#good morning i woke up still so sad
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
its not my intention to sound like im victim blaming in any way at all, just a bit of an extension of your post of how young stars are failed by people who were meant to mentor them to help them cope.
i’ve felt a lot of frustration with the boys these past few years and with liam specifically it was his inability to recognise the situation he was in and leave it behind. losing his sobriety so publicly, trying to gain fulfilment from a career that’s been struggling too long to be able to revive in any meaningful way, constantly digging himself a deeper hole to a point of relentless public humiliation. he didn’t have the right support system to help him deal with any kind of blowback and him constantly putting himself back out there felt like watching a televised self-flagellation.
again that’s not me blaming him, he was failed by way too many people from a young age that’s put him in a position of losing himself entirely and making him the person he was now as opposed to someone he could’ve grown into in another world. more than anything its a miserable situation because of how much lost potential (?) there is, he could’ve had a life away from the spotlight, sober and finding new purpose and a sense of self-worth not dependent on industry success, he could’ve made an effort to make amends sincerely, rehabilitate in a lot of ways. too many missed opportunities for himself, his loved ones, the people he’s hurt.
addiction is such an ugly, ugly disease. one that you can get help for or even acutely recognize in yourself and talk openly about while still just. becoming worse or relapsing time and time again even though your heart is screaming otherwise. it's a horrible sickness that your demons and ghosts latch onto and its so difficult to pry them off.
its just such a sad situation. so much failed him. even himself. and its devastating he couldn't be here to grow and get healthy and fulfill his purpose. it's just awful.
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
woke up at 4am feeling the weight of my life crushing me, so I’ve been sitting out in my car for the last couple of hours because I just need. to. be. somewhere else.
#tumblr ate something like this but I think I deserve to shout uselessly into the void#shits rough dawg#I know it’s rough for everyone. I feel shitty even talking about myself. still… compelled to vent… big butts#haven’t really been on here much since it hasn’t really scratched that itch lately & just makes me feel lonelier#it’s cold#saw the Jazzercise studio open across the street. 5am for Jazzercise? wow. early.#and then everyone left an hour and a half later. lights out. everybody gone. weird schedule. I am perplexed.#went down the road and got a soda and I’ve been sitting in my driveway contemplating for the last 2.5 hours#guy at the gas station tried to talk to me but I just half assed a smile and nod and left#even though I know I’d love to just… talk to someone. I suppose it has to be ‘on my terms’ whatever those are#I miss having a therapist. or even just when my little brothers would talk to me. when anyone would. blegh#my insurance is still a mess and I’m about to run out of one of my blood pressure meds this week#maybe I’ll have a stroke. scary to think about. I think about dying a lot but that potential feels too real. just… pop! and I’m done.#I’ll try today to finally push to straighten it out but everything feels daunting#woke up with so much anxiety. about my health. my hearing. no money. my life. had to get out of the house even if it’s just right outside#hate to say it but I need(want) thc. haven’t wanted to spend money on it but I could have really used it this morning#can’t be sad if you can’t feel anything (jokingly but also not. whichever is less sad sounding)#actually treated myself to Dune 2 last week and it was so so good. wish I could go again. but it’s drugs food or movie right now. so…#I know. dumb priority but BIG SCREEN. maybe it’ll hit theaters again for the next awards season hopefully. just a real nice loud experience#anyway… I should go inside. almost 7am. need to take my brothers to school then drive my mom to her daily appointments#I’ve felt so hollow and angry and sad for so long it feels like. I feels so weak and sad and I’m tired of it. I’m so tired.#I’ve been eating about 1 meal a day and sleeping a lot. this is the worst my body has ever been. I feel like I’m just waiting to die.#is this relatable?#just have to look past it. it is nothing. this body is nothing. just enjoy your soda.#gonna look at pictures of butts now#ok gotta go I love you goodbye forever#you can ignore this#text
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
they call me the griever because halfway through a thing I enjoy I’m already sad that it’s closer to being over
#blue chatter#trying to work on not doing this#and just enjoying the thing in the moment#this happens to me a lot with school breaks and such#like ‘oh I love being on spring break but I’m sad bc I’m already 3 days in’#‘oh I love summer vacation so far it’s too bad it’s already a month over’#and I’m like NO!!!!! blue!!!!!!!! you’re missing the point!!!!!!!!#you have the joy *right now* and you are SPOILING IT bc you’re too busy looking ahead to when it will be gone!!!!!!!!!#it happens with friend visits a lot. it’s less bad now but it still happens.#like. the first time I visited friends over spring break I woke up in the early morning of the last morning and just cried#because I only had a few hours left before I had to get on the plane home#and I start hurriedly stuffing seconds and minutes into my mouth and refusing to swallow#because maybe if I just cling extra hard then the time won’t pass-#but it does pass. and that’s okay. and I know that’s okay because life had more joyful things after that moment#had I stayed there on that day I would have been frozen as a much more miserable person#my friends themselves would have been very different people#I mean. fuck. between then and now two of us figured out our genders. both of them got married. they moved somewhere else now.#there’s a lot of little joys that got left behind there. a church they loved. a local park. mountains and windy streets.#but I wouldn’t hold ourselves there. which I try to remind myself when I start crying about lost time again#because yeah. this will end someday. human lifespans aren’t infinite.#but the future is full of life I still have to live. there’s no saying that I can’t have good things again.#and this period of my life is rapidly rushing towards a much more uncertain future and I know that and it’s scary#I know I have about 11 months to make several very adult decisions that will determine a lot of my future#but no matter what I choose this period of my life is not wasted#and I don’t need to hurriedly optimize every second and mourn losing them#and I know that. and I still feel sad and mourny. but that might be more indicative that I’m hungry or smth.
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
.
#i woke up the other morning and on my way to work it popped in my head to break up with my partner#i love them and they're so fucking sweet and good to me and we've hardly had any issues. never had a fight and we've been together 5 months#we work really good together and i really enjoy spending time with them#but that morning on the way to work it wasn't like it was a question that popped into my head or 'should i break up with them' it was more#just an objective fact 'it's time to end things. it's over' and it's like something shifted. a switch flipped or something and i can't go#i can't go back. i still love them but i can't enjoy it anymore#i went over to their place night and went to dinner with them and their friends and hung out watching tv#like we have so many other nights#but it felt completely different. it felt wrong. i didn't belong anymore#it all just made me sad#i went hoping that spending time with them would bring it back. would make things normal again#but i just can't get it back. whatever the fuck 'it' is#but they're still so happy and in love and they were being so fucking sweet today trying to comfort me because they knew something was off#and it breaks my heart knowing that i'm about to hurt them#because i don't want to leave them but i feel like i'm being deceitful and fake because#i love them but i can no longer love them how they want me to. how i want to#but god i really really don't want to hurt them#i think i'm having or about to have a panic attack because of how stressed i am at the idea of hurting them#especially because it's already a tough time of year for them and work has been stressful nd i dont want to add to it but i cant lie to them#i can't really think about how much i don't want to do this or how much i'm going to miss them because i'm at work and i can't cry in front#of customers but fuck fuck it hurts#it hurts me just thinking about how much hurt i'm going to put them through#how much i already am because i know i'm acting different#but i'm pretty sure they think i'm just going through a depressive episode or something#bc they haven't fucking done anything! how can i break up with someone who hasn't even done a god damn thing???#and i never really could see a distant future with them but it was so nice being with them#but it was so fucking nice to have somebody be as into me as i was them and to feel so reciprocated and on the same page as someone#why did that all of a sudden change. just completely out of the blue. completely unprompted#i don't know what to do.. and i'm out of tags. that's never happened before#madi says shit
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
alastor request HAI can it be based on the fact that alastor doesn't sleep, and it's his lover finding out that petting his ears during cuddling makes him fall asleep.
thank you for your service
yess i love sleepy alastor thank u so much anon :D!!
Goodmorning, Love
Alastor x Reader (fluff) TW: none! join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══
You were well aware of the Radio Demon’s sleep habits. Or, well, lack of sleep habits. You often spent nights in his room, where he would sit with you in bed until you fell asleep and go do whatever the hell he gets up to late at night. You always woke up in an empty room, and often so in the middle of the night, struggling to rest again as a greedy tightness gripped your chest in worry and disappointment.
You understood, though, and tried your best not to let it get to you that you didn’t have his warm body next to you when you woke every morning. But you couldn’t help that twinge of sadness. You weren’t particularly needy or clingy, but would it kill him to stay in bed with you for a single night? And to have a slice of domestic bliss as you woke up?
Obviously.
You roll your eyes as you lay, staring up at the ceiling. You had just gotten ready for bed, and now waited for said demon to join you for a few hours. Your fingers tapped, impatient, against your chest as you hummed absentmindedly.
“How lovely,” You heard him speak. Tickles of that radio static that always followed him clung to your exposed skin, which was signal enough that he had entered the room had he not announced himself. “What a siren you are, luring me here with that hum of yours.”
You smiled slightly at his comment, scooching over slightly to encourage him over. He obliged, joining you under the covers. He still wore his usual outfit, which made sense considering his tendency to go away all night. You purse your lips at the thought, slightly chewing on the skin.
“Why the face?” Of course he noticed your expression. He always noticed when any emotion tickled your face. You appreciated the genuine tone in his voice, the typical buzz of radio barely detectable in his words. He always got a little softer and kinder when he was alone with you like this.
You appreciated nights with him, being able to see a side of him that nobody else would live to spread word of. You enjoyed feeling a little special, especially to somebody like him.
“Do you think you could stay in,” You asked cautiously, fiddling with your hands as you inched closer to him, pressing your body against his. Even laying, he still seemed much taller than you. You gingerly guided his head down, against your chest as you spoke, hoping the multitasking would keep him from sitting up and rejecting your intimate gestures. “Just for a night. I miss you all night long.”
He allowed his head to lay against you. He did feel tense, of course, letting the back of his head be exposed in this manner as he lay vulnerable on you. It was a strange feeling, but not one he cared to consider for too long.
“(Y/N),” He began with a sigh. “It’s impossible for me to get much done during the day, what with all the running around Charlie does. Somebody has to keep an eye on that young princess. I prefer to stay awake to get my own errands done at night.”
I know that, you wanted to say and interrupt his explanatory ramble. You wanted to beg him to understand, just this once. You held in a sigh, watching as his head gently rose and fell with every breath you took. Maybe you should just take this submission from him as good enough.
You gingerly began tangling your fingers through his red hair, brushing out any kinks he may have gotten throughout the day. His tense body seemed to ease slightly, becoming more and more relaxed as you weaved your fingers through the locks.
“You have really soft hair, Al,” You commented, changing the subject. You figured there was no use convincing him. You let your fingers lightly trail upwards, up to his ears. You grazed them slightly with a finger. You touched again. When he made no motion of dislike, you fully began rubbing them. Petting him. You smiled to yourself at the idea of petting the feared Radio Demon. “And your ears are even softer.”
“I try to take care of myself,” He responded proudly. There was another hint of something in his voice, but you couldn’t quite place what it was. But it seemed heavy. “A well groomed man is a successful one.” You absentmindedly agreed as you stroked the velvety fur of his ears, switching back and forth between them and his hair. You had a preference for the ears, though.
You sighed and began humming quietly again. He rarely got so… comfortable, even around you. He always had some sort of guard up, always had his shoulders squared. He almost never became so… loose and vulnerable.
You noticed the clippings of radio frequency had stopped, which was a noise that was ever present in his wake. You had a suspicion why it disappeared, a small grin forming on your face.
Yes, the Radio Demon never slept. But that was a choice he made, not a curse that prevented him. Even demons get tired. You don’t know how Alastor makes it day by day without a wink of rest, but it was apparent that exhaustion had built up in him. He just needed to relax for a second.
You graced your fingers over his fringe, and craned your neck in a way to get a glance at his face. Yeah, you were right.
He laid there, eyes shut, features relaxed with the lightest grin playing on his face. Even in sleep, you complained. It didn’t really matter. What mattered was the sound of his deep, slow breathing and occasional twitch of his velvety ears. You briefly wondered what the Radio Demon would dream about.
Would he be aggravated with you when he woke up, realizing you had practically cast a sleep spell on him? You didn’t, but the rate of which exhaustion took over may as well have been some sort of magic.
You shut your own heavy eyes, exhaling lightly as you continued to comfort yourself with the texture of his fur and hair. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.
You craned your arms and neck as consciousness came back to you, but an unfamiliar weight kept you from getting that good stretch in. Momentarily confused, you blinked open and looked down.
Red and black hair, more of a mess than usual, still took place on your torso. This was a first, and your chest felt like exploding with the glee of seeing Alastor still resting with you. He somehow looked even more relaxed than the night before, his cheek flush against your stomach, squishing his lips up slightly. A light grin was still there.
You gently brushed your fingers over his face, trailing a line around his features with an index finger. His eyes squeezed for a moment, and that static ambience of his slowly, quietly, returned. It was a noise that you had learned to find comfort in. He slowly opened his red eyes, a confused and sleepy daze clouding them. There was a wrinkle in his brow as he roughly propped himself up with an elbow, looking up at you with a furrowed expression.
“(Y/N)..?” He trailed, pausing to take in a shuddering morning yawn through a confused smirk. “Did I… Dear, what time is it?”
You looked at him tenderly. Oh, how cute he was, sleepy like this. Composed like an exhausted kid. Something even you have never seen before.
“Yeah,” You responded to his unspoken question. “It’s probably seven a.m. or so. I dunno.” There wasn’t a clock in your immediate line of sight.” “A.m. …” He said slowly. He sat up fully, looking down in disappointment at his wrinkled day wear. He quickly blinked the sleep from his eyes and managed to bring some composure to himself, but that lick of exhaustion was still prominent. Especially under his eyes.
“Yeah,” You said again, a light chuckle following. “Goodmorning, Al.”
He wasn’t obviously upset, it seemed. Though he probably was too tired to think about it too much yet. Maybe later.
“Well… Goodmorning, love.” He responded, still with a hint of confusion in his voice. “I suppose I accepted your plea from last night.” He brushed at his clothes while he spoke, trying to flatten out the creases that were brought on through a night of rest.
“Maybe more often?” You asked, twiddling your thumbs in anticipation. You already knew the answer, but it was okay. You knew how to keep him in now. You mischievously smirked as he closed his eyes and shook his head.
“Unlikely.”
#alastor#alastor x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#ohdeerfully#alastor is eepy#fluff
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt: Your apartment floods. Inspired by and for @liliumbosniacum
"I need to take leave."
Simon's phone is pressed against his face, one hand holding the device, the other with a canvas bag in his hand, it's contents overflowing: blankets, baby clothes, your pillow.
"Everything alright?" Price sounds suspicious, but more curious than anything, and Simon sighs.
"Neighbor's flat flooded. She's got nowhere else to go so I'm letting 'em stay with me for a while." Price, thank fucking god, doesn't push it any further, disconnecting with a rumble about checking in with him next week, wishing him a happy holiday, and a parting good luck.
When he hangs up, you're standing hesitantly in his doorway, pile of clothes in your arms.
"That the last of it?" He asks, and you nod.
"Are y-you sure this is okay?" You're still upset, shaken, and he doesn't blame you. You were terrified when you woke up to bone chilling, ankle deep water, frantically shouting about a burst pipe into the phone over Emmaline's shrieks.
"It's okay, sweetheart. I've got plenty of room." He does. His flat is larger than yours, and though they're both two bedroom floor plans, his bedrooms are bigger, and he has two bathrooms, compared to your one. "I got the crib reassembled in the guest room." He motions to the door that's half opened, a few bags of Emmaline's stuff collected on the floor.
"Thank you." you murmur, and then step forward, burying your face in his chest. He holds you there, rubbing your back, working his thumb into the knot that sits at the base of your neck. “At least we saved the tree,” you laugh, wet and sad, and he hums, bowing to press his lips to your forehead.
“I’m sorry love.”
“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Nothing I could control.” You’ve got a point there, and he appreciates the approach, marvels at your ability to not be angry or frustrated with your neighbor, even though it wasn’t really their fault as well. He’s irritated for both of you, anxious over visualizing what would have happened if the chunk of the ceiling that fell was misplaced and landed on you, or Emma.
You pull away, face twisted up into something that looks painful, tears on your lash line, and he frowns. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, sweetheart, c’mon. It’s alright.”
“I know.” You cry, clamping your hand over the bridge of your nose and trying to turn away. “It’s just all her gifts we-were in my room and now they’re ruined, and-“
“Okay, so we’ll get more. We still have plenty of time.” He reassures, rubbing his palms up and down your arms until you come back to him, letting him fold you back into his embrace. “We’ll fix it. Don’t worry.”
“We will?” You sniffle, and he nods.
“I’m on leave, until after the holiday, so I’ll be around, we can go shopping and replace everything. It’s going to be alright. I promise.” That word slips out of him again, promise. I promise, just like he told you this morning when you were frantic and he said it was okay that you stayed with him, I promise, just like he assured last night when you apologized for Emmaline crying for most the evening. “Okay?” His chin rests on the top of your head, and he turns to kiss you, the touch as soft as he can manage. You hum, and then sigh into him.
“Okay Simon.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No.” His refusal is immediate, and you look at him in near exasperation.
“Simon I can’t kick you out of your bed! You’re too big for the couch, anyway, and I don’t mind, I’ve slept on a couch plenty. Plus I’ll be able to hear better, when Emmaline wakes-“
“Sweetheart.” You’re in the living room, bouncing Emmaline in your arms, walking back and forth in front of the fireplace. She’s wearing a red and white striped onesie, like a candy cane, and Simon chuckles when she makes grabby hands at him as he approaches. You sigh, and he tucks his hands under her, lifting her away and into his arms, pleased at how you instantly relax and stretch your back and shoulders in response. “Think you’re getting too big for mama, baby girl.” You roll your eyes, playfully knocking your elbow into his side, and he grunts. “You’re not kicking me out of my own bed.”
“No?” You turn with a hand on your hip, other one holding a half full bottle.
“No, well. I mean-“ he falters, suddenly losing his confidence. “I’m happy to let you have it, or…” He can’t get the words right, can’t communicate what it is he wants to tell you, too worried about scaring you off or being too forward, pushing you too far.
“Or?” You look so pretty, standing in his flat, your belongings, Emma’s, strewn about, just your presence alone making this place feel more like a home than it ever has before. He feels dizzy, overflowing with emotion when Emma lays her head down on his chest, and you smile at her, looking back up at him, delicate, sweet smile on your lips. He bends, tilting your face upwards to meet his, lips ghosting against one another as Emma coos from his arms.
“Or… we can share it.”
#me slowly pressing my dolls together like#peaches writes#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#light on
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
❝ my little love, j. burrow. ❞ ┉
⁎⠀┉⠀summary: the afc championship game is around the corner. thankfully amara burrow is more than happy to make sure her daddy is ready to bring it home.
⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: a little game dey fic based on an anon request for good luck. might make this a series possibly bc i'm in love with this concept <333 ty anon for requesting!!
⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: mostly fluff and an adorable toddler. joe's a little out of character but pls let me be a little delusional.
⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x wife!reader.
⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 4.5k.
The morning light painted the room a soft shade of gold as your eyes slowly opened to the sound of Joe's quiet footsteps. His honey-blonde hair was still damp from the shower, and you felt a pang of loss as his body heat retreated from your shared space. You watched him from the bed, his strong arms moving with the ease of routine as he pulled on his clothes. His Bengals hoodie hung from the chair, a silent reminder of the day ahead.
"You're leaving already?" you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.
Joe looked up from tying his shoes, a warm smile playing on his lips. "Got to get to the stadium, babe." He walked over to the bed, planted a kiss on your forehead, and whispered, "Early morning practice before the game tonight."
You sat up, your heart racing as you realized the significance of the day. "It's AFC Championship day," you murmured softly, your lips pulling into a lazy smile. "Amara's going to be so disappointed she slept through your send-off."
Joe chuckled and leaned over to kiss you again, this time his lips lingered on yours. "It's okay. She'll probably be asleep for another few hours." He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "But I'd better get going." He turned to leave, but your hand shot out, grabbing his arm.
"Can I make you some breakfast?" you offered, pushing yourself up on your elbows. "Just something quick?"
He looked at you with affectionate amusement. "Nah, I've got it covered. You just rest up. Enjoy your day off, baby." With that, he stood up to his full height.
His blonde head turning to look at the door as it cracked open. Amara's curly hair appeared first, then her sleepy eyes peeked through the gap. She looked around the room, her gaze finally landing on her dad. "Daddy," she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Joe's smile grew wider as he crouched down to scoop her up in his arms. "Hey, baby girl," he greeted. Amara giggled, her cheeks pink with the excitement of being woken by a surprise. She snuggled into his embrace, her small arms wrapping around his neck.
"Why are you leaving?" Amara asked sleepily, her voice muffled against Joe's chest.
"I've got a big game today remember, pumpkin?" Joe replied, his voice gentle. "But I'll be back after practice to get ready for the game with you and Mommy, okay?"
Amara nodded, her eyes half-closed as she drifted back to sleep in her father's arms. You watched them with a mix of love and amusement. "Looks like she's not going anywhere," you said with a chuckle. "Let's get her back to bed before she decides she wants to come to practice too."
Joe carefully laid Amara back on the bed, her curly hair fanning out around her on the pillow. He kissed her forehead before standing up. "Alright, I'll be back soon. You stay here with Mommy," he whispered.
You watched him go, feeling a mix of pride and a hint of sadness as he disappeared from the doorway. You knew this was his moment, and you were determined to make sure everything was perfect for him. After a few minutes of cuddling Amara back to sleep, you slipped back into your own slumber. The warmth of your daughter's body and the quiet whispers of the morning lulling you into a peaceful doze.
When you woke up, the sun had climbed higher in the sky, casting bright beams through the windows. Amara was playing quietly with the edge of the bedspread, her eyes glued to the side of your sleeping face. You kissed her forehead, "Good morning, sunshine," you murmured. "Daddy has his big game tonight, remember?"
Amara's eyes lit up, and she nodded vigorously. "I'm going to help him win," she announced.
You chuckled, "Well, you've got to get ready for the game too, baby girl. Let's go brush your teeth and get dressed." You picked up your daughter, who was now fully awake, and carried her to the bathroom. The smell of minty toothpaste filled the air as you bent over the sink, supporting Amara's little frame as she brushed her teeth herself. Afterward, you made your way back downstairs to find a surprise waiting for you: two plates of steaming pancakes with a side of cut and washed strawberries and a sticky note that read, "For my two favorite girls."
"Look what Daddy made us," you exclaimed, pointing to the breakfast spread.
Amara's eyes grew wide with excitement. "Can I have syrup?" she asked, her voice tinged with hope.
"Of course, you can, honey," you said, pouring a little pool of syrup onto your daughter's plate. "But not too much, okay?"
You sat down at the kitchen table, the pancakes steaming up the windows. You took a bite of yours, savoring the sweetness that Joe had managed to capture perfectly despite his rush. You could almost taste the love he'd put into it. As you ate, Amara chattered away, her excitement for the game contagious.
Once breakfast was done, it was time to get ready. You washed and detangled Amara's curls, applying a generous amount of coconut-scented conditioner. The scent filled the bathroom, mixing with the humidity from the hot water. Most days it was a struggle to get Amara to sit still for hair brushing, but today she was surprisingly patient as you worked through her curls. The TV played the pregame show in the background, with the sounds of commentators and cheers from distant crowds setting the atmosphere.
"Mommy, can I wear my special shirt today?" Amara asked, her eyes shining with excitement.
"Of course," you responded, referring to her tiny, custom-made rhinestone jersey that read 'Daddy's MVP' in glittering letters. It was a miniature version of Joe's home game attire, and Amara absolutely adored it. He had it made for her third birthday months in advance, and it had been a staple of her wardrobe during the football season.
The two of you sat in comfortable silence as you continued working through the curls, your fingers moving with practiced ease. You couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you. Despite the excitement of the day ahead, there was something so grounding about these quiet moments with your daughter.
As you worked, the jiggle of the doorbell echoed through the house. "Who's that?" You gasped dramatically, knowing full well that your husband had returned from practice.
"It's Daddy!" Amara shouted, jumping off the chair and sprinting towards the door.
You couldn't help but laugh as you followed her daughter, calling after her, "You know you can't just run off like that, young lady!" But the sound of Joe's laughter as he walked through the front door told you he didn't mind. When the two of you entered the living room, Joe was there, freshly showered and dressed in a casual outfit. His eyes lit up at the sight of you, and he scooped Amara up, twirling her around until she squealed with delight.
"Are you getting ready for the game?" Joe asked Amara as he set her back down, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Yes!" Amara exclaimed, bouncing in his arms. "Mommy's doing my hair right now." She pointed to the chair you decided to carry with you downstairs. You had learned the hard way that once her father was home, it would be hard to get Amara away from him.
Joe's eyes met yours, and you could see the warmth and love in them. "You're doing a great job," he said, planting a kiss on Amara's forehead. "Why don't you finish up with Mommy and then you can help me get ready?"
You nodded, "Let's get those curls looking perfect for the game." You sat back down with Amara on your lap, continuing the meticulous task of styling her hair. The sound of the TV grew louder as the commentators discussed the upcoming matchup. The excitement was palpable, and even you felt a thrill of anticipation.
While you worked your magic with Amara's hair, Joe took a seat on the couch, his eyes glued to the screen. His gaze would occasionally drift to the two of you, a soft smile playing on his lips. Despite the nerves that were surely bubbling beneath the surface, he looked relaxed and at peace. You knew that seeing his family happy brought him comfort, a nonverbal pep talk before the battle ahead.
As you patted her head to signal she was done, Amara looked up at you with wide eyes. "Done?" She asked, her voice filled with excitement. You nodded, and Joe hit the pause button on the TV. "So, Coach," Joe began, gaining Amara's attention as she skipped over to him. "You gonna help me watch film?"
Amara nodded excitedly, her head bobbing up and down as if she were at an interview. You watched them with a warm smile, the love in Joe's eyes for their daughter was something you never got tired of seeing. As Joe carried Amara upstairs to his office, you took a moment to appreciate the quiet house. You knew that once your in-laws arrived, the calmness would be replaced with the buzz of pregame energy.
Your phone vibrated with a text from Robin, Joe's mom. "Be there in 20!" it read.
You hurried upstairs to finish your own makeup and hair. You had decided to go with a sleek bun, throwing on your 'Burrow' jersey and slipping on a pair of leggings just until Joe's parents arrived. As you applied a coat of mascara, you heard the doorbell ring.
Rushing downstairs, you threw open the door to find Robin and Jimmy standing there with arms full of Amara's favorite snacks and juice boxes. "We come bearing gifts," Jimmy said with a wink.
"Thanks," you said, taking the boxes from them and setting it on the kitchen counter. "Amara's upstairs with Joe, watching some last-minute game film."
Robin and Jimmy exchanged surprised glances. "On game day?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow. "That's new."
"Amara's the only one who can get him to break his routine," you said with a chuckle. "I'm married to the man and I'm not even allowed in there on game days. Forget the day of the AFC Championship."
Robin laughed as she set down her bag and looked around for somewhere to sit. "Well, she's definitely her daddy's little girl."
"You have no idea," you said, rolling your eyes playfully. "But it's cute. And honestly, it keeps her out of my hair so I can get ready in peace."
You all shared a laugh, the tension of the impending game momentarily forgotten in the warmth of your family dynamic. Jimmy leaned against the kitchen counter, his eyes gleaming with pride. "It's good to see him loosen up a bit. The game's going to be intense enough."
You nodded in agreement, your eyes flickering to the stairs where you could hear Joe's low voice explaining plays to Amara. "You guys grab whatever you want," you offered, gesturing to the fridge. "I'm just going to go get dressed properly."
In the bedroom, you were surprised by the sight of your daughter, now dressed in her rhinestone jersey and sitting cross-legged on your bed. She had her dad's playbook open in front of her, her little hands tracing over the diagrams with a serious expression.
"Where's your player, Coach?" You asked with a smile, stepping into the room.
Amara looked up at you with a grin that was all Joe. "He's getting ready," she replied, her eyes bright with excitement. You couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at your daughter's enthusiasm. You quickly changed into your own game day outfit, swapping your leggings for straight-leg jeans and low top Jordans that matched Joe’s cleats.
As you finished up your makeup, Joe emerged dressed to perfection in his game day outfit. He picked up Amara, who squealed with delight as she was swept into his arms. "What do you think, Coach?"
Amara studied him intently, her eyes roving over his outfit and the matching shoes. "You look like a winner, Daddy," she declared with the confidence of someone who had never seen him lose.
Joe chuckled, his eyes shining. "Thanks, Coach." He leaned over and kissed you. "You too, beautiful."
Your cheeks heated up with a mix of love and excitement. You had picked out the perfect outfit to match your daughter's jersey. The three of you made quite the trio: Joe in his tailored outfit, you in your jersey, and Amara in her mini-me version of Joe's game day look.
You made your way to the stadium, the energy in the air electric. Fans in black and orange jerseys lined the streets, their chants echoing off the buildings. The anticipation grew stronger as you approached Paycor Stadium, the towering structure a beacon of hope for a victory that would take the Bengals to the Super Bowl.
As you walked through the tunnel leading to the sidelines, you felt your heart pounding in your chest. This wasn't just any game; this was the AFC Championship. You held Amara's hand tightly, her eyes scanning the field as Joe went to join his team. The players warmed up, their movements an anxious show of power, each one focused on the task at hand.
Amara's grip grew tighter as she finally spotted her uncles, Joe's teammates, and friends, Ja'Marr and Tee. "Look, Mommy, there's Uncle Tee and Uncle Ja'Marr!" she squealed, pointing. You laughed and nodded, your eyes finding the two men who looked over and waved. They broke away from their warm-up routine to come say hello, their smiles wide as they approached the little girl in the sparkling 'Daddy' jersey.
"Look who we have here," Tee said, bending down to give Amara a high five. "Little Miss MVP herself."
Ja'Marr chuckled, ruffling her curls. "You ready to help us win today, Coach?"
"Yes!" Amara exclaimed, her eyes shining with excitement.
"That's what I like to hear, Coach," Joe said, coming up behind his teammates, his eyes crinkling with pride as he looked at Amara. "You two keep the good vibes coming, okay?" He kissed you and Amara on the cheek.
"You got any tips for us, Coach?" Tee asked, playfully bumping fists with Amara.
Amara nodded solemnly. "You gotta catch the ball, Uncle Tee," she said, her arms resting on her hips. The spitting image of her father's mannerisms.
"Just me?" Tee feigned shock, his smile growing wider. "What about Ja'Marr?"
Amara giggled, her eyes shifting to the other player. "You too, Uncle Ja'Marr. You gotta run really fast!"
The two men laughed, their ease a testament to their years playing together. "We'll keep that in mind," Joe said, hoisting Amara up and spinning her around. She squealed with delight, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest, watching the love between your husband and daughter.
After a few more minutes of conversation with the teammates, Joe set Amara down and kissed her cheek. "I got to go, pumpkin. But I'll see you after the game, okay?"
"Good luck, Daddy!" Amara shouted as Joe jogged back to the field, her voice carrying over the noise of the growing crowd.
You took a deep breath, your eyes following your husband until he disappeared into the sea of players. Then you turned your attention to your daughter, who was now bouncing up and down with excitement. "Come on, let's get to our seats so we can watch Daddy play," you said, taking Amara's hand and leading her through the bustling corridors of the stadium.
The two of you made your way to the luxury suite reserved for the families of the Bengals' players. The walls were adorned with photos of past games and memorabilia, differing from the chaotic energy outside. The suite was filled with other families, their laughter and excitement creating an infectious buzz.
You and Amara found your seats, the plush couches offering a cozy spot to join Joe's parents. The view was breathtaking, the field stretching out before you like a green canvas waiting for history to be painted upon it. As you settled in, your phone buzzed with a text from your sister, asking if you had arrived and if you had seen Joe yet. You replied with a photo of Amara in her jersey, her cheeks rosy from the excitement, and a thumbs up.
The game kicked off, and the roar of the crowd filled the stadium. The players on the field were mere dots of color moving swiftly, their movements precise and powerful. Each play was met with cheers or gasps from the spectators, and even Amara, with her limited understanding of the sport, knew to clap when the crowd did. You held your breath every time Joe took the field, your heart racing in sync with the clock. The tension in the suite grew with every pass thrown, every tackle made.
Throughout the game, Amara remained glued to your side, her eyes rarely leaving the screens broadcasting the action. She munched on her snacks, sipped her juice, and whispered questions about the game that you did your best to answer. Despite the excitement, you noticed her daughter's eyelids growing heavy. The excitement of the day was taking its toll, and the warmth of the suite only added to her sleepiness.
As the fourth quarter approached, the game grew tense. The score was close, and every play could be the deciding factor. You held your breath, your heart in your throat. The other families in the suite mirrored your anxiety, your faces a mix of hope and fear. The air was thick with anticipation, the only sounds the occasional murmur of a prayer or a shout of encouragement for the players on the field.
Amara leaned heavily against you, her eyes drooping. You knew it was only a matter of time before your little girl succumbed to the call of slumber. You cuddled her closer, whispering reassurances that Joe and his team would pull through.
On the field, Joe played with a fiery determination that was palpable even from their lofty perch. Each pass thrown, each yard gained, brought them one step closer to victory. The clock ticked down, each second feeling like an eternity. With less than five minutes left, the Bengals were 2nd and goal, the crowd anxious with anticipation.
Amara's eyes fluttered closed, lulled by the steady rhythm of the game and the warmth of your embrace. You held her tightly, whispering words of encouragement to Joe through the glass, as if he could hear her. You watched as Joe took the final snap, his eyes scanning the field, his body poised and ready. The crowd held their breath as Joe threw a Hail Mary pass, the ball soaring through the air with practiced precision. It was caught by Joe's favorite target, Ja'Marr, in the end zone, sealing the Bengals' win.
The suite erupted in cheers, the sound deafening as confetti rained from the ceiling. Amara stirred in her sleep, mumbling something incoherent. You felt a mix of relief and elation as the scoreboard flashed in victory. They were going to the Super Bowl. The final whistle blew, and the players on the field hugged and high-fived, their faces a blend of exhaustion and triumph.
You made your way down to the area outside of the locker rooms. Amara's head resting on your shoulder, sleeping peacefully. As Joe emerged from the lockers, his eyes searched the suite until they found your eyes. He waved, a grin stretching across his face. You felt a surge of love and pride as you returned the gesture, your voice lost in the mess of the crowd. The other players dispersed to their families, but Joe's gaze remained fixed on you. He made his way over, dodging well-wishers and reporters.
When he reached you, he leaned in to give you a kiss. "We're goin' to the Super Bowl, baby," he whispered, his voice hoarse from shouting on the field.
Your eyes shone with unshed tears. "I'm so proud of you," you murmured, your voice thick with emotion.
Joe's grin grew wider as he turned to Amara, whose eyes had snapped open at the sound of her father's voice. "Did you win, Daddy?" she asked, her sleepiness forgotten.
"We did, baby girl," Joe said, scooping her up in his arms. He held her close, the joy of the moment reflected in both their faces. "Couldn't have done it without your help, Coach."
Amara giggled, her tiny hands clapping together excitedly. "I'm proud of you, Daddy," she said, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Your heart swelled with love as you watched them, feeling the warmth of their bond.
As Joe started to transfer her back to you and walk towards the podium for his post-game press conference, Amara tugged on his arm. "Can I go with you?" she asked, her eyes hopeful.
You looked at Joe, a hint of uncertainty in your gaze. "It's okay," Joe assured you, setting Amara down. "Let's go, Coach." He took his daughter's hand, and she beamed up at him.
The press conference room was a whirlwind of flashing cameras and eager reporters. Joe sat down at the podium, and Amara climbed into his lap. She looked around at the unfamiliar faces with wide eyes, but she remained still and silent, as if she understood the gravity of the situation. You took a spot at the back of the room, your heart beating a little faster than normal. You knew your daughter was a little star, but you didn't want to steal the spotlight from your husband's moment of triumph.
As Joe fielded questions about the game-winning play and his thoughts on heading to the Super Bowl, Amara studied the microphones and notebooks with curiosity. Her tiny hand rested on her father's forearm, her thumb tracing patterns on the fabric of his shirt. The room was still but you could see the way Joe's gaze kept flickering down to your daughter, a silent reassurance passing between them.
When the questions shifted to Joe's family life and how they supported him, he didn't miss a beat. "They're everything," he said, his voice earnest. "My wife, she's my rock. And my little coach here," he leaned down to poke at Amara's tummy, "Keeps me on my toes." The room melted at the sight of the quarterback with his daughter, and a round of 'awes' echoed through the room.
Amara, sensing the shift in attention, straightened up, giggling as she looked around, a hint of shyness creeping into her expression. She was used to her father's games, but this was new, even for her. She leaned into Joe's side, her thumb returning to her favorite spot on his shirt.
You watched from the back, a proud smile on your face. Your heart swelled as Joe spoke about you, your bond, and your life together. It was a rare moment of vulnerability from your husband, who was usually so focused on the game.
One of the reporters leaned in. "And what does it mean to you, having your daughter here today, watching you play?"
Joe's eyes lit up as he looked down at Amara. "It's incredible. She's my biggest fan and my biggest motivation." He ruffled her hair, and she giggled, looking up at him adoringly. "I want her to know that she can do anything she sets her mind to, just like her mom and me."
The room was silent, the cameras capturing the tender moment. You felt a tear slide down your cheek, and you quickly brushed it away, not wanting to distract from Joe's moment. You knew he meant every word, your family's love and support were what kept him going through every game.
As the press conference came to a close, Joe hoisted Amara up in the air, her giggles filling the room. He turned to the reporters, his smile never faltering. "Alright, that's all I got today. I have to get this one back to her mother."
They made their way back through the crowd, Joe's hand on Amara's back, guiding her through the throng of people. You felt a mix of excitement and fatigue, your body still buzzing from the win. The ride home was a blur of congratulatory texts and calls from friends and family. Honks from passing cars and shouts of "Who Dey!" filled the streets as they drove through the city.
At the house, Robin and Jimmy had already set the table with a spread of Joe's favorite post-game meal: a hearty pasta dish and garlic bread, with a bottle of wine chilling in an ice bucket for later. "We figured you'd be too tired to cook," Robin said, giving you a warm smile.
"You guys are the best," you said, looking over at Amara wrapped in Joe's arms. The little girl yawned and leaned her head on his chest, already nodding off to sleep.
"Let's get her to bed," Joe suggested, his own energy waning. "Thank you so much for this, Mom, Dad. It means a lot."
You took Amara from Joe's arms, cradling her sleeping form against her chest. "No problem," Jimmy said, patting his son on the back. "We're gonna head off to bed. But you two enjoy the rest of the night."
You climbed the stairs, whispering sweet nothings to keep Amara calm as Joe trailed along, his arm slung over your shoulder. In her room, you carefully laid your daughter down on the bed, whispering a final goodnight. Amara's eyes remained closed, her breathing deep and even. Joe leaned over to kiss his daughter's forehead.
"You okay?" You asked, looking into his tired eyes as you finally made your way up to your room after eating and clearing the dishes.
Joe nodded, his smile a bit weary. "Just can't believe we're going to the Super Bowl," he murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed. He stood up and took your hand, pulling you closer into his warm chest. "Thank you for being here, for supporting me through everything."
Your arms wrapped around his neck, heart swelling with love. "And I always will, baby," you said, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek. You felt the weight of the day's excitement slowly start to lift from your shoulders. The quiet of your room, the gentle hum of the city outside your windows, it was all you needed to feel at peace.
You changed into comfortable clothes, Joe slipping into a loose t-shirt and sweatpants while you donned your favorite oversized sweatshirt. You cradled Joe's head on your chest, fingers scratching at his scalp as he drifted in and out of sleep. His breathing grew deep and steady, the tension of the day slowly leaving his body.
#&. cassie writes.#joe burrow#joe burrow fan fic#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow fluff#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow fanfic#cincinnati bengals#black!fem!reader#black!oc#black!reader#x black fem reader#x black reader#joeyb#jb9#joe burrow x black!reader#joe burrow x you#joe burrow x y/n#joe burrow x oc
680 notes
·
View notes
Text
Funny Little Girl
Lewis Hamilton x Reader (+ daughter)
Summary: When Lewis' little girl gets sick while he's away, he starts contemplating.
Word count: 2.4k
Tags: female!reader, husband!Lewis, Dad!Lewis, fluff, little bit hurt/comfort, daughter is sick, Lewis is worried, hospital, not beta read
Relationship: Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Note: I wrote this in a spur of the moment at 2 am last night, no beta we die like men. It was genuinely supposed to be a blurb but my brain took over and ran with it. (Once again in my girl dad!Lewis agenda)
Feedback and comments are appreciated xx
Find me on Twitter!
Lewis was restless.
He hadn’t spoken to you since the morning, and usually, by this time you would’ve already texted him a good morning message or even a silly lazy picture.
He knew, obviously with him being away on a race weekend, it was natural that the time difference stood between you, but this time he wasn’t too far from home, just a few hours ahead, so he found it strange that you hadn’t texted him yet. He left a couple messages for you again, but they were only delivered. He tried to call once but it rang and you never picked up.
Then an hour or so later, when he was in the middle of a meeting, he got a call from you, a FaceTime call. Worried, he immediately interrupted the meeting, asking for a ten minute break and scurried off to his room.
He picked up as soon as he closed the door behind himself. On the screen, he could see you, still in your sleeping clothes, and Ivy was on your lap. Lewis stared at his daughter and from one single look he could tell she was not looking well.
“Hi, love. Sorry I didn’t answer your texts earlier…” You said first thing.
“What happened?” Lewis frowned.
“Ivy woke up a little under the weather today. She’s a little feverish.”
He looked at his daughter on the screen again, she wasn’t paying attention to him, her eyes red rimmed like she had been crying, in her hands, tightly held was Brendon the Kraken, her favorite plush toy, and her blankie. She had a beanie on and a pacifier. She was looking at the TV, not minding him or her mom.
“How’s she doing? Are you thinking of taking her to the hospital?” He asked, his heart tightening in his chest.
“Not yet, I think the fever might go down soon. If it doesn’t then I’ll take her to see the doctor,” you explained, rubbing Ivy’s shoulder as she snuggled up to you and Lewis wished he was home with you and Ivy, taking care of his little girl who was just a little under three, “how is everything going? Ready for the race later?”
Lewis bit back a comment of how he just wanted to go home to his wife and to his baby girl. How he wanted to snuggle up with Ivy on the couch with lots of blankets to keep her warm while watching silly cartoons. But instead, he smiled a little and talked about the race for a minute. He knew that if you knew he was sad, you were gonna be sad too, so he just pretended everything was fine and his heart wasn’t broken for being away from his family.
Ivy was a toddler, and he was aware toddlers were a little under the weather all the time and it usually wasn’t that big of a deal. Hell, he had been home a couple of times when his daughter had a little cold before. But every time it happened when he was away, it ripped his heart apart just the same.
“Will you keep me updated on Ivy?” He asked, looking at your sweet face on the screen.
“Of course, and if I take too long to reply, don’t rip your hair off with worry, okay?” You said with a fond smile. You gently nudged Ivy, pulling her pacifier out, “look, baby, say hi to daddy…”
Ivy looked at the screen, and her little lips turned into a pout, her eyes watering.
“Daddy! Want daddy!” She said, starting to cry as she made grabby hands to the screen.
Lewis felt like his heart was being torn open with a jackhammer, the pleading look in Ivy’s eyes, wanting comfort from her daddy and him being a couple of countries away, unable to teleport to her side to hold her.
“Shhh, it’s okay, love, daddy is coming home soon, isn’t he?” You said, trying to comfort your daughter, but she kept crying, fat tears wetting her chubby cheeks.
“I’m going home soon, sweetheart, I promise. Daddy’s gonna be there soon,” he said through the screen, but Ivy only seemed to grow even more agitated, her cries louder. He knew the fact that she was sick was probably playing a part in making her big emotions come out. He tried more comforting words, but both Ivy was agitated and you were trying to comfort as best as you could.
Lewis watched the screen for a few more seconds, swallowing a painful lump in his throat, seeing his daughter’s urgency in having him closer, her big brown eyes wet with tears and the grabby hands towards him as if he could just go home through the screen and pick her up in his arms.
“Sorry, love,” you said, picking up Ivy and she cried against your shoulder, “I’ll hang up to calm her down, okay? I’ll keep you updated.”
“If anything, anything really happens you can call me anytime.” He said, hearing your little whimpering through the screen, “love you two.”
“We love you, Lewis,” you blew him a quick kiss and hung up.
Lewis stared at the black screen for a long time, not really looking, just remembering the look on his little girl’s face as she wanted him close. He swallowed a couple times more, and he decided to text his dad and stepmom to go check on you and Ivy if they had some free time back home.
He went back to his pre-race meeting with a pit in his stomach. He had to make an herculean effort to be present on the race weekend and not let his mind wander back to you and Ivy. He checked a few more texts, and you kept him updated every once in a while. First telling him you got Ivy to eat something, then you sent him a picture of Ivy taking a nap on your chest, and she looked a little better, but you told him she was still a little feverish, but luckily her temperature hadn’t gone up.
Before going to the race, he warned one of the team’s assistants to keep a close eye on his phone, knowing you’d still be sending him updates on your daughter.
He finished the race P4, which wasn’t a bad finishing position but as soon as he was out of the car, he was thinking of Ivy again. When he checked his phone, your last text had been before the race started, a quick selfie wishing him good luck, but after that, there was not a single text from you, and he started worrying all over again.
“If my wife calls or texts, I need you to interrupt anything I’m doing and get the phone to me, okay? No matter what,” he said to the assistant, handing his phone again before going out to the post race interviews.
He was only half-heartedly replying during the interviews, worried that the assistant had not gone to him not even one moment, which could only mean you had not called yet.
Once the interviews were done, he went back to the assistant to check on his phone and he saw three missed calls from you and two from his dad. His stomach instantly dropped.
“I said to get the phone to me if my wife called,” He looked at the assistant who looked like a deer in the headlights.
“I tried, Lewis! The PR lady didn’t even let me through the door. I told her it was your wife and an emergency, but…” The guy defended himself, pointing to the F1 PR coordinator, who looked at Lewis with wide eyes.
“You don’t ever do that again, understood? My family is my priority and you shouldn’t have interfered when he was under explicit orders to find me as soon as my wife called.” Lewis said, he was calm but his voice was firm and left no room for questioning. The woman only nodded, spurting some excuse and apology.
He barely waved her off before finding a secluded little room to check his phone. In the texts, you had warned him that Ivy got worse and you were taking her to the hospital. He immediately called your phone but it went straight to voicemail. He tried a couple more times before trying his dad, who luckily picked up.
“Dad? Where are they?” He said.
“I brought your girls to the hospital, they put Ivy in a room and the doctor is checking her up now. We’re in the waiting room now, so as soon as I have any news, I’ll let you know. Your wife’s phone died, so it’s probably best to talk to me.”
Lewis exhaled, still feeling nervous but a little more comforted that you weren’t alone with Ivy in a moment like this.
“Can you send me the address of the hospital? I’m going straight there. And please, keep me updated.”
After hanging up, Lewis immediately went to find the team to let them know his daughter was sick and he needed to get home as soon as possible, rescheduling the post-race debriefing. He didn’t even get back to the hotel, since he had his suitcase with him at the paddock, he just called his connections and got himself a helicopter back home.
He arrived at the hospital you and Ivy were in a couple of hours later, going straight inside and finding his dad in the waiting room, chatting with a nurse. He hugged his dad, who told him you were inside with Ivy, and the nurse took Lewis and Anthony there.
Lewis entered the room where you were, sitting before the hospital bed, and Ivy was lying on the bed, holding her plushie with one hand and holding her mom’s hand with the other. She looked the same as she had in the FaceTime call that morning.
“Daddy!” Ivy squealed, and Lewis rushed inside, hugging her tightly, careful minding the IV drip in her arm. She smelled the same as always, baby shampoo and home. Lewis inhaled into her curly hair and kissed her cheek.
“Hi, baby… I’m sorry dad took too long to arrive. How is my baby girl doing?” He asked, gently putting her down on the bed, but she grasped his coat as if to stop him from leaving again. He leaned over the bed and pecked your cheek, “Hi, my love…”
You quickly explained to Lewis that that doctor had checked on Ivy and you were waiting for him to bring the results in. Lewis comforted Ivy for a moment, before walking around the bed to hug you. You looked tired, and he imagined you had spent the whole day dealing with a sick, fussy toddler.
“Have you eaten today?” He asked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
“In the morning,” You mutter, closing your eyes for a moment, enjoying the gentle caress of his knuckles on your cheeks.
“Wanna go home to rest and eat while I stay here with Ivy?” He offered, despite already knowing your reply.
“Of course not, I’m not leaving her side,” You said, rolling your eyes and he smiled.
“Dad, will you take my lovely wife to the cafeteria and make sure she eats something?” Lewis said to his dad, who was still chatting with Ivy. He immediately accepted, and Lewis removed his own coat, putting it around you, “We’ll wait here, okay?”
You nodded and left with Anthony just as Lewis turned to Ivy.
“Are you feeling cold, baby?” He asked the little girl, who looked fussy and sleepy, rubbing her eyes as she nodded.
Ivy made grabby hands, whispering for Daddy, and Lewis got into the hospital bed with her, pulling her to lay on his chest as he adjusted the blankets around her. Her skin was still warm to the touch, and he held her close, wrapping both arms around his little girl while she spoke about her day, whining about her day and about being sick. She was always extra clingy when he came back from his trips.
Lewis gently played with her curls while she spoke, muttering his uh-hu, and yeah, and his of course, baby, until she started slurring out the words and slowly falling asleep.
He smiled, despite the worry, he was glad to be there finally, to be with his wife and daughter.
When you came back to the room, Ivy was sleeping against Lewis’ chest just like she used to do as a newborn, Lewis gently rubbing her back and getting drool in his shirt. You handed him a coffee, and he drank without moving a muscle so as to not wake up your little girl.
The doctor came a few minutes later, checking on Ivy and making sure she was fine and the fever was subsiding, he said it was just a little cold and prescribed a couple of meds.
Lewis carried your little girl to the car seat, while you hugged Anthony goodbye and thanked him profusely for keeping you company when you were going to the hospital earlier. After that, you went home driving, Lewis in the passenger seat.
Arriving home, Lewis carried Ivy to her little bed, tucking her in and touching her forehead to make sure the fever was really gone. When he returned to the bedroom, you had taken a quick shower and was dressed in soft, comfortable pajamas.
“How are you, love?” He asked as you walked lazily up to him and he wrapped his arms around your mirror, pulling you into his chest.
“Just a little tired…” You mumbled, and he pecked your lips, walking you back towards the bed.
“Thank you for taking care of her today, love. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for most of it…” He whispered affectionately into your skin.
“It’s okay, you had work… I’m glad you came straight home to us.” You muttered as he placed you in bed, tucking you in.
“I love you,” He tugged your hand and kissed your knuckles.
He let you fall asleep while he took a quick shower too, changing into PJs before going to check on Ivy again. The doctor had assured that the medicine would take her out for the night, but she’d be totally better the following morning.
When he got in bed with you again, pulling you closer, his arm around your middle, his leg between yours and your face pressed into his chest, he finally breathed. He had been tense the whole day from being away from you and Ivy, worry gnawing at him, and guilt for being away in moments like these. Not only tough moments like this, but also the happy ones. He wondered what else he’d miss of Ivy growing up, and he had missed so much already.
That was the first time he truly contemplated retirement.
#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula 1#formula one#f1 fic#f1#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton fanfic#lh44#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton#lh44 x reader#Spotify
642 notes
·
View notes
Text
Love Me, Please
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Pairings: Alastor/Lucifer/Adam/Husk/Angel/Vox/Valentino/Tom Trench/Saint Peter
Type: Scenarios/Comfort
C/TW: Swearing, blood, reader written with fem parts in mind (bc this bout periods, duh)
In which you miss your boyfriend/cling to your boyfriend and are being emotional about it. Basically—period emotions.
This is more for me bc it’s that time of the month and I desperately want some comfort lol | also Angel’s I left up to either be platonic or romantic
Alastor
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He was at yet another unremarkable overlord meeting when he felt something pulling on him. Back at the hotel, you laid on your bed wrapped in a cocoon of sorts, eyes tiredly watching your shadow pulling on one of Alastor’s shadows-which he left to keep an eye on you. Alastor’s grin turned to one of amusement—oh how needy you are when it’s that time of the month for you. The meeting finally came to a close and instead of making his way back to the hotel with a lovely stroll, he disappears in his shadows. Not before bidding a friendly farewell with his dear friend, Rosie. He materializes in the center of your room with a shit eating grin as he twirls his microphone around.
“I was hardly apart from you for more than an hour, my dear.”
Lucifer
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Lucifer had errands he couldn’t postpone today and so he made you promise to text him when you miss him and he’ll make his way right back in a jiffy! The bedroom door only closed behind him when he got a text from you. An ‘I miss you’ along with a sad face emoticon. He burst the door open, tears welling up in his eyes, as he crawled back into bed with you to hold you close. You honestly thought he was more emotional than you at the moment.
“My poor ducky! I’m sowwy!”
Adam
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Adam has been around for ages so I like to think he knows a bit about menstruation. On top of that, he has an army of baddies he likes spending time with-usually training but that's still time spent with them regardless. However he's definitely still rough around the edges since usually with his girls, he uses that to egg them on into being tougher fighters either physically or emotionally. If you're a person who's quick to be a grump or a crying mess then uhhh...just know he doesn't mean to be a dick all the time. He tries though, despite how annoying and tiresome it is. Especially since you make him feel oh so special with how you seem to demand his attention and his attention only. Right now you lay on his chest, looking on at the items set on the coffee table with a glint of amusement.
"Babe-you said pads with wings! I got that! I even made sure the chicken wings came with the good sauce."
Husk
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Husk is very vigilant so he's quickly able to come to the conclusion that you're on your period before even you realize it. It was just after he finished closing up the bar and returned to your room for a late nights rest when he smelt it. He might technically be an old man, but he's a respectful one and has been around for quite some time. He knows that small. Despite knowing you might be embarrassed to find out that he can smell it, he figured you'd be more grateful that he woke you up so you can deal with it before you wake up feeling all gross and annoyed in the morning. Plus it was worth it to almost immediately get a hug from you after being apart for a few extra hours than he liked.
"Come on. Don't wanna ruin your new pajama's now, do you baby doll?
Angel Dust
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ This man was out on a much needed night out with his long time bestie, Cherri Bomb. You of course coming as his plus one that his bestie always welcomed like the supportive girly she is. He couldn't quite enjoy himself as much this time around though as he sat at in a corner booth with you hunched over your drink. You're hand gripping one of his hands as if you're afraid he's gonna leave. Despite how awkward he felt trying to comfort you, he did his best and allowed himself to be as sympathetic as much as he could.
"Toot's-if you wanna leave it's okay! You know I'll stick with ya! No need to make ya headache worse than it already is!"
Vox
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vox still holds certain belief's and mindsets he had from his time in the 1950's. Part of that meaning him being 'grossed out' by your period and beliefs in woman faking or over exaggerating their monthly disturbances. He learned to keep his opinions to himself though, due to previous encounters with Velvette, and found it easier to just well, cater to your needs. They were easy enough for the most part. Food and beverage cravings? He's got ya covered. Cramps and aches? You're in luck because this man is basically one large heating pad. Which quickly became a downside for him because then you wanted him all the time. Didn't matter if he was working or not. He tried to put his foot down once but it only made you emotional so uhhh-
"Honey, I'll only be gone for one hour. As soon as the meeting ends, I'll lay my head on your stomach, okay?"
Valentino
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Valentino can only smirk to himself when he finds out it's now your time of the month. Which isn't hard to figure out since he woke up to you latched onto him like a koala this morning. A puff of red smoke invades your senses as a pair of arms wrap around your shoulders, a third hand coming to play with the top of your head. Valentino, spending years working with woman and people who endure this bloody cycle, knows a few...remedy's. He has his favourite solutions, obviously. Only if you're down. The last time he tried being more...persuasive with his advances to you during these times, it didn't go well-to put it lightly.
"Mi cariño~A good fucking helps with this time of the month, you kno-" ... "Or we could share some snacks. Kitty!"
Tom Trench
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ For this man I pray you are not a bitch on your period. Poor guy already has to deal with his co-star Katie Killjoy everyday. Whatever you deal with on your period though, just know your man is there and keeps your needy ass close. Such as right now, as you sit in an oversized fuzzy hoodie on Tom's couch, watching him and Katie host the latest news live. You glance down at your phone with Tom's messages open. You want to text him but you knew it wouldn't reach him anyways-they had to keep their devices on silent while they hosted. As soon as they were finished with their shift of the day however, Tom rushed to his dressing room to find you staring at the door with open arms.
"The interns told me you were waiting for me."
Saint Peter
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ This man would never admit it out loud, and if he did he would word it very carefully, but he loves it when its your time of the month. I mean he feels bad for you obviously; dealing with an inconvenience once a month even in your afterlife does not sound like any sort of blessing, but he's clingy and affectionate himself. And you clinging to him just as much? Oh it's like he's died and went to Heaven-again! Currently he lays on the couch with you in his arms, you both engulfing each other in a snuggly cuddle. He periodically checks the time-as much as he loves this he's still got a job to do. He voices this but quickly finds himself soothing you.
"I'm only going to work, sweetheart! P-please don't cry!"
This was supposed to be reader missing them but some of them became not exactly that and I’m sorry lol
I’ve had this in my drafts for a month, felt about right to finally post it. I’m also ashamed to admit, it took me way too long trynna figure out what to write for Tom’s dialogue. I love him but if I don’t know him as well as I thought 😭
#hazbin hotel#x reader#vox#hazbin hotel vox x reader#vox x reader#hazbin hotel vox#saint peter#hazbin hotel x reader#st peter#hazbin hotel saint peter#husk#husk x reader#hazbin hotel husk#angel dust#angel dust x reader#hazbin hotel angel dust#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer magne x reader#valentino x reader#hazbin hotel valentino#tom trench x reader#hazbin hotel tome trench#tom trench#adam x reader#hazbin hotel adam
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Nobody Likes A Secret
pairing: no outbreak rich older!joel miller x afab reader.
how to help the palestinians and what it means to write for the last of us characters
word count: 3k words
description: a rich wealthy playboy who becomes enthralled by his neighbor's daughter. it never ends well when he can not fathom having happiness for himself.
warnings: ANGSTY!!!!!, age gap (joel is in his 50s, reader is in her mid 20s), wealthy!joel, neighbor!joel, reader is pretty naive and delusional, taboo relationship troupe, mentions of parent death, VERY BRIEF SMUT, joel is borderline evil and very mean. joel calls reader "kid". joel is also a liar. talks of having children.
author’s note: I wrote this all in like... two nights. I listened to illicit affair by taylor swift and nobody likes a secret by lizzy mcalpine a lil much and it ended up here. sorry if I make you sad.
You creep into the large 4-car garage, seeing Joel pacing the oil-stained floor. He’s still in his work clothes, but he looks a bit disheveled. His eyes are wild, his face downturned into a deep-set frown.
“Joel? Everything okay?”
He shakes his head. “He knows.”
You know only one person who would ruin this.
‘This’ being an 9-month-long affair with your older neighbor. Months and months of meeting in dark corners, hardly ever seeing each other in the light.
“How?”
Joel fumbles trying to pull his phone out of his pocket, showing you the 5 missed calls from your Dad. You stare at it blankly, tightening your jaw at the possibility that your Dad is too smart for his own good. Shit, he does know, doesn’t he? He throws the phone down on a nearby leather couch that is positioned near a workbench. Joel was pretty good with his hands, but lately his mind has been anywhere but tinkering with wood in his garage.
“He came over an hour ago. Sat me down and told me that he was getting suspicious of some outings you’ve had over the last couple months. Said he realized you were not going to the places you said you were going to. So he assumed you had a new boyfriend or something. Then last night…”
You curl your hands into a fist. “Fuck.”
“Yeah. Fuck,” Joel grumbles, running his hands over his face, dragging his lower lids down in frustration, “He said that if I know anything or see anything, I am to let him know immediately. He’s worried you’re fuckin’ around with the wrong guy.”
You had snuck out of your house last night and tiptoed your way into Joel’s car, which was parked in a nearby cul de sac. He promised you a nice late dinner in the city and then he ravished you in a hotel room you two didn’t even spend the night in. He brought you home around 4 am and you snuck back into your bedroom, ensuring nothing in your home was stirred. When you woke up the next morning, your father left you a note that he wanted to do dinner with you that night. Meaning tonight.
You know this is detrimental, and while you do not want to freak out immediately, you can not help but feel like someone is stabbing you directly in the chest. Joel’s body language is giving off negative signals, so even though you want to hug him and tell him that you can talk to your Dad, you know it’s not going to change much.
Your eyes well with tears, thinking of how this was going to ruin everything. After months and months, you thought you were being so smart.
“We can’t do this anymore,” He whispers.
And God damn, did Joel hate seeing you cry.
But the tear-filled eyes you are giving him are warranted. You don’t turn away from him like usual. You never wanted to show him any weakness.
This time you confront him, your nose turning upward and your eyes full of disdain.
“You said we were being careful,” You murmur, the salty tears falling down your cheeks.
“Not careful enough.”
The bitterness tastes like blood in your mouth. You want to scream at him but keep an even tone instead, “Joel… Just let me talk to him.”
“You knew where this was gonna end up,” He states plainly, his voice not wavering.
And maybe he was right, but you enjoyed living in a loved-up delusion. Maybe it was the sex or maybe it was the looks he gave you from across densely populated parties you were forced to go to. You would put on a show long enough to make your father happy and then you would somehow sneak away with Joel. You knew if your father caught you with the much older man, he would lose his mind, so you were always cautious. You made sure the doors were locked. The moans would stay hushed. The car was parked far from your front door. And during the time spent away from the house, you would get a girlfriend to lie for you. You were always so careful.
“Maybe he suspects it’s someone else.” you try to reassure him, but you know it’s falling on deaf ears.
“You know he knows it’s me.”
“We don’t know that for sure.”
Joel rolls his eyes. He knows that your father’s words were simply a warning. If you two continued this schtick, you know better than anyone your father would find out. You knew he already kind of had eyes on you and Joel had caught on to a couple of neighbors watching him from their bedroom windows. He gives your father credit, he was thorough.
“We have to stop.”
You did not realize how much your heart was banking on making this work. Joel was about 25 years older, so deep down, you knew that no one would accept the relationship. But in your wildest fantasies, you imagined you two would run away together. He had tons of money, you had nothing tying you down, and it could be a perfect escape. You had brought it up one night after you snuck over to his bed and he didn’t explicitly say no. He just giggled and continued tracing circles on your bare back.
You bite the inside of your cheek, “So you just… don’t want me anymore?”
He huffs, already annoyed you were making it seem like he had a choice.
“It was never gonna work out in the first place, kid.”
You just stare at him. The nickname hit harder than it ever has. After months of sneaking around with you, Joel only ever saw you as that. A kid.
“Don’t call me that. Ever.”
He notices the rise in your voice and quickly realizes he made a mistake.
“Listen-”
It’s like every terrible emotion you have ever had comes bubbling to the surface. The resentment you held towards him when he ignored your calls some nights. Or when he refused to get near you at any party. You had your grievances, but you sat there like a good girl and just accepted him the way he was.
It’s like acid in your throat, it burns.
“No, you listen,” You snap, “You don’t get to play the kid card. You chose this just as much as I did. You told me that my age didn’t matter. You told me that you would want children with me one day. You filled my head with all this bullshit and now when shit gets real, you walk away. You’re a fuckin’ coward, Joel.”
“My reputation and livelihood is on the line for this! You think I don’t still want those things?”
“If you wanted them bad enough, you would fight for me.”
It makes his face drop. His furrowed eyebrows relax and his mouth droops down into a subtle frown.
You do not know where to go from here. The atmosphere in his garage rises with tension, words just hanging in the air.
The Annual Miller Christmas Party was the talk of the town. Everyone who received an invitation would proudly display the cardstock on their huge fridges and show their uninvited neighbors to brag. When Joel came over to hand deliver you and your father’s invitations, he told you to wear something sparkly.
You searched everywhere for the perfect gown for weeks. He had only really shown you attention when forced to be in the same room as you, so you needed to be eye-catching. He was never the guy to wave to you when he was leaving for work or say a quiet hello at the grocery store. Joel was a very regimented man. He never strayed away from his routine which was usually work, hookups with random women, and sleep. He never kept a woman around for too long. You noticed the circulation of women changed every month or so. Joel never wanted to settle down. He had tried that once 15 years ago and his ex ended up with half of his company.
But you always loved the way the man carried him. Despite his playboy behavior, you were entranced with him. You always thought he was handsome and when you came home at 25 to help your mother who had fallen sick, you knew that your crush had morphed into borderline obsession. Living next to him would be dangerous.
The dress you chose was red, which was fitting for the occasion. And of course, it was sparkly. Just what Joel ordered.
You spent all day preparing for the evening and when you showed up on his front door on your Father’s arm, he could not peel his eyes away. You were so radiant and perfect. The twinkle in your eyes shone brighter than the glitter on your gown.
During the night, you drank a couple of glasses of champagne and chatted up some of your Father’s colleagues. You notice Joel’s eyes following you every so often. You can vividly remember thinking, “This man wants me so bad.”
That night Joel cornered you in the hallway by the bathroom. He asked you if you were interested in literature, but really he just wanted you alone in his study. You being you, you enthusiastically said yes and followed him down the unlit corridor. Once he shut the huge wooden double doors, you knew that you would be slipping out of that gown for him in no time.
And that’s exactly what happened.
He drove you crazy, peppering kisses all down your body. He would groan every time he heard your shaky breath, knowing that the effect he had on you would become a dependence for him.
When he first pressed into you, it was different than any other woman he’s ever been with. You did not throw your head back, moaning obscenities. Instead, you stared into his eyes and nodded, encouraging him to continue his movements. It was so sensual and passionate, by the time you two finished, he held you in his arms for 20 minutes. He was never one for pillow talk or aftercare, so he surprised himself.
You were different than any other woman he had ever encountered.
You had slipped over to his front door a couple of days after the Christmas party, knocking to ask his assistant if he was home. When she brought you into his office, he told his assistant to shut the door on the way out. His eyes never left yours as you bantered to him. He loved your confidence. He bent you over his desk after 10 minutes, tugging up your skirt and swatting your ass for showing up on his doorstep looking “this beautiful”.
Joel always made you feel so good. His dirty talk went to Harvard. He could make you cum over and over with his husky Southern accent. Every time he called you “darlin’” or “princess”, you would come undone.
A couple of months into the entanglement, your Mother’s health deteriorated overnight. You and your Father stayed by her side when she took her last breaths. It was devastating, seeing the woman you looked up to your entire life slowly slip away. You felt like a shell of a person, unable to really harbor any feeling other than pain.
Joel called you and let you know he would not be able to attend the funeral due to work commitments. You did not care, understanding that there’s never a good time for someone to die and he had no obligation to come. You arrived at the funeral home and saw a huge arrangement of purple and blue flowers. On the card, was scribbled in his handwriting.
“What a breath of fresh air she was. Thinking of her family, always. Joel Miller.”
When it was time for the burial, you watched a large SUV pull up right before the final words were going to be spoken. Joel hopped out the back and slowly approached, keeping his distance from you and the rest of the attendees. Once she was lowered into the ground, Joel came over to give his condolences to your inconsolable father.
You stayed back, watching everyone except him leave. You sat in the first row of fold-out chairs, watching them throw dirt over her casket. He sat down next to you, never saying anything. His hand extended out, touching your hand that was resting on your lap. It was an unspoken thing, but you never felt more seen in your entire life. He somehow knew exactly what you needed.
Someone next to you.
After a couple of months, you felt more like yourself. You called him one night, asking if he was available for a drive. He parked his truck in your usual meet-up spot. You crawled up into the passenger seat and asked him to drive. You did not care where. You two caught up and once he could tell you were getting back to some semblance of yourself, he made his move. He was stopped at a red light when he placed his hand on your thigh. It was the first time you had sex in his truck. That night kickstarted the affair again, which led to the secret meetings in hotel rooms. You two got more bold with your rendezvous, even taking a weekend to the mountains. You don’t even remember the lie you told your Father as to why you were gone.
Joel always thought you were capable. He admired you for being such a dynamic woman. To be so strong and delicate at the same time was unheard of. Even though you were much younger than him, you were well-versed in everything. You were professional and smart when it came to business. All the while, you were polite and empathetic. He would frequently come to you when he needed advice about work or an opinion on something ethical. He enjoyed hearing you ramble on about things you were passionate about. And God, did he love your laugh.
He did not expect to keep you around as long as he did. But your body was like a drug and Joel had a nasty habit. You were always eager and available, and after a while, Joel started thinking maybe it was too much all at once. When you became comfortable enough to sleep over in his bed and make him breakfast, he knew his world was tilted on its axis.
He needed to find a way to ruin it for himself, as he had done so many times before.
He “slipped up” one night. As he and his chatty neighbor Jeff sat outside and smoked cigars, he spoke about his desire for you. He didn’t particularly say that you two were together, but simply insinuated that he would like to have you alone. And the rumors spread quickly. Soon enough a little birdie was in your Dad’s ear, feeding him information.
Joel kept up the act with you, even though it was not really an act. He did like you, hell, he may have even loved you. But he did not want you to need him. So when people started paying more attention to you and him, he knew his plan was set in motion. In no time, it would all come crashing down.
“If your Dad takes this to the board, I will lose my company. Do you understand that?”
You hated that you understood stupid business jargon. You knew that Joel losing his company would be devastating. But at this point, you could not care less. Because for as long as your affair, you watched his walls fall away. He had let you in more than once and in your delusional state, you believed for a second that he would choose you over his job.
You clench your teeth as you suck in a sharp breath, tears still streaming down your warm face.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Then we just end it. This has already gone too far.”
You finally turn away from him, your eyes falling to the concrete floor. As soon as he says those words, chills run down your arms.
“You know Joel…” You drift off, using your shirt sleeve as a tissue. You wipe away a couple of tears and glare back up at him, “I would have given up everything in my life for this. My job. My relationship with my father. Everything. And the fact that you won’t even give me a chance to talk to my Dad to see if he could spare you and this whole charade, really fucking hurts. I’m not worth that to you and that… That’s what hurts the most.”
“Babe-”
“No. You don’t get to call me that anymore. You don’t get to call me anything.”
The tears flow again as you watch him exhale, his hands on his hips. His hair is unkept and the tie he’s wearing has been loosened.
“I’m sorry,” Is all he can say while your lip quivers. You are trying not to lose it completely.
You just shake your head, “No. You’re not sorry.”
He was. He was sorry, but he could not let you ruin everything.
Joel would soon know that you were everything. And as you left the back door that evening, leaving behind the scent of your perfume, he knew that the smell would somehow taint his sheets, even though you had not been in them for weeks. He already started to miss the feeling of your lips. When he tried to go about his evening, he swore he would see you in the shadows of his large house. He even thought he heard your laugh. You were already haunting him even though the death of your relationship happened just hours before.
You moved on after a couple of years. Met a guy at your 9-5, settled down, and popped out a few kiddos. Some nights you would lie awake, wondering to yourself if Joel was really happy. You never learned the truth of his deceit. After all, your Father was just grateful that his warning to Joel led to his desired outcome, which was him being gone from your life entirely.
And Joel would be haunted for the rest of his life. No woman. No drugs. No party. Nothing ever filled the void you left behind. And it was all his fault. Just like it always had been.
#joel miller fic#joel miller#joel miller tlou#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fanfic#tlou fanfiction#tlou joel#joel tlou#pedro pascal#affair au#check tags#angsty joel miller#fic: nobody likes a secret
494 notes
·
View notes
Text
post arguement — yang jungown
PAIRING. husband!jungwon, preg!wife!reader
GENRE. angst, fluff
WORD CNT. 695
NOTE. sorry i haven’t been posting and haven’t replied to anyone in a while, life has been tough and i hope you understand. also been messing with the themes lately. don’t know what looks good. trying.
you woke up in bed, warmth enveloping you in a way that felt both familiar and surprising. your eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the soft blur of the room. the last thing you remembered was curling up on the couch, raw from the argument with jungwon.
the silence of that moment had been heavy, charged with words that couldn’t be unsaid. you had fallen asleep with tear-streaked cheeks and the ache of his voice replaying in your head, cutting deeper each time.
but now, here you were, back in your shared bed. your fingers brushed the comforter, trying to piece together how you’d gotten there. a slight shift behind you made your heart stutter; jungwon was close, his arm resting lightly around your waist, cautious.
his breath was warm against your back, slow but uneven, as if he’d been awake for a while.
the faint nausea that lingered in the mornings pulled at you, a reminder that this moment wasn’t just yours. the baby growing inside you made everything sharper, more fragile.
last night’s argument had felt even more painful because of it, and the guilt weighed heavily on you now.
jungwon’s arm tightened slightly, and you felt him press his forehead gently against your shoulder. the quiet stretched on, the tension humming between you like a current. he took a shaky breath, breaking the silence.
“i’m sorry,” he said, voice rough, almost breaking. it caught you off-guard; jungwon was rarely this raw, this unguarded. “i shouldn’t have let you sleep out there. i shouldn’t have said anything that made you feel like you had to.”
the sincerity, the guilt in his tone, cracked something open inside you. you didn’t turn to face him, not yet. it felt safer to speak without looking into his eyes. “i shouldn’t have said what i did either,” you whispered, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “but it hurt, jungwon.”
his hand moved from your waist to rest on your arm, tentative, as if afraid you’d pull away. “i know,” he admitted, his voice so quiet it almost disappeared. “i was so caught up in being right, in feeling frustrated… i didn’t think about you. about us.”
you felt his breath hitch, and it only deepened the ache in your chest. “and when i saw you on the couch, curled up like that… it felt like everything shattered.”
you finally turned, shifting to face him. jungwon’s eyes were red-rimmed, guilt swimming in their depths. you could see how much he’d carried through the night, how it weighed on him now. “did you stay up?” you asked, noticing the exhaustion etched across his features.
he nodded, a rueful smile touching his lips for a fleeting moment. “i couldn’t sleep. i kept thinking about how wrong it was, having you out there. and with the baby… i couldn’t let it stay that way.”
your eyes filled with tears, and you blinked them back, not wanting to let the moment spiral into more sadness. “thank you for bringing me back,” you said softly, fingers brushing against his. “i didn’t realize…”
“you shouldn’t have had to,” he said, voice steadying but still thick with emotion. “you’re my everything. both of you are.” he hesitated, eyes searching yours as if he needed to find a sign of forgiveness. “i know saying sorry isn’t enough. but i need you to know that i’m here. i’m here, and i’ll be better.”
the sincerity in his voice, the guilt that laced every word, made your heart clench. you reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers. “i know,” you whispered, feeling the first hint of relief loosen the knot in your chest. “we’ll figure it out. together.”
jungwon’s eyes softened, and he exhaled, as if releasing a breath he’d been holding all night. he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, the touch warm and reassuring. “together,” he echoed, the word carrying a promise that filled the space between you with something tender, something healing.
it wasn’t perfect, and maybe it wouldn’t be for a while. but as he pulled you closer, careful and loving, you felt that for now, it was enough.
do not copy or repost — @/jaysng
#enhypen#enha#enhypen imagines#enhypen fluff#yang jungwon#jungwon#jungwon fluff#enhypen scenarios#enhypen x reader#jungwon enhypen
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
-"How old is she?" RAFE CAMERON X READER
(open requests)
part 2!
paring: rafe cameron x reader
warning: none
summary: you and rafe were friends since birth, you two fell in love but he cheated on you and you went away and never went to outer banks but your mother died and you went to her funeral but you didn't knew rafe and his family would be there.
Going back to Outer Banks was not a good idea and i knew it, but with my mother's death I knew I had to go, my father was in pieces so was I. I look at my one year old daughter sleeping in the back of my car, "I hope I don't see him" i think.
Me and Rafe were childhood friends since ever and 4 years ago when we started dating I knew he was the love of my life, but I was wrong, I can still remember Sofia kissing him and he hugging her:
1 year ago I was going to tell him about the pregnancy but when I saw them my heart broke and I just left Outer Banks without looking back. Had Charlotte in New York, my parents knew but I made them promise to don't talk about her to anyone.
I was not alone, I had friends in New York, I had a job at my dad's company, but the most important thing I had Charlotte. She is just like him, her strong blue eyes, her blonde hair just as soft as his, she had a strong personality just like him, it was his copy, my little chunk of my love with him.
When I got home, everything looked the same, nothing had ever changed. My father wasn't home and I soon went into my old room, I saw polaroids of Rafe and me on the wall, the presents he had given me, it looked like I had never left, everything was clean and the bed was as messy as the day I decided to leave the city behind with a baby.
Charlotte looked at the room with precision for a 1 year old baby, this year on her first birthday we came here at night to have dinner with my parents and we left early in the morning so there was no risk of Rafe knowing I had been there.
"Mama" She pointed to a teddy bear that I had gotten from Rafe on our second anniversary. I gave the bear to her, watching her reaction. My little girl hugged the bear and started laughing.
"How are you so cute" I started tickling her belly, her laughter filled the room with joy.
"Here are my girls" I looked back and my dad was leaning against the door frame with a smile despite his tired looking eyes.
"Bubu" she ran towards him and hugged his leg tightly, my father picked her up with a sad smile on his face "Hello my love" he said to her.
"The burial will be tomorrow morning" he said with a soft voice.
I nodded in agreement and we soon went to dinner.
In my dream, Rafe laughed with me in my room, "If we have a daughter, her name will be Charlotte." He said looking at my eyes
"Why that name?"
"I don't know, love, I just like it." And he hugged me softly.
I woke up confused with my daughter in the crib next to me.
The route to the funeral was silent, I just thought about how I wished my mother was here. She was very sick and cancer took her from us, my father said that at least he had ended her suffering and pain during those years.
I got out of the car with Charlotte and her teddy bear by my side, her dress was black with a big bow on her side and I was with the same dress. There were few people at the funeral but since my mother was a pogue there were many of her pogue friends and I saw John B's group right at the top of the stairs JJ looked at me and smiled. The day was beautiful but it seemed unfair because my mother had died but I knew that the weather was a message from her telling me that she was okay.
My father picked Charlotte up and they went in first and I was just working up the courage to go in while praying not to see him. The crowd had already left and I started to enter the house near the beach where my mother's funeral would be.
Until someone bumped into me, I knew that scent but I didn't want to believe it, there it was. Rafe was wearing a black suit, his eyes got bigger when he saw me and he seemed to want to say something but he couldn't, he was in complete shock to see me after 1 year without news.
"Um-oh hi-" he was interrupted by my daughter screaming mommy when she saw me, Charlotte asked to be held by me and I picked her up. Rafe looked at her holding the teddy bear with confusion, his head turned to the side and so did my daughter's, they looked at each other as if in a mirror.
"Mama" my daughter tried to go to rafe's lap who was in complete shock.
"Charlotte no baby you can't" when he heard his name rafe he felt like he was going to faint
"Charlotte? wh-who is this?"
I had thought about this conversation for a long time but nothing came out of my mouth, I always thought that I could call Rafe and tell him everything and we could become a happy family like we dreamed of but I couldn't say anything.
"Rafe, c'mon your sister is asking about you-oh hi" There she was, Sofia look at me with disgust and confusion, but when she saw the baby in my arms she just looked at Rafe looking for some answer as to who that was.
"How old is she?" Rafe asked with a weak voice and tears in his eyes, I could tell he knew the answer but wanted to hear it from me. Before I could answer, my father appeared in the hall and understood what was happening.
"Where were you, let's go is going to start" My father grabbed my hand and took me while I was in complete shock and Charlotte was crying wanting to go to Rafe's arms.
I just walked away and left a confused Rafe with his eyes closed as if he was holding himself back from crying.
"Fuck" was the only thing that crossed my mind.
part 2? I had this idea on the subway on the way to school and i had to write it! let me know if you guys want pt 2💞
#rafe obx#rafe cameron#random blurbs#rafe x reader#outerbanks rafe#rafe outer banks#jj maybank x you#outer banks#one shot#fanfic#blurb#rafe cameron blurb#love#sarah cameron#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#jj obx#jj mayback imagine
456 notes
·
View notes
Text
Posted 16:35, 12/5 to r/puppyplay
How do I get used to nerve integrating tail
So my gf a few weeks ago admitted she was into puppy play. Now I'm a pretty vanilla guy so I was a bit wary, but open to try it. We've gotten a collar and leash that I wear when we play, but I just got my Christmas bonus, so we splurged on a nerve integrating tail. It feels pretty weird to have it on, but my gf is ecstatic. It certainly has brightened up our bedroom life lately. I'm still not entirely into puppy play, especially when she calls me a "good boy" but I do admit it's quite fun. My only question is how do I get used to it.
Posted 22:51, 12/17 to r/puppyplay
Is it dangerous to wear NIT for more than two weeks?
Hello again,
Thanks for all the advice y'all gave me in the last post, I'm really used to the tail now. I love the wave it wags when I'm excited and so does my gf. It has come to the point I feel like I'm missing something when I take it off. I know the general advice is not to keep it on for more than two weeks but I kind of want to keep it on. I work from home so none of my coworkers know I'm wearing it. And when I do need to go out, it's really easy to hide it under some clothes. So is there any risk to having it on for more than two weeks?
Posted 08:11, 1/7 to r/puppyplay
Skin grown over NIT port
So I just woke up and looked at my NIT and saw that skin has grown over the port. Whenever I try to take the tail off it hurts like hell. What can I do?
Posted 09:12, 1/7 to r/medicaladvice
Any way to remove an overgrown nerve integrated prosthetic?
I wore a NIP longer than the recommended time and skin has grown over it, is there any way to take it off?
Posted 18:15 1/7 to r/puppyplay
Gf is okay with permanent NIT
It's been an eventful morning for me and my gf. I told her the news that I'm stuck with a NIT from now on. I expected my gf to leave me, but she's been nothing but supportive. I'm usually not one for being the little spoon, but she cradled me and comforted me. I love her so much. Thank y'all for your kind words and support. I know it's fairly common for people to have eccentric prosthetics nowadays, but as much as I love this tail, it's going to take a while to get used to it. I'll keep y'all updated.
Posted 13:43, 2/9 to r/puppyplay
Side effects of permanent NIT?
Hey again,
So I've gotten used to the NIT being permanent, but I've been having some things happen to me that I'm wondering if they're caused by it.
To start, when I was done with a workout, my gf noticed I was panting with my tongue out. I hadn't even realized I was doing that.
Another one is that my body and facial hair have stopped growing. Not that I miss them, but it's kind of weird. Weirder still, my hair has been growing rapidly. I was starting to bald before, but now it's down to my shoulders. It's gotten so long and full that my coworkers joked that it looked more like a woman's hair.
Are these side effects of the tail or am I just losing my mind?
Posted 12:21, 3/15 to r/puppyplay
More side effects of tail?
Hi
So I know y'all said that permanent tails don't have any mental or physical side effects, but I'm not so sure.
I'm not sure when it started, but I'm starting to make more dog like noises. When I'm excited I bark up a storm, whimper when sad, growl when angry. I'm not doing any of those on purpose, it's like the rise from my throat. When I see a squirrel, I feel the urge to chase after it now. My gf has joked that she needs to collar and leash me when we go out, but I'm a bit nervous.
Speaking of my gf, I used to tower over her. Yet today, she was my height, maybe even a bit taller.
Other strange things, my nipples is a bit swollen and puffy. It really hurts to touch them.
What's happening to me?
Posted 10:23, 3/30 to r/puppyplay
Tits?
So I've been in denial for a while, but my tail is making me grow tits. I realized this when I was putting on a tight shirt and my boobs were really clearly visible. My gf nearly died when she saw them. After a bit of laughing/leering, she measured and found they're A cups. She gave me one of her bras to wear, which feels a bit itchy.
Posted 17:12, 3/31 to r/puppyplay
My tail is feminizing me
Hello again,
After looking at old photos of myself compared to me now. I'm certain my tail is feminizing me. I'm shorter than my gf, my skin is soft, I basically have no body hair, my hair is super long, I have tits, and um, my equipment is tiny now. I look better at least, but idk what to do.
Posted 15:35, 4/10 to r/asktransgender
Why does my GF calling me a "good girl" make me so excited.
So I'm a cis? guy. Due to a faulty prosthetic I'm wearing, it has slowly been feminizing me. Now, I'm having some mixed feelings about it and my gf asked if I liked being a guy. I really hadn't cared about my gender before so I said yeah. She then asked me how I felt about the phrase "good boy." When I told her it made me feel weird and awkward, she called me a good girl. I suddenly got so happy and my prosthetic went wild. My inside felt so warm and complete that I couldn't even try to hide how happy I was. What does this mean? Am I trans?
Posted 11:13, 4/19 to r/asktransgender
New Name!
After a week of introspection with my gf, I've realized I'm a trans woman. And to thank her for all the help she's done making me realize that, I let her pick my name.
So hi, I'm Bella
Posted 22:12, 4/21 to r/puppyplay
Gf acting weird
So me and my gf do a lot of puppy play and usually it stays in the bedroom. But lately it's been weird.
To start, she insists on cooking for me. It's such good food, but what's weird is that whenever I eat it, she clicks something. Weirder still, its the same click that I hear whenever I cum.
Also, she's gotten a lot more dominant lately. She's constantly telling me how cute and hot I am. How much she just wants to mark me up. She insists I wear my collar 24/7 so "Everyone knows who owns me." She even asks me to call her owner sometimes.
I get so flustered and my tail goes wild any time she acts like this but it's still weird. She never used to be this direct and dominant. I'm not against it but it's kind of weird.
Posted 16:37, 4/30 to r/asktransgender
Why do clothes feel weird?
So me and my gf have been clothes shopping for a new wardrobe lately and we've run into a brick wall. Every bit of clothes I've worn lately has felt tight and itchy. Even my old boy clothes.
Why is this?
Posted 18:15, 5/7 to r/puppyplay
Why can't I disobey my owner?
Um, so my owner has made some really big changes to my life lately. She's told me I'm not allowed to wear clothes anymore, sleep on the bed, eat on the table. She's gotten me a dog bed to sleep on and some labeled dog bowls for me to eat out of. I have to wear my collar 24/7 and whenever we go out I need to be leashed. I can't even walk on two legs anymore.
Yet I don't want to disobey her. It's not like she's abusive or anything, the opposite really. But my brain can't even think of not listening to her. Especially when I hear a click and every bit of my brain is filled with devotion to her.
What am I doing wrong, why can't I disobey her?
Posted 11:17, 6/5 to r/puppyplay
Y'all were right
Y'all were right. It's so much better being a good puppy for my owner. I don't have to worry about anything. She's so kind and sweet and wonderful and caring and ugh my tail is wagging so fast just talking about her. I'm so glad I've accepted my place. Thank you all so much for helping me realize this.
Posted 14:25, 12/5 to r/puppyplay
Gifts for a really good Puppygirl?
Hello
I'm the owner of a wonderful little puppygirl. She's had a big year of changes and I want to get her something wonderful to cap it off. Any suggestions?
#t4t lesbian#t4t ns/fw#queer nsft#t4t nsft#lesbian nsft#lesbian ns/fw#mtf ns/fw#wlw nsft#lesbian#bottomposting#puppyposting#puppy sub#bd/sm puppy#dumb puppy#transformation#hornyposting#high effort hornypost#hrt that turns you into a puppygirl#smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
“You have a council meeting” you sighed as your monster husband was still lazily thrusting into you, “You’re going to be late”.
You laid on your side, your back against his chest, and him still inside you from how you fell asleep last night. A few times a year he went through a rut that lasted a week or so. Though it varied a bit each time.
The first time it happened the two of you barely knew each other, your arranged marriage only began a few weeks prior. Overnight he went from polite but standoffish to glued to your side and discreetly trying to nuzzle you.
You immediately called him out for it and he embarrassedly explained what a rut was but promised all he wanted was to cuddle and nuzzle.
The second time you woke up with him pulling your hips back against himself and grinding on you. Through his soft whimpers you managed to piece together that it was his rut again, though now after being married for a few months he was much less shy about it.
He never got aggressive or forceful, just needy. Refusing to be apart from more than strictly necessary, constantly having to have as much contact with you as possible, and nearly begging you to cockwarm him. For an 8.5 ft tall monster with an impressive set of tusks he had a wonderful sad, wet cat expression when he begged that made it impossible to say no to him.
“It is fine, they can go on without me” he protested, still slowing thrusting and showing no intent on stopping.
“Being horny isn’t a good reason to skip your duties” you countered.
“They know this is a thing. It would be culturally insensitive to expect me to go to meetings this week”.
You rolled your eyes, you knew for a fact before you were married he never skipped meetings during his rut. Hell, even during the first one together you would spend all morning cuddling and then he would leave for the day just fine.
“What happened to the workaholic I married?” you teased.
“He found a reason to want to be home” he said and nuzzled his chin against the top of your head.
You felt him sink his entire length into you and you let out a soft moan, no matter how often you did anything you would never fully get used to his size. His hand reached over your hips and between your thighs to play with you, just slowly teasing, he was rarely in a hurry.
“Fine, I supposed that’s a good enough reason to skip your meeting today” you managed to get out between your own soft sighs. In the end could you really complain? Spending the next few days shut in with your husband in bed really was not the worst.
#monster fucker#monster lover#teratophillia#terato#monster x reader#monster smut#monster husband#monster boyfriend
621 notes
·
View notes
Text
i know who you are | 6. the fight
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Chapter Summary: Word of Joel's indiscretion spreads quickly through town, leading to a vicious fight. When Joel begins to worry you may never forgive him, he sets into motion a plan to win you back.
Chapter Warnings: language, angst, pining, sad!Joel, amnesia, slow burn, previous infidelity mentioned, violence (fist fight), blood, bruises, jealousy/possessiveness
WC: 8K
Series Masterlist
The thought of leaving your bed was excruciating.
For nearly three days, you could hardly do much more than use the bathroom and drink some water. When you heard Joel leave for patrol, his footsteps always pausing hesitantly on the other side of your door before begrudgingly going down the steps, you would eventually drag yourself downstairs and force yourself to eat something. Anything. It didn't really matter. You didn't crave anything. Didn't look forward to a single thing except the sweet embrace of sleep. But by the fourth day, you knew you would have to go back to work or else Nick would make a house call to check on you.
You had lied and said you hurt your back so you could get out of working for a few days, but enough time had passed, enough tears were shed, enough pity was wasted when you finally forced yourself to get up one morning and take a shower.
It helped more than you thought it would. The steam billowing around you in the confined space, the warm water pummeling your shoulders, working out the kinks in your muscles from too many hours hunched over in agony. If you had any self-awareness, you might have asked yourself why you had such a powerful reaction to Joel kissing someone else. If you had a clear enough mind, you might have remembered you didn't even react this badly when you woke from your accident only to discover your whole family was dead and the world went to hell.
No, you only seemed to fall into a deep depression over Joel finding comfort from another woman.
And not just any woman. Angie.
It still made your blood boil as you slipped on clean clothes for work. You should have known she was a shark, smelling blood in the water that very first night when she cornered you in the bathroom.
And to make matters worse, he had the audacity to accuse you of not caring. Not giving a shit about him, to be exact.
That fucking asshole.
When you came down the stairs and spotted the coffee maker still on with your favorite mug next to the carafe, you scoffed and kept walking to grab your coat. As much as you wanted some coffee, you were too stubborn to accept Joel's shitty gesture.
The winter sun was blinding against the snow. Or maybe your eyes were just too swollen and dry, too accustomed to staying in the darkness of your bedroom for days on end, but whatever it was caused you to wince and rub your face.
"Hey! You're alive!" you heard Ellie's voice call out from the driveway. She was walking up the path at the exact same time as you with her backpack slung over one shoulder and her winter jacket unzipped.
"Yeah, barely," you replied, wishing you had some of the coffee Joel had left behind. You took the porch steps carefully and met her out on the sidewalk, your pupils finally adjusting to the brightness. "How's it going, kid?"
She opened her mouth to reply but paused, giving you a funny look.
"What's wrong?" you asked, unable to read her expression.
"Nothing, just that nickname... took me by surprise," she laughed with a shake of her head, "you used to call me that before. Haven't heard it in a long time, I guess." You shielded your eyes and shrugged.
"Common nickname, I suppose," you reasoned, and she nodded in agreement.
"How's the back?" she asked with a point, and you almost had to ask her what she was talking about before you remembered your lie.
"Oh! Much better, thanks. Must've pulled a muscle or something, who knows."
"Well, that's good. Listen, I gotta get to school, but do you wanna get dinner later with me and Dina? Seth's making mac and cheese, and it's like, the fucking best, dude," she said excitedly, and you didn't have the heart to say no.
"Yeah, sounds great," you smiled, then gave her a quick wave before heading in the opposite direction towards the infirmary.
It was only a short ten minute walk to work, but the fresh air combined with stretching your muscles for the first time in days really did something to improve your mood. By the time you pushed open the door to the infirmary, you were actually looking forward to working again.
And so was Nick, apparently, because his eyes lit up and his body sagged with relief when he saw you.
"I was a few hours away from sneaking you the good pills and begging you to come back," he joked, then his face turned serious. "Everything alright? What happened?"
"Oh, I'm fine," you said, waving off his concern, "I slipped on some ice and pulled a muscle, it's all good now."
"Well, be careful out there, alright? You're the best aide I have."
"I'm the only aide you have," you corrected him before hanging up your jacket. "What do you need me to do?"
The morning went by fast. Nick had told you in the few days you were out, the clinic wasn't terribly busy, but he unfortunately did fall behind on housekeeping. So you busied yourself running loads of sheets and blankets to the laundry, then sanitizing equipment until Mr. Phillips came in after lunch with a laceration on his arm from working in the stables. It wasn't a bad injury, but it required some cleaning and a few stitches, which you were secretly eager to observe. You wanted to get more exposure to stitching in the hopes of being able to take care of non-emergency injuries by yourself one day.
It felt good to feel useful again. Staying busy forced your mind off Joel and the whole mess waiting for you at home, and you were grateful for the distraction. So much so that you decided to stay a little longer than usual and fold the linens that came back from the laundry. You were killing two birds with one stone: staying busy and avoiding going home in between work and dinner. By now, you knew he'd be back and likely waiting for you, and you still had no idea what you would say.
As the sun began to set and the world outside the infirmary grew darker, you slid your coat back on and locked the door behind you before heading for the dining hall.
Shoving your hands deep into your pockets, you tucked your chin against your chest, feet carrying you swiftly through the streets, eyes cast down and avoiding others as best you could. When you arrived at the dining hall, it was packed, per usual, but you did manage to spot Ellie and Dina holding a small table in the back of the room. As you weaved your way through the crowd, you noticed they were sharing some bread and butter and you felt your stomach rumble. For the first time in days, you felt excited to eat.
"Hey," you said in greeting as you dropped your coat over the back of an empty chair before giving them each a half hug. "Freezing out there."
"Give it a second. It's hotter than hell in here," Dina joked before pushing the basket of bread in your direction. You plopped down into your chair and moaned when you felt the bread was still warm, then tore off little pieces and popped them into your mouth.
"Hungry?" Ellie asked, only partially joking as you nodded vigorously.
"Did you order the mac and cheese yet?"
"Yeah, didn't want him to run out," she replied as she eased back into her chair and turned her head toward Dina. "Do you see Chris and Holly over there? What are they thinking? They know that shit'll get back to Claire. What a bunch of assholes."
"Who?" you asked, your voice muffled around the bread.
"Couple of kids in our class," Dina explained, nodding towards the other side of the hall. You twisted around, your eyes scanning the crowd until you saw a younger couple sitting together, the girl sitting on the guy's lap and toying with his hair. "That's Chris, and he's been dating this girl, Claire, for like, what? Six months or so? And look at him. Letting that hussy crawl all over him. Men are pigs."
You choked on your laughter and took a swig of water. If only they knew.
Ellie's eyes lit up as she looked at something behind you, and you turned around to follow her gaze, spotting Seth as he made his way through the crowd with three plates of mac and cheese. However, just over his left shoulder you happened to notice Joel for the first time since you arrived, but by the looks of it, it was not the first time he noticed you.
He was sitting at his usual table with Tommy and another guy from patrol you vaguely recognized, the other two men engrossed in conversation while Joel pinned you with his stare. You quickly turned away, your cheeks feeling flush, and tried to focus on your dinner.
"Shit, this looks amazing," you said, distracted by the cheesy, piping hot dish set in front of you.
"I'm telling you, man, it's the fucking best," Ellie told you before digging in. You had to stifle a moan when the food hit your tongue for the first time, eternally grateful for the impeccable timing because all you could think about in that moment was how good it tasted, Joel temporarily forgotten for the first time in days.
"Didn't you eat today?" Dina asked, her lips twitching into a grin, and you shook your head.
"Not really. Haven't had much of an appetite this week," you told her, and Ellie tilted her head to the side.
"Your pain was that bad?"
"Huh?" you asked, then it dawned on you once again. The Lie. "Oh, yeah. I mean, I ate a little, I just wanted to sleep, I guess."
"Joel didn't make sure you ate?" she pressed, her eyes flicking over your shoulder. You dropped your fork, scrambling to come up with yet another lie when her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed, making you twist around to see what made her demeanor change so suddenly.
As you expected, she was looking in Joel's direction, but he was no longer looking at your table. It was impossible considering Angie was standing directly in front of him, blocking his view with her body, her hand resting on the back of his chair.
"What is she up to now?" Dina murmured to Ellie, but you could hardly register her words. The way your anger ignited deep within your chest and licked up your throat, it was a miracle you even remembered to breathe. Joel's legs shifted, knees turned away from her, but that was all you could see. You couldn't see the look on his face or hear what was said. You couldn't see where his hands were. But you could see Angie flick her long, straight hair over her shoulder with a flirty laugh that was clearly meant to pull attention onto her.
If you didn't have tunnel vision, you would have noticed she was successful. A few heads turned, men's eyes lingering on her backside while women's eyes darted in your direction, but you were incapable of processing any of it. Ellie was saying your name, but you couldn't hear her over the ringing in your ears.
It was less than a minute. Thirty seconds, tops, and she walked away from him with a sickly grin plastered across her face, her two friends returning her mischievous smile before flanking her side, making their way towards the exit like a swarm of bees.
Without even thinking, you stood up.
"What are you doing?" Ellie asked, but you ignored her. Instead, you pushed your way through the crowd in a trance, shouldering people out of your way without so much as an apology, too laser focused on your target to care.
"Joel!" Ellie called out to him. He was rubbing his face angrily, trying to avoid his brother's eyes glaring at him in disbelief over what he just overheard Angie say when he heard Ellie. Great, she knows, too, he initially thought, but when he looked up and saw Ellie and Dina, panic-stricken, making their way towards the exit, he realized something was happening. He didn't see you until you emerged from the crowd and reached for the door, swinging it open and allowing a cool blast of air into the room before disappearing outside.
"Oh, shit," Joel mumbled, snatching his coat and forcing his way through all the people as quickly as he could. Tommy followed, confused at first, until he realized you were no longer at your table and then it clicked.
By the time you made it outside, you nearly missed where they went, but luck was on your side because her high-pitched giggle danced through the bitter cold air and you twisted your head to the left, just in time to see the three women in the shadow of night round a corner and head down a residential street.
You were nearly running to catch up with them, but you couldn't feel your feet hit the ground or hear the gravel crunching under your boots. And neither did they, because when you found yourself less than ten feet away, they were still giggling and talking animatedly amongst themselves, completely oblivious to your presence.
Skidding to a stop, you shouted, "Hey!"
All three women swirled around in surprise, their eyes wide and their smiles slipping from their faces when they sensed the rage radiating from your body. But even still, Angie tried to play dumb.
"Can we help you?" she asked sarcastically with a dry laugh, but when you took a step forward, she went quiet.
"Yeah," you sneered, fists clenching at your sides, "I had a question for you, actually."
Angie looked perplexed, not expecting that, so she held her hands out to her side, urging you to continue while Ellie and Dina caught up, standing a few paces back.
"Did you run out of dick to suck in this town or are you just that fucking bored you thought you'd give home wrecking a try?"
Dina snickered behind you and Ellie gasped.
"Home wrecking?" she replied, raising her eyebrow and crossing her arms. "Is that what you'd call your man following me into the ladies room at the bar so he could shove his tongue down my throat?"
Your nostrils flared and your ears began to make that buzzing noise again, so you dug your nails into your palms, desperately trying to ground yourself.
"Can I even call him your man?" she taunted, feeling like she got the upper hand. "Are you even together anymore? You clearly don't fuck him if he was looking for it from-"
You couldn't even remember moving. Your feet had a mind of their own as you closed the distance between you with two long strides and swung your arm back with as much force as you could muster, backhanding Angie right across the mouth.
Her hands flew up to her face and her two friends stumbled backwards in surprise, but all you saw was red. Before she could recover, you grabbed her by the coat and threw her down onto the muddy street, knocking the wind out of her with a sharp gasp. Quickly, before she could get up, you straddled her midsection. With your left hand pressing down on her chest and your right balled into a fist near your head, you landed a punch right on her perfect little nose with a sickening crunch, causing a trail of blood to trickle out of her nostrils seconds later. But that didn't stop you. You kept going, your knuckles, now bloody, marring her flesh over and over again, but when you made contact with her jawbone, you flinched, a jolt of pain shooting down your middle finger making you pause.
That was when Angie saw her opportunity.
She vaulted you off her with her hips and she rolled to her side, pinning you to the ground with blood dripping down her face. She scratched desperately at your eyes and mouth, your hands coming up to protect yourself with a yelp, before she began landing weak punches against your cheek and mouth. And even though they weren't as forceful as your hits, her weight pinning you down kept you from reclaiming the upper hand.
Ellie and Dina were shouting your name, but you tuned them out. All you could focus on was Angie, blocking her punches as best you could while you waited for your opportunity to take her down.
Then, Angie's hand wrapped around your throat, her fingers pressing into your windpipe. Your hands grabbed her wrist as you fought for air and violently thrashed underneath her.
"Face it," she hissed, leaning down and putting more pressure against your throat, "If it was that easy, I was doing you a favor. He never really loved you, you were just an easy fuck before your brain got all scrambled."
Her words were exactly what you needed to get your second wind.
With an angry roar, you punched her right in the throat, and although you couldn't get much force behind it, it was enough to make her loosen her grip in surprise. And just as Tommy and Joel were running up the street, you tossed Angie to the side and scrambled back on top of her. But this time, you didn't stop.
You were merciless, your hands were a blur. Fists rained down blows upon her face while she desperately tried to shield herself, but it was no use.
"Stop!" she sobbed, begging, but the fear in her voice just egged you on.
Blood began to stain her yellow hair, her perfect skin began to turn red and purple while your fists never stopped, each blow creating a new mark or cut. You couldn't stop if you tried. Something snapped and you unlocked a part of yourself you didn't know, or didn't remember, existed. Some part of you that was a warrior. A fighter. A survivor. And it wasn't until Joel hooked his arms underneath yours and hauled you back that you finally stopped, your chest heaving and your eyes wild.
"Y-you crazy b-bitch!" Angie sputtered, blood trickling from her nose and mouth as Tommy knelt in front of her.
"You haven't seen crazy!" you screamed as you kicked and struggled to get out of Joel's grip. Tommy reached down to help Angie up and he motioned for her friends to come forward. "Stay the fuck away from us or I'll fucking kill you!" you shouted, "You hear me, you fucking whore? I will fucking kill you!"
"Calm down!" Joel yelled from behind, but your blood boiled as you focused your rage on him.
"Get your fucking hands off me," you snarled, wrenching your arms out of his grasp. "This is your fault!" you continued, pointing your finger in his face and backing away, ignoring the tortured look he gave you. A sick part of you was pleased to see the sting of your words land.
"I think she needs to see Nick," Tommy said as both of Angie's friends struggled to help her up.
"She's lucky she's alive," you snapped as you wiped the back of your hand over your bloody face.
"Holy shit, dude," Ellie murmured as you turned around, her eyes all wide with shock.
"I'm going home," you grumbled, wiping more blood from your cheek as you began the journey back to your house on shaky legs, wondering how on earth you were expected to share a space with Joel after tonight. Dina and Ellie exchanged some quick words as you left before Ellie quickly caught up with you.
"I'll clean you up."
"You don't-"
"I know. But I want to," she said, wrapping her arm around your shoulder, and it took everything in you not to lean into her and let her drag you home.
You were exhausted. Mentally and physically. And you just wanted to go to bed. But you were grateful for Ellie. Someone who cared, someone who saw you were hurting and needed help without having to ask for it. So you let her clean you up in your bathroom when you arrived back home, her nimble fingers delicately pressing against your wounds, cleansing them as best she could before pressing band aids and butterfly bandages against your cuts and then making you an ice pack to help with the swelling.
She tucked you into bed and made you drink some water before sitting down on the edge of your mattress with a sigh.
"I had no idea," she began, and you quickly waved her off.
"I know. It's... I know," you said, at a loss for words.
"You didn't really hurt your back, did you?" she asked, and you slowly shook your head. "That motherfucker," she seethed, "I can't believe him, I'm going to kill him, I swear-"
"Just leave him alone," you told her, "Let me handle it."
The two of you sat quietly for a moment, each of you lost in your own thoughts before she spoke again.
"It wasn't like that before," she began, and at first you weren't following, but then you realized: she was talking about before your accident. "You were crazy about each other. Angie was never an issue. Neither of you paid her any attention. She just saw an opportunity and took advantage," Ellie said as her fingers tangled in her lap. "I shouldn't even be saying this, it feels like I'm defending him, but I swear. I was with you guys all the time. You were in love, man."
"Things changed, I guess," you said sadly, but she shook her head.
"You guys are what inspired me and Dina to go for it," she said softly, avoiding your gaze. "We were scared, but I saw how you two were together and how you made it work and, I don't know," she said, picking at her fingernail, "I guess what I'm trying to say is, I look up to you guys. And it's kind of fucking with my head right now that all this is happening."
"Ellie, no," you said, shifting a bit in bed and reaching out to her. "Don't say that. Don't question what you and Dina have because of me and Joel."
She swallowed and looked at you, her eyes soft and worried.
"Why did he do it?" she asked quietly, and you could hear the pain in her voice. Pressing your lips together, you shrugged.
"It's complicated."
She nodded and looked away. "Will you do me a favor?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"Would you give him a chance? Just hear him out and let him explain?" she begged, and you immediately bristled. "You don't have to forgive him. Just... don't give up yet. Please. He loves you, I know it, and... and I think you love him, too."
You scoffed then cleared your throat, your fingers coming up to press gently on your tender neck. "I don't love him," you croaked, but she shook her head.
"If you don't love him then why do you care so much?" she countered, and you fell silent, unable to give her an answer, eyes drifting aimlessly around the room. "Why did you almost kill Angie for sleeping with him if you didn't love him?"
"Sleeping with - no, Ellie. They didn't have sex. He kissed her," you quickly explained, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"You rearranged her face because he kissed her?" she asked in disbelief, then laughed softly and stood up. "I'm not saying he didn't fuck up, but dude. Come on. You gotta see it, now, right?"
You took a deep breath and rubbed your eyes.
"Alright. For you, I'll... talk to him, or whatever," you grumbled half-heartedly.
"Thank you," she said, her voice sounding more like herself once again before turning to leave and allowing you to rest. If you had any inkling she was trying to manipulate you into forgiving Joel, it was quickly expunged because you awoke an hour later to her arguing with him in the living room when he arrived home, the conversation ending with her storming out of the house and then his weary footsteps slowly climbing up the stairs.
Once again, you watched as he paused outside your room, two narrow shadows cast by his legs breaking up the thin beam of light under your door until he thought better of it and kept walking, his own bedroom door closing softly with a click.
The pain was worse the next morning, but you refused to admit it. The cuts burned and the bruises throbbed, but you were too stubborn to let any weakness show, although one look at your bruised neck would tell anyone the truth. You forced yourself out of bed, feeling too guilty to bail on Nick after already taking so many days off to wallow in your own misery, and washed up before heading downstairs. Much to your surprise, Joel was sitting at the kitchen table, his big hand cupping a mug of coffee while he stared blankly at the wall, lost in his own thoughts. When you first saw his face, the bags under his eyes evident, even from across the room, it was clear he hardly got any sleep.
Good, you thought. Then you remembered your promise to Ellie and bit back whatever nasty remark you were getting ready to toss his way. Instead, you dragged yourself to the coffee maker, ignoring the mug Joel left out for you and choosing your own, unable to resist the urge to be just a little bit spiteful.
He cleared his throat as you poured your coffee, a warning he was about to speak, and your shoulders tensed.
"How're you feelin'?"
"About as good as I look," you muttered, bringing the coffee to your lips and taking a tiny sip before turning around. He looked up at you, for the first time seeing the extent of your injuries and he jolted forward in his chair, fighting back the instinct to stand up and inspect your wounds. He blinked rapidly, gaze skirting over your face and neck, worry etching his features until you sighed.
"It's not really that bad," you admitted, looking down at your feet.
"Tell Nick t'give you somethin' when you get to work," he said, voice strained. You nodded and took another sip of your coffee. He swallowed nervously before inching forward in his chair and clasping his hands between his knees. "I'm sorry," he said, the words laced with guilt and shame. "I'm so sorry, I fucked up. But you gotta believe me, I didn't go out that night lookin' for her or anyone else. I just wanted to drink and be alone for a little while." He rubbed his palms over his face while you still stared down at the floor, listening.
"I believe you," you finally said after a tense stretch of silence. He dropped his hands and looked up.
"You do?"
"Doesn't mean I forgive you, but I believe you didn't run out of here looking to shove your tongue down someone else's throat."
He grimaced and dropped his chin to his chest.
"D'you think-" he cut himself off and took a deep breath before forcing himself to look at you again. "D'you think you could ever forgive me?"
You closed your eyes and pressed your lips into a thin line.
"I don't know," you said quietly. Your head was pounding, so you rubbed your forehead, his eyes trained on you anxiously from across the room, knee bouncing slightly as he waited to hear you say anything that would give him a glimmer of hope. "You really fucking hurt me, Joel," you said, trying to hide your lower lip as it trembled, but he heard the pain in your voice and it broke his heart.
"I know, I'm an asshole and I don't deserve you. I never did. Not after what happened at the hospital and definitely not now," he said, standing up and taking a few hesitant steps in your direction, stopping when he reached the kitchen island. "But I'll do whatever it takes. I'll wait as long as I need to, I'll spend the rest of my life makin' it up to you, prove to you that-"
"I don't want to lead you on, Joel," you said solemnly, eyes watering. "I can't promise I'll ever move past it. I'm not sure we're strong enough to get through this."
"Yes, we are," he told you adamantly, "I don't want anyone else. I only want you. You ain't leadin' me on because I don't wanna go anywhere else. I don't care what that looks like in the future, I'll take whatever you give me, that's all I want."
You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the wobble in his voice, and looked into the living room, the framed photo of your house that Ellie drew for you several Christmases ago, the same one you read about in your journal, catching your eye, and you felt yourself tear up.
I just want to go home, you thought, but home no longer existed. This was your home, like it or not.
You turned away, looking out the window over the sink blinking back tears, but Joel had already followed your gaze to the photo.
"I should get going," you said, voice thick. You chugged whatever coffee you could and dumped the rest in the sink.
"I'm gonna make it up to you," he said, following you to the door, "I'm gonna make this right." You scoffed.
"Yeah, okay," you mumbled sarcastically, shoving on your boots and coat before swinging open the door and heading out into the frigid winter morning, big flakes of snow slowly swirling and falling from the sky as Joel watched you trudge down the street, hunched over and curled in on yourself. A shell of the person he knew you to be.
He did that. He caused you pain. And it made him sick.
But at least he finally thought of a way he could prove how much you meant to him.
Sweat covered your forehead by the time you made it to the infirmary, your wool knit cap to blame for the excessive heat pouring from your head while your face was ice cold. You yanked it off your head and shed your coat before making your way to the back, your hair sticking to your forehead. Nick was nowhere to be found, but one of the exam room doors was closed and you heard voices murmuring on the other side. Assuming he had an early patient, you pulled your hair back and got to work. It was supposed to be a quiet day. Nick wanted you to work on an updated inventory list after getting a big batch of supplies two weeks prior from an unexplored hole-in-the-wall pharmacy.
The exam room door swung open, the voices clearer now, and your shoulders stiffened when you recognized the patient. You should have assumed Angie would be there that day, but for some reason it hadn't occurred to you.
Your anger had diffused a bit since the night before, that raw, exposed nerve quelled by time, but that didn't stop you from glaring at her as she passed by the inventory closet. Her swollen eyes widened with fear when she saw you and for the first time, you got a good look at the damage you inflicted. Her nose was clearly broken, she was missing a tooth and both eyes were black and blue, but the cuts on her cheeks and lips were superficial, at best.
She kept walking, not daring to say a word in your direction as your eyes followed her out the door. When she left, Nick turned around with a sigh and crossed his arms.
"How're you feeling?"
You shrugged and turned back to your clipboard. "I'm alright."
"You look like shit," he said, sidling up next to you and plucking the ibuprofen from the shelf. He tapped out two pills and dropped them into your palm before closing the bottle, putting it back where it belonged. "Did you eat?"
With just a shake of your head you popped the pills, swallowing them dry before turning back to your task.
"You gotta eat something with those, it'll tear up your stomach," he said, disappearing down the hallway and coming back a few minutes later with an apple. You grimaced but took it anyway, unable to stop your mind from replaying the memory of peeling apples with Joel just a week prior. Before everything went to hell.
Nick watched you quietly for a moment as you chewed your apple slowly and read down the list of medications on your clipboard.
"Do you, uh," he began, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, "do you need someone to talk to?" You glanced up at him in surprise and he dropped his hand back to his side. "We don't have to talk about it. But I know you still feel like you're a stranger in this town, and that's gotta be tough." He scratched his greying chin as he glanced around the room and you had to fight back the laugh that bubbled up your throat. You couldn't help it.
He noticed the amused look on your face at his discomfort and pretended to be annoyed when he muttered, "just come find me if you wanna talk or whatever," but you knew it was just an act. Nick was typically a quiet man, kept to himself and hardly ever spoke to his patients, let alone you, his employee, about personal matters. The fact he was trying now must mean he really thought you needed it.
The older man disappeared down the hall to his office and you smiled to yourself, then focused back on work, grateful for something that took your mind off your misery, even if it was just for a moment.
"What the hell do you want?" Tommy scowled when he flung open his door to find his older brother waiting on the other side, hands shoved deep in his pockets, weight shifting foot to foot in an effort to keep warm.
"C'mon, Tommy, I'm gettin' it from all angles, here."
"I don't give a shit," he spat, turning on his heel to retreat back into the house, but left the front door open. Joel took a step inside and quietly shut the door behind him, glancing around the entryway and peering into the living room as he took off his outerwear.
"Maria home?"
"No, she's down at the stables with Violet. Showin' her the horses, gettin' her outta the house," he grumbled, angrily putting away dishes as he spoke. Joel sighed and flattened his palms against the counter.
"I gotta ask for a favor."
Tommy scoffed and shook his head. "You're a piece of work, y'know that?"
"Yeah, I fuckin' know. Jesus Christ, Tommy, I made one goddamn mistake!" Joel yelled, slapping his hand against the cool countertop. Tommy twisted around, brow furrowed, and crossed his arms.
"Don't take an attitude with me," Tommy said through clenched teeth, "I don't give a shit if everyone's gangin' up on you. You deserve it! I thought she was the one you wanted to spend your life with? The one you'd do anythin' for?"
"She is!" Joel exclaimed, raking his fingers through his hair. Tommy's eyes softened while he watched his brother struggle, the enormity of what he did clearly taking its toll.
"Then what the fuck were you thinkin'?" he asked after a few moments, tone pleading. "Everythin' was goin' so well. You guys were havin' a nice time at the party, laughin' and smilin', we all saw it. Then you take 'er home and step out like that?"
"It's not- I was drunk and misread some things," Joel replied, rubbing his eyes with the pads of his fingers. "I tried to kiss her, she shot me down and I didn't take it all that well, alright?" Joel dropped his hand, exasperated, and looked at Tommy once again, taking a deep breath. "Went to the bar to drink and Angie sunk her claws into me. I got the hell outta there and confessed the second I got home but... didn't matter," he said, hanging his head between his shoulders.
"Angie said you followed her into the bathroom, Joel. Don't bullshit me, I was sittin' right there."
"I know, Jesus, it's my fault. I was drinkin' and upset and she was just... there. Pesterin' me and pushin' my buttons. It was only a second, Tommy. Nothin' else happened, y'hear me?" Joel's eyes were wide and desperate as he stared at his little brother across the kitchen.
"It's no excuse, Joel," Tommy said sadly. Joel pushed off the counter with a huff and yanked angrily at his disheveled hair again.
"I know that. I'm just tellin' you how it went down. But I gotta make it up to her. I gotta make it right."
"How the hell do you plan on doin' that? 'Cause from where I'm sittin', only way she could move past it is if I take her back out into the woods so she can hit her head again and forget," Tommy said.
Joel rolled his eyes and slumped into a chair at the kitchen table.
"I got an idea. Don't know if it'll work, but it's all I can think of to prove what she means to me," he said softly, staring down at his fingers twisting together in his lap.
Tommy sized his brother up and down before taking a few steps closer, his hands coming to grip the back of a chair as he leaned forward.
"Let's hear it."
Joel sighed and tilted his chin up. "I need a week off from patrol. I gotta leave Jackson. And I need a horse."
"What?" Tommy asked incredulously. "In the middle of winter? Absolutely not. You'll die out there."
"I survived out there before I came to Jackson, I'll be fine."
"Been a long fuckin' time and you weren't alone when you did it," Tommy argued.
"You offerin' to help?" Joel asked, and Tommy laughed dryly. But Joel continued to stare at him.
"You're serious, aren't you?"
"'Course I am," Joel replied, "she ain't ever gonna forgive me but I gotta do somethin', Tommy. I can't lose her, and right now, it really feels like I'm gonna lose her." Joel's voice cracked and he turned away, looking out the window so Tommy couldn't see the emotion behind his eyes.
Tommy groaned and yanked a chair out to sit down.
"What'dya need me to do?"
It was a long day on your feet and your face hurt more than you cared to admit, so by the time you arrived home, you decided to make yourself a sandwich and go to bed early, skipping an appearance at the dining hall where you knew half the town would be gawking at you and your wounds, anyway.
Fortunately, Joel was up in his room with the door closed when you quietly snuck upstairs with your sandwich. You were still emotionally exhausted from your brief conversation that morning and you were grateful he wasn't looking to have another one.
Nick had sent you home with one of the good pills, as he called it, so you took it with your meal and within the hour, you were out cold. Maybe if you hadn't taken the pill, you would have been awake to hear Joel's bedroom door squeak open, the rustling of fabric and the tinkling of metal cutting through the quiet hallway as he gripped his sleeping bag in one hand and his backpack stuffed with supplies in the other.
Like he usually did, he paused outside your room, his eyes lingering on the doorknob, ears straining for any sign that you were awake, that maybe you had a change of heart and he could call the whole trip off, but he was only met with silence.
He swallowed and turned towards the stairs, quietly tiptoeing down and packed another bag with food from the pantry before setting all three items by the door. At the last minute, he decided to leave a note, not even certain you would notice or care he was gone, but he knew Tommy would be furious when he found out he lied to him earlier and he really didn't want his brother to waste manpower trying to hunt him down in the wilderness. So he grabbed a pen from a drawer and an old envelope. The tip of his pen hovered over the paper as he struggled with what to say, then finally decided to keep it brief before scribbling his note, leaving it by the coffee maker where he knew you would see it.
Lastly, he strode into the living room and grabbed one more thing, shoving it into his backpack before piling on his layers and heading out the front door, giving the house one last forlorn glance before slipping quietly into the night.
It was your day off, so naturally you allowed yourself to sleep in a little, hoping that the extra rest would help your bruises to heal. At the very least, you were pleased to discover the pain around your throat was significantly better than the day before.
You didn't hear Joel when you got up, but that was typical. He usually had early morning patrol shifts and was back by the afternoon, but when you came downstairs and saw the coffee wasn't made like it normally was, you froze. Your eyes drifted around, noticing his coat and boots were missing.
Maybe he was running behind and just didn't have time to make coffee.
As unusual as that might be, it was the only logical conclusion until you walked over to the coffee maker and saw an aged envelope sticking out of your favorite mug. You frowned and picked it up, eyes quickly scanning the words once, then three more times before the panic set in, your stomach churning worse and worse each time.
Tell Tommy I'll be back in a week.
He knows why.
No matter what, just know I love you with my whole heart, in this world or the next.
Joel
Boots unlaced and coat unzipped, you raced down the street towards Tommy's house, the envelope gripped tightly in your fist.
What the hell did that mean? Where did he go? What is he doing? And why did he sneak out without telling Tommy?
You banged on the door, the wood rattling violently under your clenched fist, only afterwards realizing you could have been waking their daughter but fortunately when the door opened, you saw Violet and Maria playing in the living room over Tommy's shoulder.
"What's goin' on, sugar? You okay?" he asked, voice filled with concern when he saw the look on your face.
"Joel's gone," you said hurriedly before pushing past him and entering the house, yanking off your hat and exchanging glances with Maria from across the room.
"Gone? What'dya mean, gone?"
"I mean I woke up today and he was gone, Tommy!" you exclaimed, handing him the note. "Where did he go?!"
You were aware your voice was panicky, that your eyes were wide with fear and your breath was fast and shallow, but you didn't care how it looked to them in that moment.
Tommy scanned the note and sighed, rubbing his forehead before urging you to join him in the living room, where he collapsed onto the sofa.
"That idiot," he murmured under his breath, handing you back the envelope.
"Where is he, Tommy?" you tried again, hoping to sound less frantic this time.
He glanced at Maria before meeting your gaze.
"He was here yesterday afternoon. Told me he needed a favor. Said he needed a week off from patrol and a horse."
"To do what?" you pressed, sinking down into an armchair next to the couch.
"He said-" he cut himself off and looked down at the note in your hand, ticking his jaw to the side as if he was contemplating how much to tell you.
"Spit it out," you demanded, and his eyes snapped back up to you.
"Said he had a plan to make things up to you. For, y'know," he waved his hand in the air, not wanting to say it. You shook your head.
"What was his plan?"
"He wouldn't tell me everything but I offered to help," Tommy admitted, glancing guiltily at Maria who shot him a surprised glare. "Said he needed to go to California, that he wanted to bring a piece of you back. I'm guessin' you're from out that way?" Tommy asked, and you nodded slowly. "He said he would wait 'til I talked to Maria and worked out the schedule but I guess he decided to fuck off-"
"Tommy!" Maria scolded sharply, covering Violet's ears, and Tommy cringed.
"Sorry," he said softly before turning back to you. "Guess he decided to lone-wolf it."
Your eyes drifted back to the note in your hand, swallowing the lump in your throat while your mind raced to catch up.
"What if he doesn't make it?" you asked, eyes still glued to the envelope, "what if he dies out there and it's all my fault?"
They heard your voice waver and exchanged sympathetic looks.
"He made a choice, he knew the risks," Maria said, "but he's a capable guy. If there were anybody who could make it out there alone, it's Joel."
"Listen, I'd send a couple guys out there lookin' for him but there's a storm brewin'," Tommy said, rubbing his chin and glancing out the window. "Been watchin' those clouds build up over the mountains all week. Told Joel as much and he agreed to wait but reckon he changed his mind and wanted to get in front of it."
"Or it was his plan all along to leave alone and he just made sure no one would come after him," Maria said, making the three of you fall quiet.
"God, what do I do?" you murmured, burying your face in your hands.
Tommy glanced at Maria and she subtly nodded towards the kitchen. He stood and cleared his throat before reaching his arms out towards his daughter.
"C'mere, let's get you somethin' to eat before naptime," he said, lifting Violet and taking her into the kitchen to give you both some privacy.
"What's going on?" Maria asked softly as she sat down in Tommy's place on the couch. You sighed and dropped your hands to your lap.
"I don't know," you said truthfully, "I'm so fucking angry at him, but..."
Maria pursed her lips knowingly. "But you still care."
You groaned and leaned back into the chair. "Yes."
"It's not like you're telling me or anyone else something we didn't already know," she said, "not after what happened with you and Angie in the middle of the street. I mean, look at you," she pointed to your bruised neck. "No one fights like that for someone they don't love."
"I don't love him," you said sternly, eyes flashing angrily in her direction. "You sound like Ellie."
"Okay, so if two people are telling you-"
"I don't want to talk about it right now," you abruptly stood up, brushing your palms on your jeans. "Sorry to barge in like this. I'm sure he'll be fine. I'm actually looking forward to a week of quiet," you tried to say confidently despite how tight your throat felt as you headed towards the door.
Maria called your name as she trailed after you, urging you to stay and talk, but you just pressed your lips together and shook your head.
"Seriously, I'm fine," you said, forcing a smile across your face. "I have some stuff to do so I'll see you guys at dinner or something."
Before she or Tommy could say anything else, you slipped out the door and rushed down the street, back towards home.
It wasn't until later that afternoon, after you had scrubbed clean the kitchen and bathrooms, doing anything and everything you could to stay busy, that you noticed the missing picture from the wall in the living room.
Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️
#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel the last of us#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal#joel miller fluff#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#the last of us game#the last of us hbo#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us#ikwya fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller tlou
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
kept me waiting. (suna rintarou x reader)
summary: for six years, you have loved no other alpha except suna.
word count: 3397
warnings: a/b/o dynamics, alpha!suna, omega!fem!reader, some angst, smut, typical omegaverse jargon (mating, knotting, scent, slick), oral (fem receiving)
tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead @priv-rose
There’s only so long you could have waited.
At 16 years old, you were a budding omega. You had presented recently and were trying to adjust to the changes that came with your secondary gender. You were curious about yourself, and about others as well. In your uncertain new beginning, you met Suna Rintaro.
He had presented as an Alpha about a year ago, and he was more comfortable in his skin than you were. He was brooding and slightly lazy, but endlessly perceptive. Clever. And he smelled to you like a garden you wanted to lay in, surrounded by grass and flowers. He brought you comfort. And your novice omega heart fell in love with him.
The kettle whistled, indicating that your water was ready for a cozy cup of tea. You pour it into a cup, grab your muffin and your tea before settling on the couch. It was evening time and the TV was on, loud cheering emitting from its speakers. You placed your blanket over your lap and then rested your plate on it, finally turning your attention to the screen and the live game that was about to start. You had never once missed a game of Suna’s, after all.
Almost 7 years since you had first met the boy, and to this day, you heart yearned for him. He was your best friend, your most personal confidant. The love of your life, though that fact was not known by him. Your Omega had attached herself to him explicitly, vowed to love him forever, and despite him not returning your feelings, you hung on to the tiniest, withering hope that somehow, things between you two would work out.
The game was an exhilarating one, and in the end, EJP Raijins came out of it victorious. You watched the team celebrate on screen, grinning wide and cheering them on silently. When the camera panned to Suna, your heart squeezed. You shot him a quick congratulations text, asking him how he wanted to celebrate. Suna had informed you beforehand that he would be crashing at yours after the game, since you lived so close to the venue. You had enthusiastically agreed, of course. Any excuse to spend more time with him.
Half an hour later, your phone pinged with a reply from him.
‘Will be back late, sorry.. dont wait up’
You pursed your lips in disappointment before sighing loudly and resigning to an early night. It was fine, you were tired from work anyway, so getting extra sleep will be good. But spending some time with Suna….
He had been so busy lately, with rigorous practices leading up to the beginning of this season. You hadn’t seen him in weeks, and you didn’t enjoy that fact, nor did your omega. You missed him terribly. You swallowed down your sadness and trudged into bed. It was a familiar feeling when it came to Suna. The yearning and the realization that he wasn’t yours.
When you woke up the next morning, the sun was high in the sky and filtering through your closed curtains. You groaned and cursed softly, not expecting to sleep in so late. Your mood only lightened when you walked into the kitchen and found Suna sitting on the island, scrolling through his phone over a steaming cup of tea. His hair was messy and unkempt, indicating that he just woke up, but the sight of him had your face lifting with a smile.
“Rin!” You greeted, clearing your throat when you heard how hoarse your voice was. “Congratulations on the game!”
“Hey,” His smile made your heart squeeze. “Sorry, did I wake you last night?”
You blinked in confusion. “No?”
“Oh.” He chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. “Good, good.”
You eyed him for a moment, trying to gauge what he meant. You walked toward the kettle that was still going, planning on pouring some of it for yourself too. As you moved past the man, a scent hit your nose and your body stiffened.
Omega.
There was no doubt in your head. It was an omega scent, wafting off Suna in waves and mixing intimately with his own wonderful scent. You froze behind him, nose twitching when you took another deep breath and identified the scent even more distinctly. You didn’t recognize it, but you knew it was omega. And the way it was coming off Suna, focused so closely on his scent glands meant only one thing.
“Why’d you get here so late, Rin?” There was a little tremble in your voice.
Suna didn’t seem to notice, scrolling idly through his phone, distracted. He hummed a bit in question before replying.
“Drinking with the guys.” He drawled.
And then? You didn’t ask. It wasn’t your place. You loved foolishly believing that Suna was your Alpha but he wasn’t. And you couldn’t exactly tell him to not see any omega when you didn’t have any claim on him either. Silently, you left the kitchen, hoping he wouldn’t call after you, walking into your room and closing the door. You leaned your forehead against the warm wood and closed your eyes.
Stupid. Stupid. What right did you have to feel the way you did? Suna wasn’t yours. He could be with anyone he pleased. He could sleep with other omegas. Scent them. Court them. Knot them. Your throat tightened.
So then why did you feel like a wounded animal? Why was your omega whining like she had lost her mate and not some random alpha she had unfairly been obsessed with for so long? In moments like this, you hated your secondary gender. You hated your omega. You hated that you were so in love with Suna that this felt like cheating to you.
However, your hurt was exclusively your own, and you couldn’t project it onto anyone else. Suna was here now, and even though the sight of him made you weep, you still found joy in being around him. You would spend the day with him, and get the closure you needed. Then you would lick your wounds and move on. You had waited long enough.
So that’s what you did. And here you were now, a week later, sitting across from an Alpha you had met just today, listening to him talk about his job and his hobbies while you smiled and nodded. There was an almost bitter undertone to your feelings. Over the days, your sadness had transformed into anger. It was unjustified and not really something Suna deserved, but you still directed it at him. Because he had ruined you for anyone else.
The Alpha before you was a perfect gentleman. He was a friend of your friend’s, and everything she had told you about him was true. He was kind, well spoken, good looking. He knew how to carry a conversation, since he was doing most of the talking while you rolled around in your own head.
But he wasn’t witty. He wasn’t quick and sly. He didn’t have a thin, cutting smirk and narrow green eyes that pierced through you. He didn’t smell like freshly cut grass and cool, open air.
He wasn’t Suna.
After the date, he walked you to the train station, where you claimed you would get on the train home. He gave you a respectful hug and smiled kindly when you said you would call (you wouldn’t call). Then, when he mixed in with the crowd and disappeared, you turned around and walked straight out, beginning to trudge on foot to your home.
Your thoughts were all over the place, your eyes were lined with unshed tears, your breath felt like it was trapped in your lungs. You didn’t comprehend the stupidity behind walking all the way home, and how it would take hours. Your friend texted you, asking about the date. You didn’t reply. Instead, you tapped on that one cursed name that you couldn’t wipe from your mind and sent only two words.
Fuck you.
It took you two and a half hours to walk home. It could have been quicker if you weren’t in heels. After about half an hour of walking in them, your feet began to hurt. You used the pain to distract yourself from the jumble of thoughts in your head, and by the time you got home, you didn’t even want to look down at them. You couldn’t imagine how bad they looked, if the tingling and shooting pains were any indication. It now traveled up your legs and to your lower back, aching all over. At some point, the air nipped cold at your cheeks, and you finally noticed that it was because of the tears that now ran down them.
When you unlocked the door and stepped inside the warmth of your apartment was the first time you seemed to be aware of your surroundings. You froze just inside the door when a large figure blocked the light, making you look up at a scowling Suna.
“Where the hell were you? I was calling like crazy!” His voice was louder than his usual register, and more emotional. You blinked a bit and sniffled. Your skin felt stiff because of the dried tears. Your feet still screamed.
“Why are you here?” Your voice was low.
“I’m-” Suna’s eyes traveled down, and they widened slightly at the sight of your feet.
“What did you- did you walk?”
You sighed and lumbered past him, ignoring the pleading protests of your feet to get the weight off them. You finally sat down on the couch, feeling no better. The pain was still there. You kept your focus acutely on it, trying not to look at the one man who was causing your misery. But he seemed adamant on making himself known, kneeling before you to help take off your shoes. You jerked your legs away. Suna looked up at you, shocked.
“Don’t touch me.” Your voice was cutting.
Something flashed in his eyes. “Let me help.”
“I don’t need your help. I don’t need you.”
Suna reached for your shoe strap again. “Don’t be stubborn, omega.”
You felt your blood boil and you finally raised your voice. “Don’t call me that!”
He eyed you for a moment. “What? Omega? Aren’t you one?”
“Suna-”
He glared at you. Glared. A withering look that almost made you shrink. But your emotions were too great. You grit your teeth and didn’t say anything. Didn’t address the fact that you had called him by his last name for the first time in six years.
Suna peeled your shoes off your feet as gently as he could. But it hurt regardless, and you hissed when they finally came off. He ran soothing hands over the tender, angry skin. You tried not to think about his touch, tried not to sink into the feeling. But your efforts only made tears gather in your lash line once more. You eyed his raven hair, his head bent low to look at your feet. He sat cross legged before you, laying light touches on the swollen parts of your feet.
“Why are you here?” You repeated.
“Well, when my best friend texted me a colorful ‘fuck you’ out of nowhere, then proceeded to ignore all my calls, I was understandably worried.”
You sighed and looked away just before he could meet your eyes. He continued. “You wanna tell me what that was about?”
You didn’t reply, pointedly looking away. You cursed at the moment of weakness that caused your lapse of judgment and made you text him. Him showing up was your own mistake.
He exhaled loudly, looking down at your feet that he was still gently massaging. “I didn’t sleep with anyone.”
Your head snapped to him in shock, eyes wide and mouth dropped open. Suna didn’t look up, but his lips twitched into a little smile.
“That’s why you’ve been acting so weird, right? For the last few days? You were pissed and sad that your Alpha slept with another omega.”
Your mind reeled, and you sat frozen as you tried but failed to absorb Suna’s words. Your alpha?
When he looked up, his lips were tilted in a crooked smile. “I wouldn’t do that to you, baby.”
Again, you lurched. You tried to pull your feet from his grasp, to stand up and get away from him, put any distance between you two. Maybe his scent was making you heady. Maybe you were hallucinating. He gripped at your leg, making sure you stayed put.
“You’re- I don’t know what you’re saying.” You rasped.
Suna chuckled before sighing a bit defeatedly. “I wanted to confess in a more romantic way than this but you started being all distant and shit. I can’t see you like this.”
You couldn’t believe it. You had so many questions and not enough answers for the predicament you were in. And Suna’s pretty forest eyes didn’t help keep your head straight either.
“You- what do you mean confess?”
Suna’s hand ran up your bare calf lightly, you felt goosebumps rise on your skin.
“What do you think it means?” He countered in classic Suna fashion. Answering your question with a question. “Telling you that I like you. Taking you out. Courting you. Mating you. The whole she-bang.”
For the hundredth time today, tears filled your eyes. “Rin….”
He watched you, eyes forlorn as you silently weeped. His hand still rubbed comfortingly over your legs. Up and down, slow motions. His touch grounded you.
“You made me wait-” You hiccuped. “-for so long.”
Suna continued eyeing you. He leaned forward to rest his head on your knee. “I thought you knew how much I liked you. I spend all my time with you. I scent your clothes, dammit. I thought you weren’t saying anything on purpose. That you wanted to come to me on your own terms.”
You smacked his shoulder hard. He didn’t even budge. “You are such an asshole.”
Suna chuckled a bit before turning his head and laying a kiss on the side of your knee. The skin tingled. He pulled away only a hair, and his breath hit your skin. A chill ran up your leg. Suna turned his head only slightly, his eyes meeting yours. Your heart skipped. Heat ran down your body, settling at the base of your stomach.
His lips skimmed over the bare skin of your knee. His left hand, placed on your right shin, traveled slowly up your leg until it dipped below the hem of your dress. Your breath caught in your throat. Your core grew damp. Suna’s gaze heated up, and his lip twitched with a tiny smirk.
“I can smell you.”
You bit your lip when his hand traveled up, up, until his skin was meeting delicate lace.
“So wet, omega.” He nipped at your leg. “And I haven’t even done anything. So good for your Alpha. So ready.”
His unoccupied hand hooked under your knee and tugged until your hips reached the edge of your couch, until you were laying back on it. Your eyes didn’t leave him. His words ran straight between your legs, making you clench hard. You bit your lip and looked at Suna with teary eyes.
“Rin.”
You had nothing else to say. Suna let out a breathy laugh and increased the pressure of his thumb on your slit. You gasped.
“Will you be good f’me?” His voice was octaves deeper. “Let me eat out your sweet little pussy?”
His crude language made you moan. Suna finally moved, lips going higher over your thigh until he bypassed your body completely and leaned up to connect his lips with yours. You grasped the sides of his face, kissing him back hard and deep. You poured every emotion into that one kiss, letting Suna lap over your lips hungrily. His scent enveloped you like a comforter, one hand pushing up the skirt of your dress while the other’s movements grew more urgent on your clothed pussy. You were slicking up rapidly. You could feel it run from your hole and down your ass until it landed on the couch. You couldn’t give less of a shit if you were dirtying the furniture. Your brain was rapidly turning into mush as your omega preened under Suna’s attention, his tongue invading your mouth like it was his own and he was only reclaiming it.
“Pretty baby.” He rasped into your mouth. “Good little omega. Get wetter for me. Need to drink all your juice.”
Your face felt like it was on fire, and you whined right against his lips. When he pulled away, you tried to chase after him, already addicted to the high that his lips brought. Suna hummed in amusement and tugged on your panties, pulling them off your ankles. He pressed the fabric directly to his nose and breathed deep. You watched him with half lidded eyes as you bit your lip to hell.
“You smell so fucking divine.” Suna groaned. “Always thought so. Loved cuddling up to you. Being close to you. My lovely omega.”
You moaned again, feeling how you gushed at his words. You didn’t realize you were into praise, but when it came from Suna, it lit a fire inside you. You clenched hard around nothing, now acutely aware of your rapidly building need.
“Rin,” you gasped. “Please. Please.”
“I’m here, baby. I’ve got you.” He shamelessly pried your legs open. You let him. “I’ll take such good care of my omega.”
His first lick was a thick stripe up your open slit, filthy and hungry, before he licked harder and faster over your clit. You gasped at the contact, the urgent relief of finally having stimulation you were craving so much. Your fingers automatically buried themselves in his soft hair, tugging tight at the roots. Suna hummed his approval and suctioned his lips on your clit, lapping and slurping like he was a man starved.
He was glorious at it, eating pussy like it was his last meal, hands holding your thighs apart firmly so his movements were unhindered. Stars burst in your vision and your hips jerked, not sure if you wanted to lean into him or tug away from how intense it was. Your torso undulated and arched, tears ran down the sides of your face and you moaned unencumbered. Suna seemed to enjoy it, because he pulled off with a wet smooch and replaced his lips with his thumb, not leaving you dry for one second.
“So fucking delicious.” His voice had gone scratchy and wrecked. “Good fucking girl. Moan for me, baby. God, I could do this forever.”
You felt something prod at your entrance before two fingers rapidly sank into you to the knuckle, curling hard and rubbing at your walls. You cried out again, not even embarrassed by how wet the noises became, how potent your scent was becoming, you badly you needed to cum on his fingers or you didn’t know what you would do-
His lips sealed over your clit and you were gone.
Suna didn’t even slow his movements as you reached your high. He helped prolong it, sucking harder and pushing his fingers in and out of you, scissoring and curling until your walls felt abused and used beyond belief. You wailed and weeped as you dug your fingers into the couch cushion under you. You had slid so far down the couch that it nearly bent you in half. You tried to close your legs and Suna finally pulled out, kissing over your mound a few times before he leaned up and attached his lips to the skin of your neck, licking and biting lightly over your scent gland, trying to embed his own scent into you. The feeling of him so close to that spot had your mind reeling. You hugged him close.
“Bite me.”
Suna kissed you again. “Not like this.”
“But I love you.”
He chuckled and sucked lightly on your skin until it darkened. “Still won’t mate you on a couch. When I do it, it’s going to be with your cunt full of my knot.”
You flushed and groaned in embarrassment, feeling the way your core pulsed again. Suna laughed and nuzzled your neck.
“Don’t worry. I have a lot of loving to give you before we get there.”
#suna rintarou#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintarō#suna rintarou x reader#suna rintarou x you#suna rintaro x you#suna rintaro smut#suna rintarou smut#suna x reader#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#haikyuu a/b/o#hq a/b/o#alpha x omega#omegaverse#alpha beta omega#a/b/o dynamics#a/b/o verse#alpha suna#omega reader
2K notes
·
View notes