Although you really just weren't ready for a relationship because your heart was already taken by your handsome best friend. 
Joel returned just in time to see Jimmy walking away. “What did he want?” Joel grumbled. “Ah nothin, just wanted to say hi while getting a drink,” you lied. Joel accepted this answer and the two of you drank into the night. At the end of the evening, you seemed pretty drunk. Jimmy offered to walk you home, but before you had a chance to reply, Joel replied for you.
“I'll take her home, thanks.” He bit, turning you away from Jimmy. “I don't like the idea of that boy walkin’ you home. Don't trust ‘im. ‘Specially not when you're in this condition,” he wrapped an arm around you, shuffling you toward the door.
“You don't think I can handle myself, Joel?” You asked him, pulling away, a little bit irritated at him treating you like a weakling. “I seem to do just fine on patrol,” you argued.
“I know that, sugar. I didn't mean it like that. I just don't trust that guy. Heard how he goes through women. Don't want him trying’ anything with you,” he brushed his hand over your hair, causing you to soften at his words and actions.
You gasped lightly. “Is THE Joel Miller… jealous?” You knew he wasn't, but why not test the waters?
“What? Jealous? Of what? No ‘m not.” he balked. “Just lookin’ out for you…”
“Mmhm… you just wanna be the only big strong man walking me home, huh?” You teased, tripping over your own feet. 
Joel caught you in his arms. “Big strong man, huh? ‘S that what you think of me?” 
Shit… did I say that? You panicked. Maybe I'm more drunk than I thought…
Deciding to tease it off, you replied, “well you do always seem to catch me when I fall…” with a wink.
Falling in more ways than one… you thought, frustrated.
He rubbed his neck with the hand not holding you upright. You could almost see a pink tinge to his cheeks.
No, that has to be the lights playing tricks on my eyes… you thought. No way Joel Miller was blushing at your words.
“I kinda have to, ya big klutz. Practically a liability. I oughta tell Tommy to add a safety section on patrolling with you,” he bantered.
“Ah, shut up” you laughed with a push, causing yourself to lose balance instead of Joel. He just gave a knowing look, causing you both to laugh as you continued walking, now side by side instead of him holding you up.
After a few moments of silence, you spoke up. “You know, I could've walked myself home, Joel,” you stumbled, giggling.  
“Whoa there, sweetheart.” He wrapped his arms around you again, propping you up. “Don't worry about it. Let's just get you home. You've had way too much to drink.”
“You're so sweet Joel,” you pouted at him, booping his nose. “Joelly Joel.” You giggled. “Jolly Joelly.” Another giggle. “I dunno why people think you're so grumpy. I think you're just a big teddy bear,” you closed your eyes, leaning your head on his shoulder while he stumbled forward, trying to keep you upright.
“Who says I'm grumpy, darlin’?” He tilted his head towards you, smirking. “The whole town, silly. Silly Joelly. Joely-poly.” You gasped abruptly, causing Joel to jerk and turn to face you. “What? What is it?” His hand reached for his knife on his hip. Old habits die hard.
“Joely-poly!!” You squealed. “Awe! Roly-polies. Remember those!? I used to love them when I was little.” You pouted. “Before this whole world went to shit.”
Joel thought back to the little pill bugs, playing in the dirt with them when he was younger. Teaching his own daughter about them. His heart aches for what he lost, but he also thinks of Ellie. He bets she would love the little bugs too.
“That's a cute nickname for you,” you smiled. “They're so cute. Just,” you booped his nose. “Like.” Boop. “You,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tight. Another gasp from your lips.
He flinched again. “Darlin’, if you don't quit that I swear-”
“Joeeeel!” You pouted. “Do you think the roly-polies all died off with the infection!?” Your eyes welled up.
“Oh, sweetheart, don't cry. There's probably still some out there. Bugs could get cordyceps long before the fungus attacked humans, and they were still alive back then.” You looked up into his deep brown eyes through your fluttering lashes. “You really think so?” You leaned in, placing both your hands on his cheeks. His breath caught in his chest. “Darlin’, you drank a lot tonight-” you cut off his sentence, running your hands down his neck, resting your palms on his chest. His heart was beating a mile a minute. If he didn't know better, he'd worry his heart would leap out and fly away. 
Your eyes lit up and you slid off his chest, lowering clumsily to the ground and gripping his sides for balance. You were now on your knees, eye level with his crotch, hands on his hips. His breath was ragged and his stomach full of twirling butterflies. “Wh-what do you think you're doin’?” He asked nervously. You looked up at him with big eyes, your hands slowly falling down from his hips to his thighs as you tried to balance yourself in your drunken state. He couldn't help but feel his pants begin to tent at the position you were in. He would never take advantage of you in your current state, but trying to ignore the desire brewing in his body after so many months of unrequited feelings was challenging. Did you finally see his advances for what they were? Feelings instead of friendliness?
You grinned up at him, finally regaining balance. “I'm gonna go look for ‘em!” you turned and waddled away on your knees, heading a couple feet away, towards a patch of flowers off the path.
She just needed to use me as a ladder, or what…? Joel thought to himself with a sigh and shaking his head in disappointment, his sexual frustration at its breaking point.
You crawled forward, falling onto your hands and knees in the soft dirt. Joel quickly stepped forward to try and grab you but realized, despite your lack of grace, you meant to do that. “Ugh… darlin', it's dark out here. It's cold. You're drunk. Let's get you home.”
“I'm looking for buggies, Joel!!” You leaned towards a leaf, arching downward so that your face was closer to the ground, ass up. 
“Oh, have mercy…” Joel groaned under his breath, his eyes drifting downward. Your ass was up in the air, facing him, the fabric of your dress having fallen forward towards your front. Your light pink panties were on full display for Joel, leaving little to his imagination in this position. Joel subtly adjusted his pants, looking up to the sky and shaking his head in a silent plea. 
You whined. “Joel, I don't see any.” You leaned farther forward, wiggling your butt somehow higher. Joel looked around, panicked at the thought that someone else might see you in this position. But luckily, you were close to your house and it was just the two of you out here. He turned back to you again. “I think it's time you get up and we go in-” you moved further forward, the streetlight shining above you and illuminating your ass. Joel tried to be a gentleman, but his eyes betrayed him. As he snuck another glance, he couldn't help but notice a little wet spot over the crotch of your panties. “In-inside…” he finished his sentence, words catching in his throat. He gulped, trying to divert his eyes. 
Taking a shaky breath and stepping forward, trying to ignore the throbbing need in his pants, he lightly grabbed your arm. “It's time to go sweetheart. The bugs are sleepin’ I think.” 
You looked at him and smiled mischievously. “I know, Joel,” you winked. Jumping up, you scampered towards your house, leaving Joel to wonder what the hell just happened.
“Woman's gonna be the death of me,” Joel muttered under his breath to himself. He caught up to you, just as you both approached your house. “Joel, I don't wanna go home. Can't I stay with you? And Ellie?” you batted your eyelashes at him. He rubbed his neck. “Ellie's with a friend tonight. But, you do have a point. You probably shouldn't be left by yourself in this state. Don't want you gettin’ hurt, or sick, and bein’ all alone.”
“Such a gentleman, Joel.” You touched his bicep, the two of you walking towards Joel's house across the street.
Hardly, he thought, grimacing at the reason he was aching in his trousers, feeling like an old creep, and a terrible excuse for a friend.
Once inside Joel's house, he gave you a baggy sleep shirt and a glass of water with some crackers to help with the alcohol. You changed, brushed your teeth with a spare toothbrush, and used the restroom. He let you have his bed, while he took the couch down the hall, scrunching his legs up to barely fit.
_____
Joel tried his hardest to ignore what he saw earlier and just go to bed, but the aching only continued, making it impossible to sleep. Sure that you must have fallen asleep by now, tucked away in his bed down the hall, he quietly reached into his pajama bottoms and boxers, pulling out his rock-hard penis. Even the mere touch of removing himself from his pants caused him to hiss, so worked up he could have cum just watching you bent over earlier.
He was a gentleman, but he was still a man, and one that hadn't been with a woman in a very long time. With as many people as he'd lost by one means or another, he'd told himself he wouldn't get close to anyone else. Sarah's mom. Sarah. Tess. Bill and Frank. Sam and Henry. He almost thought he had lost Tommy before Jackson, too. It was against his wishes that Ellie crawled her way into his heart, and then he almost lost her as well. He was beginning to think maybe it was him. He was cursed, doomed to have anyone he loved ripped away from him.
Which is why when you came to Jackson, he tried his best to ignore you. But you always greeted him, cheerful and sweet, like a little ball of sunshine that was somehow untarnished by the storm clouds of an apocalypse.
He was irritated to realize that he had made room in his heart for you. You caused an ache in his heart that yearned to be filled. A missing piece in his soul. A place for him to someday fit, tangled between sheets and loving words. It had been about a year since you moved to Jackson, and he still feared getting too close to you, yet he would try his hardest to woo you the way a gentleman should. Sweet nicknames, flirting, gentle touches. You never picked up on it. Whether or not you felt the same, he stupidly fell in love. Unsure if it was mutual, yet pretty sure it wasn't after all this time, he tried to ignore the dirty thoughts revolving around you when the late-night urges would hit him. Somehow it felt wrong.
But tonight, it was hard to avoid. Having you touch him. His face, his neck, his chest, his hips, his thighs. Kneeling eye level with his crotch. Slinking away, sticking your barely covered ass in the air, letting your wet panties be shown to him and only him. He couldn't get you out of his head as he stroked himself. First slowly, but then harder and faster, trying to reach his climax with the thought of him burying himself in that sweet spot underneath your wet underwear. How he longed to see you with his own eyes, begging for him.
He tried to be quiet, to keep himself hidden from you down the hall, but the noise of skin on skin grew slightly louder with each of his quiet moans and panting breaths that managed to slip from his lips. Imagining himself buried deep inside you, taking you from behind in the same position he saw you in earlier, imagining the tight grip around him and the slick noises he could only fantasize about. He could practically hear you moaning and sighing, the sound seeping from his subconscious to the living room. He pumped harder, swirling his thumb around the head, drooling with precum, as his climax grew closer. He could feel his strokes becoming less controlled and his balls pulling upward as he began to shoot load after load of white hot release up under his shirt onto his stomach. Stroking himself through it, he milked his last few ropes of cum out before laying back to catch his breath, slowly tucking himself back away in his pants.
Coming back to his senses, he realized the sounds of your moans and whimpers that he was imagining were still happening. Taken out of his fantasies when he finished, there was no reason for the sounds to still be in his head. Needing to grab a cloth from the linen closet down the hall anyway, he walked, nearing his bedroom door, and heard the unmistakable sound of you pleasuring yourself. Quietly, he padded down the hallway, closer to the door. He could tell you were trying to be quiet, but could still hear you, soft whimpers and pants, surrounded by wet schlick noises.
Fuck, he thought. He could feel himself already getting excited again, despite having just released a few minutes ago. He desperately wanted to join you in his bed, or at the least, stand by the door and listen to your sounds while pleasuring himself, but he wasn't going to be a creep, nor scare you to death. You were still his friend. Even if he did want to move the couch across the living room to hear you better.
_____
Meanwhile in Joel's room, you had tried to sleep. You really had. But tossing and turning, each roll causing your nose to be surrounded with his scent, you were thrown into a frenzy, like an animal in heat. Each smell of his cologne, shaving cream, deodorant, and natural body scent that you picked up from his bed sent a wave of arousal directly to your core. You wondered how many times he'd pleasured himself in this bed and how frequently. You wondered if he ever thought of you while doing it, imagining himself buried deep to the hilt inside of you, each drag of his cock more perfect than the last, much like you were imagining now.
You would be lying if you didn't say there were a lot of handsome men in Jackson. Granted, you had been without romance for a very long time, but still. Many of them were single, and some of them were very sweet and friendly. Yet for some strange reason, your heart had been drawn to Joel. The first moment you saw him, with his silvery curls and his grumpy face, his shining brown eyes and his patched beard, you were smitten. You were a bit disappointed that he seemed to be a massive grump, but despite what everyone said, he was always nice to you. Granted, you were always nice to him, so why should he be anything less, right?
He was always a total gentleman, calling you names like darlin’ and sweetheart, his southern drawl pulling you in like a lasso. His care for his unofficially-adopted daughter warmed your heart, and you could see he was a real family man from both their relationship, and the one he shared with his brother. It warmed your heart, especially when you befriended Tommy and Ellie, getting to hear them talk about Joel. Seeing the love they feel, even if they give him a hard time sometimes. You didn't see how people felt Joel was cruel or heartless, even with the stories you heard. Times were rough, and people did what they had to for survival. 
You were always too chicken to make a move, and you figured he wouldn't be interested anyway. Surely him calling you those names and being sweet with you was just his Southern gentlemanly nature, right? You were nice to him, he was nice to you. 
So tonight, when Jimmy, the local heartthrob in town, asked you on a date, you told him you'd think about it and let him know. Yeah, you claimed you weren't sure how you felt about relationships after all the world had become. Truth was, you wanted a last chance with Joel before throwing in the towel and settling for Jimmy.
Sure, Jimmy was handsome. Blonde hair, blue eyes, rugged, yet boyish. Several of the women in town had crushes on him, and he had had several of the women in town. You weren't clueless to the rumors about his playboy behavior. But it had been a while and well, you weren't getting any younger. It might be nice to have a partner, even if he did only want a short little fling. 
So throwing back a few drinks, you decided you needed the liquid courage to finally make a move at Joel. One last effort to get his attention. You still didn't want to say anything to him, lest it ruin your current friendship that had grown so strong, but you could certainly use your body to entice a little. Drinking just enough to be brave, yet not so drunk that you were completely out of it, you gave an impression you were much drunker than you were, and needed Joel to help you out. Jimmy had almost been the one to walk you home, to your disappointment, before Joel stepped in, seeming slightly irritated about Jimmy's offer.
Yet after practically waving your ass in his face, showing him your panties (which you were sure looked wet), being inches from his crotch at knee height, and hanging on him all the way home, to now sleeping in his house and his bed, you were quite sure he didn't feel the same. Obviously his gestures were pure gentlemanly charm if he didn't bite after tonight's show.
So you tried to sleep, still a little drunk, but getting drunker off his scent. You tried to ignore the ache between your legs but the thought of him in this bed, groaning as his hand pumped his member to completion, made you throb. Soaked and antsy, you finally gave in and stuck your hand under the waistband of your panties. You let your imagination run wild, picturing him taking you in this bed, bringing you to bliss more than once. You could practically hear him groaning and panting, the sound seeping from your subconscious to the bedroom.
Tomorrow you would likely tell Jimmy yes. But tonight, you would try your best to get Joel out of your system, one stroke of your fingers at a time. But as you finished, coming with a whisper of Joel's name under your breath, you could still hear the groans and pants from Joel. Climbing out of bed, you moved to the door, pressing your ear against it. You could just barely hear the sounds of him panting and groaning, intermittent with the fapping of skin on skin. Delightedly surprised, you listened harder, feeling your pussy drool at the thought. How desperately you wanted to go out into the living room and climb on top of him. But he might not want that… he probably just couldn't sleep. Probably nothing to do with the scene you put on earlier. So instead, you slinked back to his bed, opting for round two.
At some point, the two of you fell asleep, panting and writhing with the self-induced pleasure, and the sound of each other through the door.
_____
The next morning, you awoke, walking down the hall to see Joel in his pajama bottoms and no shirt, making coffee. Your eyes scanned his broad shoulders and back, naked and tan. Bringing you back to last night's events, you felt your breath catching in your chest. 
“M-morning” you stuttered out, nervously.
Joel jumped, having not heard you. He turned, greeting you with a good morning. A faint blush crept across his cheeks and he quickly turned his head to pour a cup of coffee, offering you some as well. Thanking him, the two of you sipped in silence, both stealing glances at the other and thinking of the night before. Both of you felt like you had a dirty little secret the other didn't know. 
“Thanks again for taking care of me last night,” you added. In more ways than one, you thought.
“Of course, darlin’. Couldn't have you walkin’ home all alone or getting sick in the middle of the night. You're always welcome here,” he smiled.
“Well, I guess I better head to my house now,” you sighed. “See you later at patrol?”
“Course. Take care, sugar.” He brushed his hand over your arm. That's new… you thought. But still, probably friendly, unfortunately.
____
Hours later, you show up to patrol, noticing Joel hasn't arrived yet. Still a few minutes early, you look at the map, thinking over the route. You felt a tap on your shoulder, and turned around to see Jimmy. 
“Hey, Jimmy,” you greeted, feeling slightly awkward. You assumed he probably wanted (and deserved) an answer. You rubbed your arm nervously, staring at the ground, wondering what to tell him. He was handsome, you thought, and you weren't getting anywhere with Joel. 
“Did you, uh” Jimmy scratched behind his ear, “give any more thought to that date?”
Geesh. Not a lot of thinking time here…
“I did,” you replied. “I think… My answer is yes. I'll go out with you.” You felt a pang of regret in your stomach, but you wanted a connection, and you just weren't getting that from Joel, despite what you wanted to think from last night.
Jimmy grinned. “Really?” He picked up your hand, holding it in his. “That's great. I know you have patrol today, but maybe Friday? I'll meet you at your house at 6?” 
“Sure,” you gave a small fake smile. “Sounds great.” He still held your hand, warm and soft and nothing like the rugged, large, callused hands of hard-working Joel. Although Joel has never held your hand, the times he's touched your arms, or held you up on your walk from the bar, he left a trail of goosebumps and butterflies in his wake, despite being warm to the touch.
Jimmy went to kiss your hand, just as Joel walked up. “What’s goin’ on here, huh?” He asked, seeming almost… angry, looking from Jimmy, to your connected hands, over to your face. “Joel,” Jimmy dropped your hand, giving Joel a curt nod.
“Jimmy..” Joel replied, teeth clenched. 
“I'll see you Friday,” Jimmy smiled at you, touching your shoulder before walking away.
“What did that little asshole want?” Joel growled.
“Geez Joel, chill out. What's your problem? I'm not allowed to talk to people?” You crossed your arms.
“I toldja last night. I don't trust that kid. Too busy sleepin’ around with the whole town. What's he talkin’ to you for?” Joel furrowed his brow, looking over at Jimmy across the room, now talking to some of the other patrolmen.
“Gosh Joel.. seriously what is wrong with you? First of all, he's hardly a kid. He's at least in his thirties. Second of all, everyone he's been with, I'm sure has been consensual, otherwise Tommy would have kicked him out of the town. And lastly, but probably more important. What do you mean “what is he talking to you for?” You mocked in a deep voice. “Like I'm the only option he has left? Like I'm not deserving of a man talking to me? Not that it’s any of your business, friend, but for your information, Jimmy is taking me on a date on Friday. So fuck off, Joel.” You started to stomp away angrily, grabbing your pack off the desk.
“The fuck he is,” Joel muttered under his breath, so quiet you didn't hear and grabbing his pack as well.
_____
Five hours. Five hours of riding in complete silence, checking out abandoned buildings in complete silence, and taking breaks in complete silence. Even your first patrol wasn't this quiet, and you couldn't help but feel like he was somehow angry at you.
As irritated as you were with him, not talking to him somehow felt worse. This wasn't like him. Is this the grumpy side everyone talks about? Is this Joel, the asshole you have yet to meet?
Feeling confused, your eyes started to cloud, slightly teary with anger and sadness, yet also a bit of dread at going out with Jimmy. You blinked your eyes, sorting through the abandoned drug store you and Joel were in.
Finding some condoms on a shelf, you threw them in your pack. “What're you doin’?” Joel asked. “Those can't be sold, didn't you pay attention to Tommy? They're rarely effective this old.”
“Yes I paid attention, Joel. I know they can't be sold. They're for me. I figured it's better than nothing,” you replied bitterly. “I have a date in a couple days, I want to be prepared,” you scowled. Joel’s jaw clenched, but he didn't say anything, instead turning to look the other direction of the aisle.
Crouched down to search the bottom shelf for other items, Joel was still turned away from you, keeping lookout on the other end of the aisle. 
You didn't even hear the stalker leap around the corner from the shadows and pounce on you. It opened its mouth, fungal strands spreading from its mouth towards your face. Pure fear pulsed through your veins.
“Joel!!!!!” You cried out, using all your strength to try and push the infected off of your body, but it was too strong. 
You screamed and kicked, struggling to break free, when Joel fired his shotgun, shooting the enemy in the head and immediately running over to you. Throwing the infected off of your body as if it was weightless, Joel scooped you into his arms. His lips moved but you heard nothing. Your ears rang, high pitched squeals from adrenaline, fear, shock, and the bang of the shotgun.
Joel pawed over your body, roughly inspecting you for bites and wounds in a frenzy. When he didn't find any, he held you in his arms again. “It's okay baby, it's okay. You're alright sweetheart. Come back to me, it's okay. You're okay.” Your hearing must have returned. He rocked you, tears welling from your eyes and his. “You're okay. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.” He kissed your ear and the side of your head, still rocking you in a hug, sitting on the floor, inches from the now-dead infected. The two of you needed to get out of here, but neither of you could move yet.
Finally you spoke. “Why are you sorry Joel?” You asked with a sniffle. You wrapped your arm around his back, the other hand finding the back of his head, gripping his curls gently.
“I'm sorry for how I've been actin’ all day. I'm sorry I didn't see that stalker before he attacked. I'm sorry for being so possessive earlier. I'm sorry,” he held you tighter.
You pulled back to look into his eyes. “Joel, you couldn't have heard or seen that stalker. That's what they do best. You saved me and that's all that matters. As for earlier, you were being an asshole, and it did really hurt my feelings. All this time people have said you're such a jerk, and I didn't see it,” you pulled away from his grip, “but today I did.” You looked at your lap. “Don't I deserve to go on a date? Don't I deserve to have someone love me?” You picked at the hem of your pants, avoiding his eye contact.
“Oh, darlin', I'm so sorry. I never meant for you to feel that way. I just - you deserve something real, not a hookup like that guy wants. I know his type. He'll sleep with you and toss you aside. You deserve to be treated like a lady.”
You snorted. “Yeah, Joel. That's how things are nowadays, too. Gentleman just waiting to sweep me off my feet. Shit, you literally just saved me from near-death, something that happens all the time today, and yet you're saying I deserve love? To find romance? Yeah, right.”
Joel didn't say anything. He just looked into your eyes, lips pursed and moving to the side in thought. His eyes drifted to your lips and back up to your sight.
You continued. “I don't even like Jimmy,” you said quietly. “I like someone else, but I just got tired of waiting and wanted some kind of connection. Even if it's just a night in bed.” At the last part of your sentence, Joel grimaced, almost in pain. And then he thought.
“Wait,” he sat back a little, scanning your face. “Who do you like?” 
You gulped. Why not a little more adrenaline? “Well, it was you, until you started acting like an asshole. But I realized you probably didn't feel the same way a while ago. Especially after I practically threw myself at you last night.”
“Threw yourself at me last night? What are you talkin’ about? You were drunk,” Joel answered.
“I wasn't that drunk, Joel. My movements were pretty planned. The placement of my touches on your body. My ass angled up in your direction. I wanted you,” you added, pointedly.
Joel looked like he was solving a complicated math problem. “So you… last night when you… I heard you, in bed, pleasurin’ yourself. Were you… thinking about me?”
You looked up at him in shock and panic. “You heard me?” You asked in a frantic whisper.
“Yeah, I uh… I did. I got up to get a towel and heard your uh… sounds” he cleared his throat.
“I guess I should tell you then that I heard you too,” you said with a smirk.
Joel swallowed, hard. “Y-ya heard me?”
“Yep” you replied, popping your lips on the p sound.
Joel had nothing to lose at this point. “I was thinking about you,” he proclaimed. “Thinkin’ bout that wet spot on your panties when you flashed your ass in the air. Wishin’ I was buried inside you.” He ran his hand across your thigh.
Your breathing picked up. “I was thinking about you too. Wishing you'd bust through that door and take me in your bed, running my nails down your back as we came together…” you mimicked the motion with your fingers down his jacket-clad back.
“Fuck,” he hissed, eyes closing. You glanced down at the noticeable bulge in his jeans. “I like you too, I just never thought you felt the same. Y’never seemed to pick up on any of my sweet talkin’ or my names for ya.”
“I just figured you were being nice,” you replied, glancing back into his eyes.
“You should know by now, I'm only nice to you,” he growled. “I'm sorry I ruined that today,” he glanced at your mouth, licking his lips. “Was just jealous. Want you all for myself,” he stroked your thigh again.
You sighed at the feeling, pulling him by his collar to kiss him deeply. The kiss was frantic and rough, both of you trying to get as much of each other as possible, a year of build-up boiling at the surface. Teeth clashed and tongues danced and you pulled each other closer, grasping at clothes and skin. 
The two of you broke the kiss, needing a gasp of air. You started to take off your shirt when Joel stopped you. “Whoa, darlin'. I want you just as bad, but not here,” he gestured to the old building. “It's dangerous, not to mention gross in here. I wasn't kidding when I said you deserve romance,” he stood, pulling you to your feet. “We're about a 20 minute ride from base, let's head home. Make your fantasy of fuckin’ in my bed come true,” he winked, giving a smack to your ass. 
_____
The 20 minute ride felt never-ending as you both stole glances at each other, your panties still wet with arousal, and him still sporting the tent in his pants, which was hard to miss. 
Finally making it back to the stables, you both quickly undressed the horses and put gear away, about to head out of the barn when Jimmy and his partner rode up. “Hey, babe,” he called to you. It sounded wrong from his mouth. Joel tensed at your side.
Dismounting his horse, Jimmy strolled over to you. “Hey Jimmy, I was thinking. I don't think I want to go on that date after all. I'm sorry, I just don't feel the same way.”
“What?” Jimmy asked in disbelief.
“I know, I'm sorry if I hurt you. I- I like someone else. I just didn't think they felt the same way,” you replied sheepishly.
“Fuck you,” he spat.
“What?” You were in disbelief.
“Fuck you, bitch. One of the few women in this town who won't fuckin’ put out. I was even gonna take you on some shitty date before I got you into bed, and now you make a fool of me? Nah, I don't think so,” he stalked towards you angrily. 
You stepped back, worried what he might do, but Joel stepped in first, nailing a punch at Jimmy's nose. “Don't you dare talk to her like that,” Joel yelled.
Tommy came running in, hearing the commotion. After hearing what happened, it was decided that Jimmy wouldn't be welcome in this town any longer.
Satisfied, you grabbed Joel's hand. “Why don't I show you who I really belong to?” You looked up at him, biting your lip.
“Lead the way, baby.” He pushed you forward, smacking your ass.
The two of you stumbled into his house, kissing with little regard for objects. Luckily, Ellie was still at a friend's house. The door slammed closed and you kissed furiously, undressing as you walked. Finally you reached his bedroom and fell onto the bed, where he made all your fantasies of the night prior come true. The two of you enjoyed the taste of each other's mouths, kissing and licking, while he pounded into you, leaving you breathless and screaming his name as you both came.
“That was even better than I imagined,” you sighed, rolling over onto his chest.
“That's my girl,” he cooed, kissing your head and rubbing your back.
“Mine,” he whispered.
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c4ttheart · 2 months ago
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3 times you were embarrassed (vulnerable) near yuta and one time it didn’t feel all that bad (yuta okkotsu x gn!reader wc 2.1k)
reader is a bit clueless and emotionally constipated bc that is my fav trope w yuta, mentions of animal death reader speaks in italics incase it isn’t clear enough
« i saw a dying bird on my way to class this morning. »
yuta quirks an eyebrow, unsure of where the conversation is leading or why you’re even speaking to him in the first place.
« it reminded me of you. » you continue, as the boy next to you chokes on his drink. you scoff and wipe away the droplets that have landed on your shirt and glare at him.
his cheeks are flushed with embarrassment from the harshness of your stare, yet he does not speak up. he is way too afraid to do so.
you lean back against the stairs you are resting on, watching as maki flings her weapon into the air with precision. it seems she has started to warm up to yuta, considering how their practice sessions have become less agressive. you are the only one here who has yet to get to know him, but somehow, you cannot. your way of introducing yourself is speaking about dead animals, something that would make gojo call you emotionally constipated if he was here.
« uhm, how so ? » yuta asks, carefully, as if he’s afraid of angering you.
you sigh, making him tense up. « it was weak and useless, but nevertheless, it was trying it’s best to survive. and i realised that i was not helping, being but a simple bypasser. »
you look at him, while he holds your stare quizzically.
« i’ll try to not make your survival as harsh from now on. » is your conclusion, and your body silently fights itself to not run away from embarrassment. you think this is the kindest you have ever been to someone, and it makes you want to curl your toes and clench your teeth. yuta smiles kindly in response, with eyes so empathetic it makes your breath hitch. he looks like he understands what you’re trying to say and how hard it is for you to say it, but before he can answer, he is pulled to the side by maki, meaning his break is officially over.
he waves goodbye to you, and you watch him leave. you do not wave back, but you do not look away.
( eventually, some time later, you do let your walls down and call yuta your friend. )
it is late at night when he finds you, sitting outside like you always do.
« hey. » he mumbles, cold nibbling at his skin.
you look at him only.
yuta sits himself on the bench next to you, bringing his knees up to his chest to keep the warmth flowing in his body. you do not speak, so neither does he.
the trees rustle together from the breeze and you do not shiver even though he can see the slight chicken pox forming on the skin of your arm, the one that is not covered by your pyjama.
you have the same eyes as his mother, he realises. the one that are always empty, staring at something unattainable in the distance. the ones that are so deep they look like they could hold the ocean in them and never let go. yuta thinks you probably have never cried. or else your eyes would be a little less vast.
you sigh when you catch his stare, but it has a hint of something happier.
« i used to hate you, y’know. » you mumble, observing the way your legs swing back and forth. he nods.
he fiddles with his fingers as he opens his mouth, « why ? », he asks, so careful, like he has always been around you.
you hum in satisfaction when you hear the answer you were expecting, but you do not reply. you furrow your brows and he notices, gently placing his hand on your shoulder. (although he immediately flinches and moves away when you turn to look at him.)
emotions have never been your forte. speaking about them is worse. but then you see his face, so curious yet so scared and you remember the bird, that if you had let it die you would’ve been an accomplice in its murder. you think of how you helped it spread its wings till it was ready to break the shackle surrounding them. you remember that he is him, and yuta would never hurt you the way you hurt yourself. so you let out a small smile and intertwine your pinkies because his hand is moist and it feels a little too warm around your shoulder but you get too cold without him.
« i hate change. you represented that. »
the rest of the night was a blur. you talked back and forth without a sense of direction, about things you have now forgotten. but you remember walking back with the weight under your eyes heavier than the one on your shoulders and you heart beating but the tiniest bit faster.
« you could always choose to stay. »
you were the last person he broke the news to. like he was delaying the inevitable, as if he was afraid of what you would react.
yuta gulps, watching as you sort through a pile of paper from your classes. you do not say anything else, but you do not look at him. it seems as if, for once, the ocean wishes to feel more than just the sand.
« (name)..? » he speaks again, but you do not waver. you do not turn your neck to look at him. you keep on going like he was never here in the first place.
there are three piles in total on the floor. the main one, that you are sorting into two: one he presumes you want to keep, and the other you’re throwing away, considering how it is primarily composed of ripped off notebook pages with various doodles inked on them. but he realises that you are not sorting them anymore. you are throwing your papers into random piles, without even looking at them first. a frown tugs at his lips. it is your way of making him leave, of telling him you’re busy. but he wants to say goodbye.
so he sits on the floor besides you, and for once, he is the one doing the talking. « you know, just because you won’t acknowledge it doesn’t mean it isn’t real. » he starts, and your hands freeze.
he intertwines your pinkies together, because you are touch starved but you don’t like to admit it.
« i’m leaving, (name), but that doesn’t mean i’m not coming back. »
« how far ? » you ask, eyes still cast downwards. he smiles bitterly. « close enough to come back every now and then. »
he’s lying, but you don’t have to know that just yet. you’re smart enough to figure out, but hopefully not right now.
« and hey, listen, i know you don’t like change, but sometimes it’s necessary. it’s a part of the world we live in. we’re constantly evolving. maybe its scary, but i can promise you that when i come back, you’ll never see a bird struggling to survive. » he says as he tightens the grip he has on your finger.
your eyebrows furrow. it seems a storm is coming in. your lips quiver. the waves are fighting to stay inside. yuta lets go of your hand and places his arms around your neck. you have never been hugged like this, especially not by him. tears run down your cheeks and you clutch his waist like the world depends on it. he does not complain.
« it’s okay. you can cry, i won’t look. » and he doesn’t. he doesn’t say a word as you dampen his shirt, he doesn’t move a muscle as you squeeze him. you have never cried in front of people, but you suppose this time won’t count because no one really saw your tears.
you hold on to him even after your eyes are dried up until you don’t. your grip loosens and he understands it’s time to go. he smiles, but you are not looking. you let him leave, but you do not watch.
« you’re gonna have to talk to us one day. » maki says, and although it does not seem like it, you know the tone in her voice is worry.
you nod your head and pick up your weapon, signalling to toge that you’re ready. maki huffs, and although she is persistent, she walks away as to not get hurt by your sparring session. that doesn’t mean she’s giving up.
a damp towel is flung over your shoulders and your hair is dripping all over your dorm floor when you get a call. something inside you swirls in your stomach in a delightful way as you accept.
« hey. » you say, putting your phone down as you brush your hair.
« hey, you alright ? maki told me you didn’t seem all that good. »
you hum. « yeah, how was your first week in africa ? any suffering birds yet ? »
he laughs a little, and the sound of his voice being distorted through the phone makes you frown.
he rambles on and on about his training, but you do not care. it feels like a weight has been placed upon your cheeks, and you cannot bring yourself to do anything but pout.
« yuta, maki was right. »
that makes him stop. he waits for you to continue, like it’s part of his routine whenever you speak.
«  i don’t- it’s like. my stomach hurts. i can’t smile. »
« what !? do you need medicine ? » he replies, anguished.
« i don’t know. it doesn’t feel like that. »
a little oh is heard from his side followed by small laughs.
you scoff. « this isn’t funny. i don’t even know why i’m talking to you about this. »
« uhm, right, how do you feel right now ? »
« like you should be here to train with maki. » you answer, picking up your phone again so he could hear you better.
he hums. you furrow your brows. he isn’t helping at all. panda knocks at your door, asking for your charger. you indulge him.
as he sits on the floor near your bed, you turn to face him and press your phone on mute.
« hey panda, what does it mean if i feel like yuta should be here ? »
panda looks up at you, a small grin on his face. « it means you miss him. »
you let out an ‘oh.’ in response and thank him, grabbing your phone to talk to yuta somewhere more private.
« yuta ? »
« yes ? what happened ? you were gone for a bit. »
« i miss you. »
he chuckles, and you smile.
« i miss you too. » he answers, his grin being heard through his words.
you pick at your nails, ignoring the way your heart seems to beat faster in your chest. the same way his would beat when you’d grab his wrist.
« i’m still annoyed at you for leaving, though- » you say before your sentence is cut off abruptly by yuta.
« i miss you, like, a lot. » he rushes, and your cheeks heat up. you don’t answer to that, because you don’t really know what to say.
he sighs.
« (name), i was planning on saying this a week ago but you were crying and it just wasn’t the moment and then we just weren’t able to call but one of the reasons for that actually is because i was too nervous to speak to you and god and then maki told me you weren’t well and i was just like fuck it i really couldn’t care less about what i was feeling which made me realise that i really cherish our friendship and you’re a great person and i don’t want to lose you, you know ? »
you let out a small ‘yeah’ in response, because your words are stuck in your throat and you don’t know what else to say.
he sighs again, slowly, and you realise it sounds more like he’s taking deep breaths.
« (name), whatever happens, do you promise we’ll still be friends ? »
you bite your lip. what exactly is going to happen ? why would he do something so stupid that would risk your friendship ? nevertheless, you hum.
« god, um, i love you. »
you stop breathing for a second. the speed of your heart increases, and all of a sudden, all you can do is smile.
« since when ? » you ask. this doesn’t feel real.
he hums. « i think i always have been. since the first time you talked to me. when you spoke of that bird on the sidewalk. »
« you loved me even when i failed ? like when i cried ? »
you have always hated leaving your emotions on display for people to touch. it made you weak. why would he love someone with such flaws ?
«  i mean yeah, every time you opened up you showed me a part of yourself. and i like that, knowing that i know the whole you. »
« i think- i think i love you too. »
i hatz the ending rahhh thank you to my proofreader @ownerofsix love you baba
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yan-lorkai · 4 months ago
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Since I absolutely adored your fic on escaping Idia, could you by chance do something with a reader that broke up with him only to find out she was pregnant later? Honestly, I just want the drama of the reader raising this child alone and Idia finding out down that his ex had a kid.
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.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I took this request and ran with it, I hope you like the drama! ⁽⁠⁽⁠ଘ⁠(⁠ ⁠ˊ⁠ᵕ⁠ˋ⁠ ⁠)⁠ଓ⁠⁾⁠⁾
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, mention of stalking and controlling tendencies, threats, poison mention, afab!reader but no pronouns used.
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"You robbed me from being her father." Idia didn't sound angry. But there was a bitter taste that lingered on his tongue when he looked at you, the love of his life from when he was just a teenager and your child, sleepy on his arms, same blue hair shining under the dim lights. "I may not like it, but I understand why you did it. I'm so sorry that you didn't feel like you could tell me though."
In any other world, you could feel yourself melting at the scene that was so domestic, so sweet. But right now, when you are coming home, tired and hungry and seeing Idia sitting on your favorite armchair while he held your daughter so dearly and carefully in his arms? A shaky gasp left you, your heart starting to beat loudly in your chest as you watched each and every moviment he made, conscious of every chuckle, of his chest raised, of his eyes that lost their soft gaze and we're hardened now.
You still remember how he used to treat you when both of you were younger, he was like a spider weaving his web full of possessiveness, his words twisted to make you feel like he was the only one who could understand, love and treat you like you deserved.
You were dumb and innocent but dumb and innocent people don't survive for long out there. And when you realized that something was wrong, you had to do what you had to do in order to survive and escape him.
For seven long years you survived. But you felt as if a threat of death was looming over you for as long as you were stared by your ex-boyfriend - he didn't reacted well when you broke up with him. Like always, Idia threw a tantrum, begged and cried and screamed for you to stay, holding onto your legs pathetically. Though now he was older and got a more mature beauty to him, his eyes, so yellow, they were like diamonds watching you.
Your eyes followed the way his fingers moved and toyed with your daughter's hair, a tiny smile on her little lips as she got even comfier in his arms.
This was what you used to imagine when you lay in bed awake, thinking about the what ifs. What if you stayed? What if Idia was just a normal, good and plain guy that didn't scared you? Would he love his child? He did thought he was cursed, fated forever to always watch over the underworld gates, he told you himself. There were so many uncertainties, so much toxicity that you just ran away from your problems and him.
And now your past returned to bite you back.
"You should have told me. We could have done this together." Even he sounds unsure at that, a bit contemplative and thoughtful as he ponders what could have been of his life if he knew earlier about your pregnancy.
Toothy grin growing on his lips as he noticed your disgusted stare, so happy he could still make you feel something - anything was better than your hate, after all. The tick tock was the only sound echoing for a long moment before the growing anger bubbles up on your chest, not believing a single syllable that left his mouth.
"You got to be kidding!" You count on your fingers the number of creepy things he did, feeling your whole body shaking. Either from anger or fear, you can't tell. But it surely amuses Idia, who's smiling wider now. "Stalking me, watching me through the cameras, threatening my friends, you even tapped my phone and used to read my messages like they were a magazine, Idia! A kid wouldn't grown up to be healthy and normal around a freak like you."
You pointed in his direction, your finger jabbing at his face.
The illusion of a family had to end before it even begin. It was his fault that everything turned out to be this way and even with seven whole years passing by, Idia still wasn't able to see this. He was helpless, beyond help.
"That's a funny way to see things, Yuu-shi." He giggled softly, making you wince, the sound so unfamiliar now, while he rearranged the covers to wrap around your child tightly, not wanting her to wake up. Not right now, at least. "From the way I see, you hid my child existence from me. And honestly, I bet it was so hard and tiring, wasn't it? You worked two jobs to raise her, after all."
Your child let out a sleepy giggle, mumbling something on her sleep about her mom and dad finally being reunited. Idia looked back at you, smugness irradiating from him in waves.
"The nerve you got, I can't!" In an instant you were before him. Your whole body fighting to suppress fear and disgust, fighting against whatever was trying paralyze you. You had to take your daughter. You had to take her from him. You had to protect her.
He hummed a little, taking your hand on his. His grip was gentle, reverent even but strong enough to let you know he could overpower you whenever he wanted. He was looking at you through his eyelashes.
And you didn't like how he was looking at you. Like you were a collectible that he wanted to bury on his closet, to hide to never be seen again. Like he knew something you don't.
Exactly how he used to look at you in the past.
"You don't deserve to hold her, you don't even deserve to be near her." You told him petulantly. She was nothing like him. She was kinder and radiant, a good girl. She wasn't a calculating monster like her father.
You took her in your arms and he let you do it, crossing one leg over the other as he threw his head back and laughed.
"You tell me that she wouldn't like me but did you know that she was happy to know who I was? Did you know that she confided in me that you were working so hard that she missed you greatly but didn't want to annoy you?" You rolled your eyes at his attempt at lying, unable to believe anything he said.
There were no signs nor change on your daughter's behavior that indicates that any of this was true. At least, that you think so. You knew her better than he did.
You glanced at him, his eyes still smug but there was a pleading glimmer inside them that almost begged you to believe him this time. Raising a child was difficult, even more when you were raising one alone and had to be there for them 24/07, available emotionally and physically for whatever your daughter needed.
Looking at her soft, round face, you felt a pang of guilty. Idia was telling the truth or he was just messing with your head again?
He's lying, you screamed in your head. Of course he is lying. Lying is far easier than admitting that he was downright toxic.
The memories of his lies and half-truths were still fresh in your mind even after all those years, making it difficult to discern the reality now. You had trouble trusting people even to these days because of him. But his words struck a chord inside of you.
What if it was true? Your little one was a little more skittish and silent around you the past few days. You didn't want to believe this possibility. You couldn't. You worked hard to always be there in every moment, to not let her realize how it was to not have a parent around.
Had you failed?
"Why should I believe you now?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "You did nothing but hurt me when we were together. I don't trust and I don't like how you are all cozy on my armchair, in fact, you are not welcomed here at all.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He obviously didn't want to talk about the past, it's not like he didn't know but in his twisted mind everything he had done to you was justified. Idia always do something with a purpose on mind.
"I know I've messed up before, more times than I can count. But this... this is different."
He gestured to your child, looking at her with a soft, fond gaze. You though didn't believed a second that he had a sudden change of heart just because of your child.
"It's true I didn't wanted a child because of my cursed blood and the fate that would await them. But when I hold her like this, nothing else seems to matter."
You scoffed at this, despising how sincere his voice was. "If you're telling the truth, why didn't she told me herself?"
"She was afraid, I guess. Afraid that you wouldn't understand or she didn't want to add to your stress. She thought she was doing the right thing." He exhaled slowly, the emotional turmoil inside him boiling over. Yet he forced himself to remain calm, to watch each and every step you make, every breathe you take.
Like a spider weaving its web.
His words hung in the air and you looked away, trying to sort through the conflicting emotions that surged within you. Trust had been broken before, boudaries ignored, there was no mending this. There was no salvaging the past, no matter how much he looked like a kicked puppy.
You held your daughter tighter. "Well, that was enlightening but I think you should go. Now."
Idia's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flickering within them as he stood up and lazily stretched. "You're still trying to push me away?" He asked, voice low and cold. "I won't stop you, of course, I get that you're still afraid and all but are you sure you want me to leave? I walked right into your house. Didn't you even wondered how I entered? Or where the nanny you hired went? Or why our daughter didn't woke up yet?"
Desperation crept into your voice, a sudden realisition that perhaps he would do something foolish such as harming his own flesh and blood. "Idia, what... What do you mean by all that?"
He tilted his head slightly. hiding the curve of a smile with his hand, studying you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. You could only wonder what kind of things he was thinking and you didn't like it not knowing what to expect. You stared at him, heart beating loudly as held your daughter closer to your chest.
He laughed, studying you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. "You're scared," It wasn't a question but an observation. His smile got bigger. "Good, you should be. You think you have a choice in this? Your daughter… she's already been exposed to a little something I concocted. A slow-acting poison."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked down at your daughter, now noticing that she was starting to tremble. "How could you do this?" You whispered, voice choked with emotion.
"Because I love you," Idia said, voice low and intense. Taking a step closer, he was staring you face to face now, warm breath over you. "And I won't let you go. Not now, not ever. We're meant to be together and I'll do whatever it takes to make sure that happens."
Your heart pounded in your chest, panic and anger swirling within you. "Give her the antidote, Idia. Please; I'II do anything."
"Not yet," He shook his head slowly, a twisted smile on his lips. His tone was almost gentle and soothing. "You'll come with me first. Once we're safe and together, then she'll get the antidote. But if you try anything... if you try to leave or call for help, well..."
He let the threat hang in the air, the implications clear. Like a wreacking ball he destroyed everything you've worked for all these years. You hated it. And you hated how powerless you were right here, right now.
You felt a wave of despair wash over you, the weight of the situation crushing you. Your daughter's life hanging in the balance and there was no choice but to comply.
"Alright," Vou whispered, voice breaking. You looked at him with hatred and something more you couldn't name, too worried with your daughter's health. "I'll come with you. Just... please don't hurt her."
Idia's smile widened, a flicker of triumph in his eyes. "That's more like it," he said, reaching out to gently touch your daughter's cheek. "We'll be a perfect family, just like I always wanted."
With your heart heavy and your daughter's safety foremost in your mind, you followed Idia, knowing that you were stepping into a nightmare again.
But you could always escape... Right?
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