#he acts all tough but his heart’s in the right place

[missadangel]

The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x Ofc!Princess Reader)

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XV. The Plan (+18, Smut, MDNI)

“Parcere proditori, proditio est innocenti.”

To spare the traitor is to betray the innocent.

Marcus, after leaving you in the poorhouse, made his way to Palatine Hill. He had a bad feeling about it and it was getting worse. It was tough for him to leave you each time. However, today's council was of greater importance than any that had preceded it. It might be the case that this could alter the course of Rome and his own fate.

He got the latest update from his soldiers before heading into the Domus Severiana. He had trust in the Praetorian guards at the gate and those in the courtyard, but with Geta's safety at stake, he couldn't be sure. Octavius met him in the courtyard and followed him into the armoury to help him put on his armour. The next step was to get Geta to the Curia Julia safely. He must do this on his own, with his most trusted soldiers. As a Roman general, Marcus was an expert in a variety of military strategies and tactics, with a particular focus on offensive operations. It was for this reason that he maintained a considerable military presence on the Field of Mars, prepared for any eventuality. They were ready to act on his orders. He had invested a great deal of time and effort in training them, with the aim of making them all well-raised soldiers and ensuring they were prepared to take action should the need arise. He was certain that he would eventually have to deal with the Praetorian Guard. However, since you came into his life, his priorities have shifted somewhat. He was no longer seeking to overthrow the Emperor, but rather to assist him in becoming a capable leader for Rome. Perhaps he was reluctant to witness further unrest and conflict in the city. He was willing to do whatever he could to ensure a brighter future for his own and for all Roman children.

Marcus put on his armour and armed himself with his sword before heading to the courtyard with Octavius. Geta and his mother, Julia, were there, too, with a few guards awaiting him. As soon as Geta saw them, he walked toward them.

"Acacius, where's my sister? Why didn't you bring her with you?" he asked, a little louder than necessary.

"She's somewhere safe, so there's no need to worry."

"That's nonsense! You should have brought her here with you. I don't think it's a good idea for her to stay outside the palace right now."

Marcus gave him a stern look. "So you're the one who ordered the guards to look for her everywhere?"

"Yes, I wasn't sure how Macrinus would take the council's urgent decision, so I thought maybe I could bring her here this way."

Marcus strode over to him, looking angry, which made Geta tense up.

"You knew she was with me."

"But I didn't know where you were, so I had to get them to look for you both. Roughly half of the guards were still on his side. I just wanted to make sure that my guard could find you before anyone else did."

Marcus tried to calm down, taking a deep breath. "This shows that the palace isn't a safe place either. Fortunately, she's safe now, my men are protecting her," he said then. “May I ask how the Council decided to meet today?” His eyes shifted to Julia, but she averted her gaze.

"It is difficult to convey the extent of my mother's efforts, but we have now gained the upper hand in the council," he said, winking at her. “It was unanimously agreed that an urgent meeting should be convened, today.”

Marcus was not interested in the specifics of her success. “I see.” He murmured.

“So let's proceed with the next steps and conclude this, shall we?”

Marcus nodded. "Indeed."

By noon, Geta and Julia's carriage had arrived at the Roman Forum. As they made their way through the streets, they were accompanied by other soldiers and guards who appeared to be loyal to Geta for the time being. The members of the Senate were already assembled in the Curia Julia. While Geta and Julia proceeded up the stairs, Marcus followed at a distance, taking care to observe his surroundings. However, the issue was not external, but rather within the Council chamber itself. Some of the Council members were absent, and it was not difficult to discern which ones. The other members expressed their concerns about their absence, and Geta was insistent on commencing the session. However, this was contrary to the law. Therefore, they decided to wait, but this was about to exacerbate the situation further. Marcus was concerned that this endless waiting time might be a sign of something bad.

‘What is this place? Where are you taking me?’ you asked Macrinus. You followed him through narrow streets and then through a tunneled passage into a large building.

"You will see it soon enough, my lady." He replied confidently.

You didn't want to come to this strange place with that bastard, but you had no choice. He had his plans for today, no doubt about it. You soon passed through the stone walls that resembled those under the Colosseum and observed a group of men. They were all members of the Senate, and you knew them at once by their white togas.

"What's the meaning of this?" Your voice was loud.

Macrinus ignored you, and the members of the Senate looked at you with a hint of hesitation.

"You really brought her," said one of them.

"I always get what I want, consul. You should have known this by now." Macrinus grinned then clasped his hands. "Now that we have the princess, we shall move on to the next stage."

"Consul Macrinus, I'm not entirely convinced if that's the best course of action. I think it is unwise to abduct General Acasius' wife, the princess, and force them to cooperate." One of them said.

"Council must have met by now. Geta's guards will be looking for us."

"And do not forget the Acacius's soldiers!"

"Cease the complaining!" Macrinus yelled at them. "Why can't you see the opportunity that I see? They can't start the session without us, yet they can't make a decision either. And as for Geta, he is not like Caracalla." He turned towards you. "He values his sister more than you realise.” Then looked at them once again. "So, Acacius will bring us Geta with his own hands and hand him over, and I will kill him. This will make my path to the throne. Then we'll all win. See? It's straightforward. There's no need to complain like old ladies, is there?”

"You'll all be punished for this!" You shouted. “You'll lose your statues, your title, everything you have! Release me at once, I'm warning you!"

The consuls exchanged glances, and Macrinus became visibly upset and approached and grabbed your arm.

"I see you've been very talkative since I last saw you, Aurelia. However, you're wasting your breath. I'll take your brother's life eventually and become an emperor.”

"It will never happen!" You barked. He touched your hair, and you turned your head to the other side in disgust. "You will witness it. I will make sure of that." He looked at the guards. "Take the princess away and lock her up."

"Let go of me!" You resisted, struggling. But the guards ignored you.

It didn't seem like an easy situation to get out of this time. Your chest tightened as you considered the possibility that he might win. If that were to happen, it would undoubtedly mean losing everything. It would be disastrous.

You descended the stone stairs and were taken aback by what you saw. There were cells with iron bars, like a dungeon. You stopped and looked at the guards.

“Please keep walking, my lady.” His tone was stern.

When you refused, the guards looked at each other and one of them grabbed your arm.

"'Let go of my arm!" You yelled, trying to fight back but to no avail. The other one opened the door to one of the cells and they forced you inside.

"I am your princess! You can't do this! Can't you hear me?"

They kept ignoring you, and locked the cell. You gripped the bars.

"Please, don't do this, let me out! Please!" Your voice was pleading this time, but it seemed to have no effect on them. One of them stood by the bars and the other near the stairs. You gave up begging, turned your back on them, and looked into the cell. It was almost the filthiest place you had ever been. The stone walls looked like weathered rock. The floor was dirty, dusty and filthy. You were so tired, that your feet were about to betray you, but you had no intention of sitting down or leaning against the wall, so you decided to cross your arms and just wait. You had never felt so helpless, not even when you were running away from Flavius in the woods. There was nothing more horrible than having your freedom taken away, the feeling of being trapped made your chest ache.

Before long, you heard footsteps echoing through the hall. You looked in that direction and saw the guards nodding to Macrinus. He had his usual self-assured look on his face, bowing respectfully to you as if he had done nothing wrong.

You went over to the iron bars. “Get me out of here at once!’

He gave a little smirk. “I'm really sorry about the poor facilities, my lady, but I am a little unsure that you'd behave yourself. After all, you have a very stubborn and determined temperament.”

You pursed your lips. “What's this place anyway? What gives you the right to lock me in here?”

Macrinus put his hands on the iron bars and observed as if he were seeing them for the first time. “This is where the gladiators stay. They get their first training at this school before heading to the Colosseum."

"Do I look like a gladiator to you?"

Macrinus laughed. "Of course not, my lady. Let's just say I'm playing it safe."

"Locking me up won't convince me of anything."

"Is that so? Hmm, maybe not you, but I think I could easily persuade your brother or your husband. They both care a lot about you after all."

You took a step towards him. "What exactly are you planning? As soon as you ascend to the throne, you will exile my husband, declare our marriage null and void, and force me to marry you?”

“More or less, yes.”

"That's not going to happen! I'm never going to marry you, not in this life, or the next!" Your voice bounced off the cold stone walls with a ringing sound.

Macrinus seemed serious this time. "Then you'll be stuck under home detention for the rest of your life. There won't be a general husband coming to your rescue, nor a foolish brother in hopeless in love with you either."

"Shut your damn mouth!" Your body was shaking with anger.

"I'm giving you one last chance, Aurelia. Think carefully. Once Geta's gone, I'll be the new emperor. And then you'll do what I want." Macrinus put his hands on the bars just above yours. "'I thought it would be better to exile Acacius for his heroism, so that would not provoke a public outrage, but if you try my patience and resist, I will make you watch him die in the Colosseum. I swear I will."

You swallowed, even the thought was enough to make your heart ache. "I am carrying his child, how can you be so heartless, so damned?”

"A child?” He laughed. “As a medicus I'm sure you can find ways to get rid of that.”

"Damn you!" You reached through the bars to hit him in the face, but he grabbed your hand. He made you put your hand on his collar. There was a marking on his chest.

"Take a look at this! Do you know what this is? It's your father's mark!"

You observed the mark. "Were you a slave?"

Macrinus released your hand and you pulled it back.

"I was, during your father's time, but I managed to get into the senate. He was a strong and powerful man, your father. A soldier, a dictator, and a tough opponent. I learned a lot from him, Aurelia. But I still couldn't gain his trust, no matter how hard I tried. Fortunately, his sons weren't like him."  He pointed his finger at you. "You're more like your father than they are. I realised the first time I saw you in Egypt. Look, no matter how much you refuse, you can't escape what's coming. I will get what I deserve."

"No, that will never happen. You will lose. No one will remember you."

This time he sounded angry. "I made you a princess! You got your title back thanks to me! How about a little gratitude?”

"I was planning to come here anyway. Vicius and I had been planning to travel to Rome together to find my true family. If circumstances had been different the rebellion hadn't broken out, and the Roman soldiers hadn't come to put it down. That night..." You took a moment to collect your thoughts. Despite the pain that these memories still evoke, you have learned to embrace them because they have led you to meet Marcus. "He had already told me everything, except who my father was. We were going to open the letter together as soon as we arrived in Rome. You only hastened the process.”

"Vicius," he said, sounding annoyed. He then took a deep breath. "I've had some success in this process, but also had a few failures, and that man is one of them. If he'd handed you over to me then, before Geta and Caracalla ascended the throne, things might be different now."

His disrespect for Vicius was unacceptable and made you even angrier.

"What about Gaius? Isn't he also a great failure of yours?"

"Well, not entirely. If he hadn't taken your father's letter to him as an offer to marry you, who knows, he might still be alive now. He was the one who caused his own death. It's in my interest for him to die if there's any chance of him ascending to the throne." He smiled, but then his face turned angry again. "But he's not the biggest failure or obstacle." He said as he approached the bars, his face was close enough to touch the surface of the iron bars. "Acacius. He's the biggest obstacle that needs to be removed from my path, and I'm going to make sure that I do."

You brought your face closer to his. "My husband, Acacius, will be the end of you. You can be sure of that.”

He put a hand to his chin as if he was thinking. "I am doubt about that Aurelia. Because you see, soon, he will be preoccupied with bringing Geta to me. And once he does, I will take your brother's life and that will be the end of your husband as well." He grinned. "My plan is working perfectly and I will get what I want."

"He is not stupid. He will not fall into your trap.”

“He has no choice. He'll do anything to get you back, I know that."

You knew he was right and you hated it.

"Enough talk. Time to take action." He turned towards the guard. "If there's any trouble, kill her."

You swallowed, trying to stay calm. He then bowed his head to you and headed towards the stairs.

As time passed, the atmosphere in the Curia Julia became increasingly tense. Marcus was at breaking point, and Geta was no different. As Octavius rushed into the hall, almost tripping on the stairs, everyone looked at him with curiosity.

"Sir, you need to come outside," he said to Marcus, keeping his voice low.

"Is something wrong?"

Geta stood up and walked towards them.

"What's going on?"

Octavius’ face was grave as he was about to give them bad news. He looked at the councilors and then at his general. "Sir, Macrinus sent a guard to speak with you..." Octavius looked down in distress.

Marcus frowned, wondering if he was about to hear what he feared most.

"What does he want? Speak at once!" Geta shouted.

Julia tried to calm the council members.

"Princess Aurelia..." Octavius exhaled a deep breath. "Macrinus has abducted her-"

Without even thinking, Marcus stormed to the entrance to leave the hall. Geta followed him, but his mother grabbed his arm.

"Your Majesty! You must stay here-"

"You do that!" he said, roughly pulling his arm away from her.

Marcus rushed down the stairs and, noticing the guard Octavius had pointed at, grabbed his sword and held it to the man's throat. The guard let out a little gasp. "Tell me where she is now!' He roared.

All the soldiers and guards tensed and gripped the hilt of their swords.

"General Acacius, Sir Macrinus is waiting for you at his villa." He said, out of breath, struggling to get the words out. "He also said that he wants you to bring Emperor Geta with you."

“How dare he summon me like this?” Geta shouted. "Acacius, round up your men, and let's move to take him out now, shall we?"

The soldiers looked at their general. Seizing the opportunity of Marcus' thoughtful demeanor, Macrinus' guard took a step back.

"Sir Macrinus only wants the general and Emperor Geta." He stated arrogantly. "If you care about the Princess, you'd better do as-”

Suddenly a schwing sound was heard and Octavius's sword severed his jugular, and he collapsed, tumbling down the stairs and staining the marble steps with his blood. They all watched him die with a deadpan expression.

"Why wait? We must leave now Acacius," Geta touched his shoulder.

Marcus shook his head. “No, he'll kill you the moment I take you there, I can't let it.”

"I'm flattered, general, but this is your wife we're talking about, my sister."

Marcus sheathed his sword. "I am aware, but we must act wisely. If we fall into his trap, it will be the end of us all, which is exactly what he wants us to do."

"So we'll just leave Aurelia in his filthy hands?"

Marcus gave him a deadly look. "Don't you dare speak like you care more about my wife than I do!"

"Then act like you do!" Geta barked.

“General Acacius! Emperor Geta!”

They both turned to face the man calling to them. A man in a black cloak, familiar to Marcus, came up the stairs and approached them. The soldiers tensed, but Marcus gestured to them that it was all right.

"Who the hell are you?" Geta asked, squinting at the man.

"I am Lextus, Your Majesty," the man said, bowing. He looked at Marcus and then back at Geta. "I have something very important to tell you, both of you."

"Man of yours?" Geta asked Marcus.

"No, he is a relative of yours, from Leptis Magna, didn't your mother tell you?"

Geta gave him a dirty look.

"Speak up, what's so important?" Marcus asked.

"We've been tracking Macrinus for a while and we know where he is."

"If that's what you wanted to say, you've come in vain," Geta said, pointing to the guard's lifeless body lying at the bottom of the stairs.. "That cunt Macrinus is already waiting for us to go to him."

"It's a trap, he's luring you into it, Your Majesty. The Lady Aurelia is not with him, she is elsewhere," he said, and as soon as he mentioned your name, Marcus and Geta's eyes locked on him. "We know where he's keeping her, that's what I came here to tell you."

Marcus grabbed him by the collar of his cloak. "How do you know? When did you see her? Speak at once!"

"The General asked you a question!" Geta demanded.

Lexus hadn't expected either of them to react this way, he had to take a breath to speak. "Praetorians with Macrinus' lead intercepted Lady Aurelia's carriage in the alleyway. We followed the carriage, which took us straight to Ludus Magnus. We saw Lady Aurelia enter with the guards, and I have men stationed there to keep an eye on things. We are unsure why, but we know some consuls are there."

Geta looked at Marcus. "Why would he take her to the damn gladiator training school? What is he trying to do?"

"Tell me, is Macrinus still there or in his villa?" Marcus demanded.

"He left a few hours ago, we believe he went to there."

"We need to get to Aurelia now!" Geta said.

"The guards will be watching us. If we head there now, they'll inform him. Or even worse, they might hurt her before we get there." Marcus said through clenched teeth.

"What are we going to do then?"

Marcus thought for a moment. He had to think fast and come up with a plan, but he wasn't sure what to do.

It was time to think strategically and take action. As a soldier and general, he was an expert in this. "We need to make some time," he muttered.

"So let's not waste, standing here," Geta whined, adjusting his crown.

Watching him, a plan came to Marcus' mind. "Your Majesty, we must take you to Palatine Hill immediately."

"Are you mad? Macrinus's men are all over the place. Didn't you just say so yourself?”

Marcus exhaled. “That's why we have to leave now. I'm asking you to trust me.”

Geta narrowed his eyes. "In the past, I wouldn't have trusted you, but now I think I do."

"You don't have much choice, after all," Marcus teased as they hurried down the stairs together.

Once Geta was in the carriage, Marcus called Aris over. "Head to the Field of Mars right away and let them know I've ordered the troops to assemble around Macrinus' villa. Try to be as stealthy as you can."

"Yes, sir." He said and quickly walked in the opposite direction.

"The rest of you, come with me," Marcus said. They all nodded and got on their horses.

Geta called out to him as the carriage was moving.  "Acacius, I hope you know what you're doing!"

He still didn't fully trust the other guards accompanying Geta, so he didn't want to tell him his plan yet.

"I need both your patience and your trust, Your Majesty."

"You've got both as long as you save my sister.”

Marcus felt his heart beating faster with worry. He really wanted to come and get you out of there as soon as possible. But he had to think carefully. He knew that if he acted without thinking things through, he might lose you. Besides, he had to be absolutely sure that he got Macrinus this time too.

The guards at Palatine Hill were surprised to see the carriage coming earlier than expected. Geta stepped into the courtyard with Marcus. He tried to take Geta away from the guards, however, two of them came over to them.

"General, we want to help you. We are loyal to the emperor Geta, you can trust us."

Marcus seemed unsure.

"They are in a dilemma because their commander has not yet been chosen, Acacius. Macrinus' side and mine." Geta explained.

"Yes, there are others outside who are on Macrinus' side, sir. But I'm not, and my team here are all loyal to you, highness.”

"You were always so keen to be a Praetorian," Marcus said, looking at the guard. He realised that he was his childhood friend.

"Do you remember me? I thought you might have forgotten." He gave a little smile.

"Yes, you weren't eager to join the army, so I didn't hassle you about it too much."

"I wanted to serve the emperor, General Acacius."

"I see," said Marcus, smiling back.

"I was really proud when I saw you become a general of Rome, you know."

Marcus nodded his thanks.

"That's very touching gentleman, but can you tell us what to do now, our glorious general?" Geta said impatiently.

"Cato!" Marcus called him to his side.

He came running at once. "Sir!"

Marcus put his hand on his shoulder. "We need your help."

Geta frowned. "Isn't that your squire? How can he help us?"

Marcus smiled confidently. "He has the same hair colour and the same size as you, your majesty."

"Excuse me?”

"We're going to confuse them. Could you take off your clothes and give them to Cato?"

Geta opened his eyes wide in surprise. "What did you just say? Tell me you are joking!"

Geta wasn't the only one taken aback. Cato and Octavius exchanged glances, clearly surprised.

Marcus let out a sigh. "He'll take your place, so we won't put you in danger."

"So this is your master plan, Acacius? You seem to have forgotten how clever that cunt is. Sooner or later, he'll figure out that your squire doesn't look handsome as I do." He said smugly. 

"It's not really a concern," Marcus said, grasping Cato's arm. "This buys us some time, at least. Until I get the Aurelia out of there."

They walked together to Geta's chamber. Geta grumbled the whole way but seemed to be convinced at last. Cato looked a bit out of place in the emperor's clothes. He glanced at them hesitantly. Marcus couldn't help but grin when he saw him in Geta's attire. Geta sized him up.

"Ugh, you look like another evil twin of mine! That is all I need!”

"Forgive me, Your Majesty." Cato said, bowing his head.

Marcus held out his hand to Geta. "Your Majesty, can you give me your crown too?"

"Gods above! This is disrespectful and unacceptable, Acacius!"

Marcus rolled his eyes. "It's just a symbol, an item. It has no significance. You don't need the crown to prove that you are an emperor, do you?"

“Huh, you just enjoy lecturing me, don't you?" Geta pursed his lips.

"We're running out of time here."

"Fine!" He gave his crown to him. Cato held his breath as Marcus placed the crown on his head.

"Hmph, if this won't work, I swear on Vesta's fire that I will punish you Acacius."

Marcus smirked in response.

Geta tugged fabric of his gown which made him look like a commoner. '"Whatever, let's get this done as soon as possible and then I shall drink wine until I get drunk so I can forget all about it." He refused to look at their faces as he left his chamber.

As they descended the stairs, Marcus touched Cato on the shoulder. "Keep your face hidden at all costs. Even if they can't see it from a distance, there's still a risk."

"I'll do my best, general."

Marcus tapped his back. "May the Gods be on our side."

And as they approached the entrance to the great courtyard, they put their plan into action.

"Your Majesty, please," Marcus gestured to Geta.

Geta pursed his lips and involuntarily pulled the deep black cloak further up over his head. The gate opened and Marcus approached the carriage with Cato who was in the Emperor's toga, covering his face as naturally as possible. Cato struggled and pretended to resist him. The guards waiting outside, watching them, did not seem to suspect anything. Marcus swiftly pushed Cato into the carriage and told the coachman to start the horses. He then turned to the guards.

"Lead the way!" He said to them. They kicked their horses toward in front of the carriage. Marcus and the others got on their own horses, following the carriage from behind.

The other guards, those who had stayed behind in the palace to protect the real emperor Geta, put on their cloaks over their armour. They were going to take him back to Curia Julia in secret. It was already pretty quiet, as everyone else had left to accompany the false emperor. As per the plan, Marcus must turn his horse around halfway down the road and head for the Domus Vectiliana (Ludus Magnus).

After all, they were acting as if they didn't know where you were, and leading Geta straight into Macrinus' hands which it was not. So the plan was working perfectly. A little later, Marcus glanced at Octavius, and turned his horse round, making the guards surprised. The carriage kept going forward. They looked at each other, unsure of what to do. Their leader cursed and called out to some of them.

"Go after the general! The others stay with me!”

Marcus looked back over his shoulder at the guards who were chasing him as he rode his horse at a gallop. There were five of them. He needed to get rid of them without attracting attention.

"Come on!" He challenged them, drew his sword and turned his horse. He had one of them in his sights. He aimed at his leg and lunged before he could draw his sword, and the man let out a groan and fell off his horse. They were getting closer to the streets.The others yelled and drew their swords, rushing to attack Marcus but he was quick to dodge the attacks of two of them and managed to knock them off their horses. He rode his horse into the alleys to get rid of the rest. People screamed and ran to get out of the way to avoid being crushed by the horses.

"Where the hell is he heading to?" One of them asked the other.

"I think he found out where the princess is! Go there and warn the others before he gets there!”

As soon as they said that, they were both struck down by arrows from nowhere and fell to the ground. Marcus turned and saw Lexus and his men. He stopped his horse and nodded his thanks. Then, without wasting any time, he ordered the curious people out of the way and kicked his horse forward again. Since there was no obstacle in his way, he should be heading to get to you now.

The minutes and hours passed by, and the pain in your legs became increasingly difficult to bear. And you gave up. As you sat on the floor in the cold, smelly, dirty cell, you played with the wedding ring on your finger. Your mind was racing with questions. Why wasn't anyone coming? Or is it too late for everything now? Marcus, Geta... Your heart ached. It was torture, waiting there helplessly, hoping for rescue desperately, unable to do anything. You suddenly felt a pressure under your belly, right where your womb was. You put your hands right on it.

"Ssshh, calm down, my little one. I know you've been through a lot, but hang in there a little longer, please. Your father will come to save us, I promise you. Take his strength, take his courage and hold on. Our little miracle. We will always love you and protect you. So please try to hang in there.”

All of a sudden, a few shouts and the sound of swords clashing came from upstairs. The guards immediately tensed up and gripped the hilts of their swords. You jumped to your feet, unlike them, you felt excitement. Your heart was filled with hope. The sound of the iron gate opening loudly reverberated off the stone walls, and a moment later you saw a guard rolling down the stairs with the deafening sound of his iron armour ringing in your ears. The guards immediately drew their swords at someone on the stairs. First, you heard his angry roar and then Marcus himself rushed down the stairs, kicked one of the guards, and pushed him against the wall. The other swung his sword at him, Marcus crouched and lunged and cut his leg.

"Marcus!" You called out to him cheerfully.

He looked at you and smiled, but the other guard lunged at him, waving his sword.

"Marcus look out!" You pointed at him.

He managed to avoid the lunge at the last moment and hit his opponent in the back with the handle of his sword, causing him to stumble. As he lunged at him again, Marcus drew his pugio and knocked his sword out of his hand with both sword and pugio. And with a really neat move, he cut his neck. The stone walls were covered in a red, rusty-smelling liquid. You ran over to the iron bars and grabbed them. Marcus wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand and looked at you. He looked at you with an intense gaze, his brown eyes sparkling.

"My lady." He said in a soft, velvety voice. "Forgive me for being late." He reached his hand through the bars to touch your face. "How could he imprison you in such a vile place? Did he hurt you?"

You grasped his hand with both of yours and kissed it. "No, I'm alright, don't worry." You forced a smile.

"How can I not, my love? My beloved. My soul. My breath." He then let out a sigh of relief, stroking your chin with his thumb. "Thank the Gods I found you safe and sound." He then gripped the iron bars and jerked them angrily, cursing.

"That man has the key," you said, pointing to one of the guards lying on the floor. Marcus went to him, bent down, and turned his lifeless body to check.

"Geta? Is he okay?”

"He is for now. We don't have much time, though. We need to get out of here now." He took the keys from the man and approached you. He unlocked the cell, setting you free. You took a step towards him and reached out to hug him.

"My lady, there is some blood on me-" You wrapped your arms around him, resting your head on his chest. "...and I'm not very clean." He finished his sentence with a murmur.

"I don't care." You said, closing your eyes and hugging him tighter. You ignored the blood smearing your cheek from his armour and the smell of it.

He lifted his hand to touch your hair, but his hand was covered in blood. He clenched his hand into a fist and wrapped his arm around you, inhaling your scent without touching you. He then pulled back.

"Aurelia, we have to leave, now." His voice was firm.

You nodded and walked towards the stairs while avoiding stepping in the puddle of blood on the ground. Marcus noticed your nervousness and wrapped his arms around you, lifting you into his lap. You looked at his face as he walked up the stairs with you in his arms. He looked very serious and stern, and you could guess what he was feeling, and what he was thinking. It must have been hard for him to find you in a situation where he almost lost you somehow, and to fight to make sure that didn't happen. To kill someone every time, to have blood on his hands. But for Marcus, finding you safe and sound was enough, he didn't care about the rest. He walked through the countless guards lying lifeless on the ground and carried you out in his arms. You were angry that he had to kill them because of Macrinus. It was all his fault, so many people had died because of him so far. Marcus lowered you to the ground beside his horse.

"It may be a bit of a rough ride, but try to hold on, will you?"

You nodded. "I can manage.”

He smiled and moved the saddle back a little so you could sit on it. He then settled in front of you. You put your arms around his waist. Marcus took hold of your arms around him. "Hold on tighter, princess."

Even though you couldn't see his face, you knew he was smiling. He grabbed the horse's reins and kicked his horse forward. You wrapped your arms around him as tightly as you could. With each jolt, your cheek bumped against his back.

"Where are we heading now?" You asked.

As you passed the Colosseum, you noticed the sun was setting over the hills ahead.

"First, I'll take you to the Curia Julia."

You tilted your head to get a better look at his face. "I'm not coming with you?"

He raised an eyebrow and looked at you out of the corner of his eye. "No, Aurelia, I've got a few platoons of my soldiers heading to the area around Macrinus' villa. We need to get ready for the upcoming skirmish."

"You're going to fight the Praetorian Guards?"

He sighed, “I hope not. But if it's necessary to finish off Macrinus, yes.”

You swallowed, nothing was over yet. "Why Curia Julia?"

"Geta is there with the other consuls. The rest of the guards will be guarding them. It's the safest place for you right now.”

Marcus pulled up his horse near the stairs of the Curia Julia. He dismounted and then led you down. A few of the guards came over and nodded at you.

"If there's any trouble, make sure you keep Princess Aurelia and Emperor Geta safe." He spoke to one of them in a firm tone.

"We shall protect them with our lives, general! You just finish him off!" The man put his hand on his chest. "Vae victis.”

Marcus replied. "Vae victis." Then he mounted his horse quickly and looked at you.

"Come back safely!" You said, looking at him.

He nodded and turned his horse around, kicking it forward. You watched him leave until he was out of sight.

"This way, my lady," the guard said.

You felt abandoned as you climbed the stairs with him. Soon you heard a familiar voice.

"Sister!" You looked towards Geta's voice and your eyes widened in surprise. He was wearing a black cloak over regular attire. And what's more, he was in an official building like the Curia Julia with it.

He hugged you and pulled back to look at you. "I was so worried about you, are you alright?"

You nodded your head, it was a little strange to see him like this. "What happened to your fancy toga and crown?"

"Your husband's ingenious plan." He said, rolling his eyes. "Come, rest inside. Your face is as white as marble." He put his arm around you and pulled you inside.

As dusk fell, Marcus was urging his horse to a rapid pace, hastening towards Macrinus' villa. What he saw coming down the hill wasn't quite what he'd expected. His troops had already arrived and it was clear that a battle had taken place and probably been won, but Macrinus was nowhere to be seen.

"General!" One of the soldiers recognised him.

Marcus looked around and noticed Cato in the distance, who was wounded near the carriage ahead. Felix and Aris came over to him. "What the hell happened?" He asked them.

"Sir, the plan worked, but Macrinus wounded Cato and then they attacked us. We managed to kill them all, but unfortunately, he escaped and we couldn't stop him."

"How do you mean he escaped?" Marcus’ voice was like a roar.

"Octavius and a few soldiers went after him, sir."

"Which way did they go?"

"That way," Aris said, pointing down the hill.

"I'll go after them. All of you gather around at once. Take the wounded ones to the Field of Mars."

"Sir, what about them?"

Marcus looked in the direction he was pointing and saw the members of the senate who were loyal to Macrinus. They were looking at him with a look of concern on their faces.

"The rest of you, take them to the Roman Forum and wait there for my arrival." He said, looking at them from a distance. "Can you confirm that the other troops are still controlling the entrances and exits to the city?"

"Yes, sir. The city is currently sealed off."

"Good." He said, pulling on the reins of his horse, which reared up with a loud neigh. "Make them assemble at once and get moving!" He commanded.

As he rode, perhaps faster than he had ever ridden before, determined to catch Macrinus at any cost, he realised that he missed his horse, Dromos. He promised himself that when all this was over, he would return home and see his old friend again. And then he could go out riding with you again. However, at the moment, he just had to focus on finding and getting rid of the source of all his recent problems. Before long, he heard the sound of swords clashing, so he rode towards it. He saw his soldiers and the guards were fighting, but they seemed to be getting along.

"Octavius is following him, sir!" a soldier pointed ahead. Then he killed the guard he was fighting, and he jumped on his horse to follow his general. The other one did the same too.

Marcus was soon excited to realise that Octavius was running after Macrinus on foot. He was very close. Marcus called out to the soldiers behind him.

"Block his way!”

They did as he said and rode their horses around either side of Macrinus, to block him from going any further. He realised this and started running backwards. Marcus seized the chance and leaped off his horse to capture him. They ended up rolling on the ground together. Macrinus tried to fight back, but he was so tired that he gave up and collapsed, taking a few punches to the face from Marcus in the process.

The others walked towards their General. All of them stared down at the panting, treacherous, sixty-year-old dark-skinned man. Marcus drew his sword, Macrinus cursed, crawled back. But Marcus did something that even surprised himself. He thrust his sword into the ground right next to Macrinus.

Octavius touched his shoulder, "Sir." There were a lot of questions in his tone.

‘We're heading to the Roman Forum. Bring him along."

The soldiers looked at each other, confused.

"But sir..." Octavius protested.

"This cunt must be punished by the emperor Geta himself."

Macrinus gave a hysterical laugh, but it was clear he was upset with that decision.

"You don't deserve a painless death," he said, looking at him. "I'm sure the emperor has far more creative ideas for you."

The atmosphere in the Curia Julia was palpably tense, with everyone visibly anxious and on the brink of exhaustion. The noise was unbearable and it was giving you a headache. But Geta was determined. He had no intention of sending anyone home yet. This will be solved today, he said. He made you sit in the imperial seat that belonged to Caracalla, since you were exhausted, you didn't object, despite Julia's glare. Furthermore, it was clear that the Consuls had other matters to discuss, and did not care the fact that you were sitting there. Fortunately the murmuring of the crowd was soon heard outside, and everyone turned their heads in the direction of the footsteps approaching the hall.

Your heart pounded with both excitement and nervousness. You felt immense relief when you saw Marcus a short while later. Geta leapt to his feet and looked at him, his eyes wide open. Since you focused on Marcus' face and only later realised who he had brought to the middle of the great hall. When Macrinus fell to his knees on the floor, the consuls first looked at him in astonishment and then started shouting.

"Traitor!"

"He should be beheaded!"

"Throw him from Tarpeian Rock!"

Geta raised his hand and they all fell silent. You and Marcus looked at each other from a distance, wondering why he hadn't killed him. However, he was in a good mood and you were grateful to finally see his sincere smile.

"General Acacius." Geta called him. "On behalf of the Roman people, I am grateful to you for capturing this traitor and bringing him before me, before the Council. He will be judged here, before Roman law, and his final sentence will be given. The council is now in session."

"Your Majesty," someone stated. "I am afraid a council session is not yet feasible in these circumstances. Since your crown is absent and the attire you are wearing is not fit for this occasion. Furthermore, I must point out that it is inappropriate for two women to be present at this time. I demand that the necessary conditions be imposed."

And they all murmured, some agreeing and some objecting.

"Denied!" Geta said firmly. The man frowned and sat down. "Even without my crown, my true identity remains unchanged. Also, the women you are referring to are my mother, your empress, and my sister, your Princess, Aurelia."

Marcus looked at him with a confident half-smile. You could see the pride in his look.

Geta continued. "If there are no other ridiculous objections I will continue. You have all been waiting here all morning, so I will formalise things for the sake of Rome before I tire you out any further."

He silenced the murmurs and continued. His speech took everyone by surprise, including you. At the end of the session, the verdict was reached: Caracalla was declared a tyrant, and all his decrees, orders, wills, and other belongings were declared null and void. Macrinus tried to object several times, but no one dared to stand up for him or support him. Now it was his turn to be punished.

"He was really into training these gladiators and investing in them. Then I'd like to give him a fitting punishment." Geta said with a grin. Then he turned to him. "You will be thrown into the Colosseum, along with the rest of your followers. Your fate will be decided by the gods and the people of Rome." He looked at the guards. "Now get him out of my sight, I don't want to see his ugly face anymore."

Ignoring the pleas of the councilors who had helped Macrinus, Geta closed the session and everyone began to murmur once more. He came over to you, a big grin on his face.

"I can't wait to see that wretched Macrinus in the Colosseum tomorrow!"

You smiled in response. "You did well, brother."

He smiled widely. Marcus approached you both. Geta looked at him.

"Acacius, I'm surprised you didn't kill him, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't glad. It'll be fun tomorrow!" He said, clapping his hands. He winked at you and then went over to his mother.

You looked at Marcus. "I think it's finally over now. We can rest easy, can't we?"

"Yes, my lady," he said, holding your hand. "It's over now.”

You just stared at each other for a while, speaking through your eyes. The councilors left the hall, murmuring, while Geta and his mother had a brief argument. All of this faded into the background for you.

"Looks like we'll be spending another night on Palatine Hill."

Marcus smirked. "One last night. Then tomorrow we'll be heading back to the villa, our home."

You smiled. "Thank the Gods. I miss our home so much."

"I know, me too. Shall we leave now? I need a good bath, and as my wife, you can help me, can't you?" He smirked.

You lifted your head to whisper in his ear. "Anything you wish, my love.”

You arrived at Domus Severiana in the late afternoon. As soon as you stepped into the courtyard, you ordered the slaves to prepare the balneum for you two.

The stone walls of the balneum were softly caressed by the soothing steam of the hot water, while a variety of flowers floated on the surface, their sweet scent creating a tranquil atmosphere in this spacious bath house.  Marcus was in the water, his head thrown back and his eyes closed. You were right behind him, running your slender fingers over his flesh, rubbing his arms and shoulders, helping him to recover from the fatigue of the day.

"Your healing touch has refreshed my body and soul," he murmured. Then he took your hand and brought it to his lips, his collarbone, his chest, running it all over his body. Then he turned towards you, his movement causing some of the water to spill over. You swallowed as his eyes traveled over your naked body, your heart racing with excitement. He reached out for you, grabbed you around the waist, and pulled you into the water. "Now it's my turn to touch you.”

This time the water overflowed, and a lot of the flowers on the surface ended up floating away.

You giggled as Marcus ran his lips along your neck to your collarbone. "You meant to touch me with your lips? But I am in the water, so how are you going to touch the rest of my body I wonder?" You asked playfully.

"I sense a challenge." He murmured, his warm breath brushing against your collarbone. "I shall accept." He then grabbed your hips and lifted you, placing you on his shoulders. His head was between your thighs, your heels touched his back. You moaned with pleasure and laughed as his lips touched your folds. Your back arched instinctively as you felt his tongue in your most sensitive spot. You gripped his grey hair tightly with your fingers.

"Marcus! I am going to- ow!"

"Isn't it too soon, my love?"

You looked down at his face and saw that he was grinning.

"No, I meant to say that I'm going to fall, not come.”

He pulled his head back, supported your back with one hand and lowered you down onto the edge of the tub. "I've been a bit busy, I must have misheard." He grinned again. Without getting out of the water, he pulled you closer and continued where he left off. He stuck his marvellous tongue out and licked your most sensitive spot. You gasped and hitched your legs around his head, drawing him closer. He rolled his tongue up and down as he used his hand to probe at your lower lips. His beard tickled you as your breathing quickened. Adrenaline flooded your body as your pulled on his hair, bringing him closer, as he sucked and consumed you mercilessly. You bucked into him and he responded in turn with a little nip. You threw your head back as you gasped once more, feeling like you were losing your mind. Shaking, sweating, your entire body pulsed with pleasure as you clamped your legs around him.

You moaned loudly. "I am definitely coming this time!"

"Come for me, my love. Let me taste you.”

And immediately after his command, you came with a loud moan. Marcus kissed your belly and grabbed you by the hips, pulling you into the water. He kissed you on the lips with great passion, you wrapped your arms around him. The water made everything a little slippery, but Marcus was determined to grip your hips roughly, puling you closer. You wrapped your legs firmly against his waist, feeling his need press against you in the most delicious way. You couldn't stop your moans with each and every thrust and neither could he, and you began to feel him deeply inside you, he thrust deeper and deeper, pushing you both closer and closer to the edge. He grabbed your hair, gathering behind the nape of your neck and pulling your face closer, claiming your mouth with his teeth and imploring tongue. And you came for him once more, moaning into his mouth. He then reached his climax right after with a groan.

Breathing heavily, you slumped in the tub, he was holding you close, kissing your chin then beneath your ear. You listened to the peaceful sound of water echoing off the damp walls until your breathing calmed. Without pulling out, he wrapped his arms around you and you rested your head on his shoulder. Once your both breathing and racing hearts had calmed, he stood up and led you out of the tub too.

On the following day, the capital of Rome was on the brink of witnessing one of the most momentous days in its history. The Council's decision, Geta's proclaiming absolute emperorship to the entire populace, was followed by the announcement of the execution of the traitor Macrinus and his supporters in the Colosseum.  As the sun reached its zenith, people were making their way towards the colossal structure, engaged in quiet conversation.

The emperor's carriage soon arrived near the Colosseum, where the people greeted Geta with great enthusiasm. You and Marcus were in the other carriage, which you got out of together and waved to the people who were cheering your name. The trumpets were blown, and as you walked towards the Imperial tribune, the announcer called out Geta's name. Everyone stood up and cheered him enthusiastically.

“Caesar! Caesar! Caesar! Caesar!”

Geta raised his hands and gave them the salute, then turned to you and held out his hand. And then they announced your name. You took Geta's hand and stood next to him.

"Princess Aurelia!"

The crowd clapped and cheered even more enthusiastically. You placed your right hand on your chest and saluted the crowd. It was then time for Marcus's name to be announced.

“General Marcus Justus Acacius!”

The crowd roared his name over and over.

“Acacius! Acacius! Acacius! Acacius!”

Marcus gave them a smile and a salute in return. Caracalla's seat has been removed and two seats have been added on either side of the emperor, as per his orders. At Geta's gesture, you took the seat next to him, and Marcus sat next to you.

And the trumpets sounded again. The announcer cut them off and carried on:

"For his treachery against the life of the Emperor and the Roman Empire, Marcus Opellius Macrinus is declared an enemy of the people. He has been stripped of his membership of the Senate and all those who aided and abetted him will bring to the arena in chains today, to face judgement, your judgement, people of Rome!"

When the iron gate sprung open, Macrinus and his supporters were brought into the middle of the arena in chains. The crowd booed them.

"Traitor! Traitor! Traitor! Traitor!"

The Announcer called the crowd to silence, listed his crimes one by one, which Macrinus replied with a smug smile.

Crowded roared. “Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!”

Geta stood up and went over to the balustrade. But then he glanced back at you and beckoned you over. You looked at Marcus and stood up, grabbing his hand and pulling him along with you. He didn’t resist and followed you.

"What do you think, sister? Mercy?"

All three of you were looking at Macrinus. Julia, who was watching you from behind, seemed angry with Geta for not calling her mother to his side. She crossed her arms and made a face.

Looking at Macrinus from a distance, you shook your head. "No mercy." You said firmly.

Geta smiled and looked at Marcus. "Acacius?"

"Having mercy on the traitor is a betrayal to the innocent!" Said Marcus without taking his eyes off Macrinus. You smiled and held his hand, he was so right.

Geta put his arms up. "The gods have spoken!" And then he lowered both hands down. The executioner nodded and separated Macrinus's head from his body in a single stroke.

The crowd cheered. It was the first time you'd ever felt so relieved that a man was dead. Marcus let out a deep sigh, feeling the same way. When it was the turn of the other traitors, they shared Macrinus' fate too. Marcus leaned towards Geta. "Speak to your people, Your Majesty, show that you are a true emperor. They need it."

Geta looked at him, then nodded. He took a deep breath.

"The people of Rome! I promise you that from now on I will restore Rome to its rightful glory! During my reign, there will no longer be any Romans who are hungry or poor. I pledge that no Roman rights will be infringed upon, and that all will enjoy equal conditions. I promise you, as your emperor, that I will strive to make Rome the greatest empire in the world!"

You and Marcus looked at each other as the crowd continued to cheer and applaud, their enthusiasm growing. This was precisely what you had hoped to hear. It seemed that the people were also pleased. You admired Geta's personal development and believed with all your heart that he would do what he promised.

Now it was time. It was time for you and your husband to return to your home in peace.

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[milla-frenchy]

So happy to read them again 😍😍

You lay on the couch, the blanket Joel brought you tucked snugly beneath your chin, feeling the comforting weight of it. The soft fabric smells faintly like him—like the dust and leather of the ranch, with a hint of something deeper you can't quite place. Your body aches from the injury, a constant reminder of your fragility, but the blanket is a small luxury, an oasis of warmth amid the discomfort.

This is so beautiful and vivid 😍😍

There’s something reassuring about having everything within arm's reach, a reminder that you still have some control, some autonomy, even if your body doesn’t quite feel like your own right now.

I loved all of this. Reading her emotions, feeling them. Poor baby 😥

"What’s her name?" you ask gently, your voice soft but steady. You’re careful, wanting to open the door without forcing him through it.

omg this is beautiful. I love how careful she is

"Named after my grandmother. She is—" His voice catches, the present tense faltering mid-sentence like a misstep on uneven ground. "She was a special kid."

I didn't plan to have my heart broken on a wednesday afternoon after work oh nooooo 😥😥😥

"S’been tough," he admits, his voice low, almost a murmur. "But you find a way to keep goin’. Life doesn’t stop, even when you wish it would."

And this?! This hurts so much, and, it's so true...

When he finally releases your hand, moving his arm slightly,  the warmth of his skin lingers, a quiet reminder of the moment you’ve shared. "Thank you darlin’," he says again, his voice steady but soft. There’s something in his eyes now—something lighter, as if the act of sharing, of being heard, has eased the weight he carries, if only a little. "Means more than you know."

❤️❤️❤️ I love this so much

And then he’s gone. You stare at the ceiling, your heart heavy with regret, the words you wish you’d said echoing in your mind. "Stay. Please stay." But you didn’t. Instead, you let him walk away, the distance between you growing not just physically but emotionally.

Why didn't youuuuuuuu 😭😭😭

"I... I don’t know how to do this," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Letting someone—letting you—"    "You don’t have to know," he says quietly. "You just gotta let me in."  

omg what? 😍😍😍 Odiiiiii you have me on an emotional roller coaster what are you doing to meeeeeeee

“Should’ve just stayed downstairs, fuck sakes,” he mutters to himself.

uuuuuh you're really trying to kill me here

Joel steps closer, his fists clenched at his sides. “You think this is about you bein’ a burden? Dammit, I don’t care about that! I care about you not gettin’ yourself killed because you’re too damn stubborn to listen!”

I ALWAYS love when Joel tells someone they're stubborn. I always cackle, cause LOOK WHO'S TALKING, SIR 😂😂😂

“I’ve been where you are,” he says, his voice low. “I’ve lost too much. And I’m not gonna lose anyone else... not like this.”

Damn. Speechless. Odi if I catch you!!! (I'm gonna send you a lot of gifs to take revenge 😌😏)

Howdy Honey II. Beautiful Mess

Series Masterlist * Masterlist * Wordcount 6.6K

Summary: Joel grapples with his frustration and fear after you push him away

Warnings: the fluff before the smut! Some angst and mentions of loss

Notes: Thank you for the long wait for this chapter. Getting back into it with these two has been so much fun! I am very excited for the next chapter heheh. I can foresee three more chapters, which I will hopefully have out at a decent pace. Ty @evolnoomym for reading this over ♏️🌙

You

The first rays of morning light filter through the gauzy curtains, casting a warm glow across the living room. The ranch outside is waking up, the sounds of hooves and rustling hay mingling with the birds' early songs, but inside, there is a stillness. The air is cool, soft, and peaceful before the day fully begins. You lay on the couch, the blanket Joel brought you tucked snugly beneath your chin, feeling the comforting weight of it. The soft fabric smells faintly like him—like the dust and leather of the ranch, with a hint of something deeper you can't quite place. Your body aches from the injury, a constant reminder of your fragility, but the blanket is a small luxury, an oasis of warmth amid the discomfort.

The potted plant in the corner catches your eye as its leaves flutter in the breeze coming through the open window. The subtle movement is a welcome distraction, drawing your focus away from the twinges of pain in your side, from the dull ache that’s become your constant companion. It's not the worst pain you’ve felt in your life, but right now, in the stillness of the room, it feels like the only thing that matters. You wish you were in your own bed, in the comfort of your familiar space. You can almost picture it—your room upstairs, the soft quilts, the shelves filled with books you've collected over the years. But the reality of your situation makes that impossible. The mere thought of climbing the stairs sends another sharp wave of pain through your body, reminding you that independence is a luxury right now, not a reality. You’ve always been fiercely independent—too proud, maybe, to admit when you need help. The idea of relying on Joel, especially now, when every moment around him seems to stir something inside you, feels almost too much to bear. When you were healthy, those stairs were nothing. You could run up them without thinking twice, bounding up two steps at a time. Now, the idea of even attempting it is enough to make your chest tighten, a reminder that things have changed. You can’t ignore it.

Joel has offered more than once to carry you up to your room, insisting that you’d be more comfortable in your own bed. But each time, you've turned him down. It’s not because you don’t trust him. You know he’s kind, that he genuinely wants to help, but the thought of him lifting you, of feeling his strong arms around you... it stirs something in you—something complicated. It's not just physical pain you need to recover from. There’s a tangle of emotions you can't unravel yet, especially not with Joel so close. Instead, you remain on the couch in the living room, finding comfort in its familiar layout. The space is small, but it feels like everything you need is within reach. The kitchen is just a few steps away, and the thought of being able to grab something to eat or drink without too much effort is a small but significant source of relief. You don't have to ask anyone for help every time you need something. The books and movies you've scattered around the room are close enough that you can slip into another world with little more than a turn of your hand. There’s something reassuring about having everything within arm's reach, a reminder that you still have some control, some autonomy, even if your body doesn’t quite feel like your own right now.

But perhaps the most comforting part of this setup is Joel—always nearby. You know he’s there, moving around the ranch just out of sight, yet still within earshot. You can hear the faint sounds of him tending to the animals, the creak of the barn doors, the rustle of hay and boots on the dirt. It's not quite company, but it's enough. If something were to go wrong—if the pain in your side flared up again or you needed assistance in a way you couldn’t manage—Joel would be there in an instant. The thought of him close by, ready to step in, is both a comfort and a quiet reminder of how much you rely on him these days. You tell yourself that you don’t need him, but there's an undeniable warmth that settles in your chest knowing he’s just a room away. Still, the idea of needing help from him, especially in such a vulnerable state, stirs something deeper in you. Something that makes your heart flutter unexpectedly, a feeling that you can’t quite define. It’s easier this way—on the couch, within your little bubble of semi-independence, where your emotions can stay tucked away, just like the soft blanket Joel brought you.

You glance over at the cover of one of his daughter’s western novels, the title catching your eye. There's something about it that piques your curiosity, stirring questions you hadn’t meant to ask. Who is she, this daughter of his? Was she older? And then, the question that sits uncomfortably in your mind: Is Joel married—or was he? You’ve never seen a wedding band on his finger, never heard him speak about a wife. The mystery about him lingers, unresolved. You know you should be resting, but your mind refuses to settle. You shift slightly, adjusting the blanket as you try to distract yourself. Your eyes drift back to the book on the table—a well-worn copy of Lonesome Dove, its spine cracked and pages dog-eared. Something about the worn edges calls to you. It's a link to the world you grew up in, a reminder of the ranch life, of the toughness and independence that runs through your veins. You never could quite leave the ranch, even when you tried. You reach for the book, your fingers brushing against the paper's texture, the act of holding it feeling almost like coming home. You open the cover to the first page, the familiar scent of ink and aged paper filling your senses. As you dive into the world of Gus McCrae and Woodrow Call, the stories of cowboys and cattle drives pull you in. You’re captivated by Gus and Woodrow—two men bound by their pasts but so different in their approach to life.

As you read, you find yourself identifying with Lorena Wood, Gus's girlfriend. Her fight for her place in the world, her refusal to let others define her, resonates with you deeply. The scene where she insists on joining the cattle drive despite the objections of the men speaks to something inside you. The words, “I ain’t afraid of a little hard work,” echo in your mind, a mantra of defiance that you wish you could adopt fully. You can’t be weak. You won’t be.

"Dreamin’ is free, Lorena," Gus says to her, his voice a mix of wisdom and weariness. "It don’t cost nothin' extra to dream good dreams."

The words settle over you, and for a moment, you close your eyes. You think of Joel—his gruffness, his strength, the way he moves through the ranch with a quiet intensity. He’s always there, a steady presence in your life. You can’t help but wonder what kind of man he was before, what dreams he once had, what kind of life he led. Your thoughts drift, pulled back into the story before you can get too lost in them. The sun climbs higher in the sky, its light streaming through the windows, warm now, settling into the room. You glance at the book beside you and set it aside with a small sense of pride. You've made it through several chapters without letting your mind wander too much.

Your side aches more now from sitting too long, and you know it’s time to try standing. It’s been too long since you felt any sense of control over your own body. You push the blanket back, and slowly, you swing your legs over the side of the couch. The room tilts slightly as you plant your feet on the floor, and you take a steadying breath, trying to ignore the sharp twinge in your side. You hate this. Hate feeling weak. Hate needing help. But you can’t let that stop you. You refuse to let it define you. You're determined to regain some independence, to show Joel that you're not just some fragile thing that needs constant watching over.

You push yourself up, wincing as another wave of pain stabs through your ribs. The movement is slow, deliberate. Each step feels like an accomplishment, even as the pain pulses beneath the surface. You make it to the kitchen, though you're panting by the time you reach the counter. You grip it for support, feeling the cool edge beneath your fingertips. The simple act of pouring yourself a glass of water feels like a triumph.

Then you hear the creak of the front door. You don’t have to look to know it’s Joel. The sound of his boots on the floor, the low murmur of his voice as he moves about the ranch—it's all so familiar now. You hear him pause, then step into the kitchen. His eyes widen when he sees you standing there, gripping the counter like it’s your lifeline.

"Well, look at you," he says, a note of surprise and admiration in his voice. "You're up and about."

You offer him a small, self-conscious smile, glad he’s not rushing to fuss over you. "I thought it was time," you say softly, setting the glass of water down with careful movements. "I can't just lie on the couch all day."

Joel chuckles, his gaze sweeping over you with that same intensity that sends a warm flutter through your chest. He steps closer, cautious. "Reckon not," he agrees, voice low. His eyes linger on you, and you can't tell if it's concern or something else. "But don’t go pushin’ yourself too hard now."

"I’m fine," you insist, a little too quickly. "But you look like you’ve been at it all morning. Would you like something to drink?" You try to sound casual, but the offer feels like an excuse to keep him there, a way to ease the tension building between you.

"S’alright, I can get it," he says, but his voice is strained, tired. He wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, a visible sign of the work he's been doing.

Before he can protest, you start toward the fridge. "Shut up," you say with a teasing smile. "I got it. Iced tea, right?"

He chuckles softly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "That’d be perfect, darlin’."

The fridge door opens with a soft creak, and you pour the tea, the cool liquid filling the glass with a satisfying sound. The simple act requires more focus than it should, but you take your time, savoring the moment of normalcy. You hand him the glass, your fingers brushing his ever so briefly. The touch is light, fleeting, but it sends an unexpected jolt through you, a spark that neither of you can ignore. For a moment, you both stand there, neither of you speaking, as if waiting for something to break the silence. His gaze flickers to the floor, then back to you, and he clears his throat, taking a small step back.

"Thanks," he says, his voice steady but low, and his eyes meet yours briefly before he raises the glass in a small salute. He drinks deeply, closing his eyes as the cool tea washes over him.

"You're welcome," you reply, your voice quieter than usual. You busy yourself with straightening up the kitchen, your hands shaking slightly as you try to ground yourself in the mundane. But even in the simple act of tidying, you can feel his gaze on you, the weight of it making you feel exposed in a way you can't quite understand.

"You’ve found some use for the blanket and books, I see," Joel says, his voice soft, but you catch the hint of something more in it, something like pride.

"They've been a good distraction," you answer, a little more casually than you feel. "I'm curious about your daughter’s books. She’s got good taste."

At the mention of his daughter, Joel’s face softens, a wistful look crossing his features. "She always did love a good story," he says, his voice quiet, distant. "Used to read to her every night when she was little. We'd get lost in all sorts of adventures together.”

The conversation takes a quiet but significant turn, pulling you both into uncharted emotional territory. You sense it the moment Joel’s expression softens at your question, his guarded demeanor cracking just enough to let a sliver of vulnerability through. It feels fragile, like holding a bird in your hands, its rapid heartbeat thrumming beneath your fingers. You tread carefully, hoping not to press too hard but unwilling to let the moment pass unacknowledged. "What’s her name?" you ask gently, your voice soft but steady. You’re careful, wanting to open the door without forcing him through it.

He hesitates for just a breath before answering, his lips curving into a small, wistful smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "Sarah," he says, his voice tinged with warmth and something deeper—something bittersweet. "Named after my grandmother. She is—" His voice catches, the present tense faltering mid-sentence like a misstep on uneven ground. "She was a special kid."

The weight of that single word, was, hangs in the air between you like a stone dropped into still water, sending ripples of meaning outward. It cuts through the small warmth his smile brought, replacing it with a heaviness that settles deep in your chest. Your heart clenches, the realization landing like a blow. You try to keep your voice steady, though your stomach twists. "Was?" you venture cautiously, the single syllable feeling heavier than it should.

Joel’s expression shifts immediately—his jaw tightening, his eyes narrowing just slightly as if bracing for an impact. You see the pain flash through him, raw and unguarded, before he wrestles it back under control. For a moment, you think he won’t answer, that he’ll shut you out completely. But then he takes a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling with the effort, and when he speaks, his voice is quiet and steady, though it trembles at the edges. "Sarah passed away a few years back." The words are spoken simply, but their weight is unmistakable, each syllable heavy with grief he’s learned to carry in silence.

The room feels smaller suddenly, the air thinner. You struggle to find something to say, some way to acknowledge the enormity of what he’s shared without reducing it to a hollow platitude. "Joel, I’m so sorry," you finally manage, your voice barely above a whisper. The sincerity in your words is palpable, your own troubles momentarily forgotten in the face of his loss.

Joel nods, his gaze distant, focused on something you can’t see. He doesn’t brush off your condolences or wave them away as you might have expected. Instead, he accepts them with a quiet grace that’s heartbreaking in its simplicity. "S’been tough," he admits, his voice low, almost a murmur. "But you find a way to keep goin’. Life doesn’t stop, even when you wish it would."

His words linger in the air, stark and unvarnished, and you feel the ache in them like a bruise pressed too hard. There’s no bitterness in his tone, no anger—just a quiet resignation, a weariness that feels like it’s etched into his very being. You wonder how often he’s spoken these words, if at all, or if he’s kept them locked away until now. Your gaze drifts to his hands—strong, calloused, and steady even now, despite the weight he carries. You reach out before you can think better of it, your fingers brushing against his forearm in a gesture that feels both small and monumental. "I can’t imagine," you say softly, your words feeling inadequate but heartfelt. "I’m sorry you had to go through that."

Joel looks down at your hand, his gaze lingering there for a moment before he lifts his eyes to meet yours. There’s something in his expression that makes your breath catch—a flicker of gratitude, of recognition, and something else you can’t quite name. "Thank you," he says simply, his voice rough but sincere. He shifts slightly, covering your hand with his own. The warmth of his touch is startling, grounding, and you’re acutely aware of how solid he feels, how present. "For listening," he continues, his voice softening. "I don’t... I don’t talk about Sarah much. It’s hard, you know?" His eyes hold yours, and you see the weight of the years he’s carried this pain, the quiet strength it’s taken to keep moving forward.

You nod, unable to look away. "I think you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for," you say quietly, the words slipping out before you can second-guess them. "Just... holding onto her memory like that. Letting her still be a part of you."

His brow furrows slightly, his gaze searching yours as if he’s trying to decide whether to accept your words. "Don’t feel strong most days," he admits after a pause, his voice so low you almost miss it. "Just feel tired."

The honesty in his words makes your chest tighten, and you press your hand against his arm just a little more firmly, as if to anchor him. "Maybe that’s what strength is," you offer, your voice soft but unwavering. "Getting up every day, even when it feels impossible. Carrying her with you, even when it hurts."

Joel doesn’t respond immediately, but you see something shift in his expression—something almost imperceptible but deeply significant. He exhales slowly, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction, and when he finally speaks, his voice is quieter than before. "Maybe," he murmurs, the word more of a concession than a conviction.For a long moment, neither of you says anything. The silence is heavy but not uncomfortable, filled with the weight of everything left unsaid. You let it linger, sensing that Joel needs this space, this moment of quiet connection. When he finally releases your hand, moving his arm slightly,  the warmth of his skin lingers, a quiet reminder of the moment you’ve shared. "Thank you darlin’," he says again, his voice steady but soft. There’s something in his eyes now—something lighter, as if the act of sharing, of being heard, has eased the weight he carries, if only a little. "Means more than you know."

—-------

As you prepare to settle onto the couch for the night, the creak of the wooden floor under Joel’s boots pulls your attention. Before you can process what’s happening, he’s beside you, scooping you into his arms like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The warmth of his hands against you and the solid strength of his hold leave you momentarily breathless.

"What are you doing?" you protest weakly, though your body betrays you by instinctively wrapping an arm around his shoulders for balance.

He doesn’t stop moving, his tone gruff but resolute. "Takin’ you to your room. You’ll be more comfortable there, and it’s about time you used it again." You start to protest again, murmuring something about being too heavy, but he only huffs. "You think this is the first time I’ve carried someone? You’re fine. Quit fussin’."

Before you know it, he’s carrying you up the stairs, each step steady and sure despite the burden you’re sure you must be. The faint scent of leather and woodsmoke clings to him, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected. When he reaches the top, the hallway stretches ahead, dimly lit and quiet except for the faint creak of the floorboards beneath his boots.

Your bedroom door creaks as he nudges it open with his foot. The room feels foreign, almost untouched since your injuries—a time capsule of your life before everything fell apart. Joel sets you down on the bed with a gentleness that belies his rough exterior, his hands lingering briefly to ensure you’re steady before he pulls away.

"There," he says, adjusting the covers around you with meticulous care that makes your chest ache. "Now you get some rest. I’ll be right downstairs if you need anything."

You watch him turn, the broad slope of his shoulders framed by the faint hallway light. A sudden unease wells up in your chest, irrational and overwhelming. The thought of being alone in this room, in this moment, feels unbearable. The words leave your lips before you can stop them.

"Joel, wait."

He stops in the doorway, his silhouette pausing against the light. "What is it, darlin’?" His voice is calm, but there’s an edge of concern beneath it.

Your fingers grip the edge of the blanket as you force yourself to speak. "Could you... stay? Just for a little while. Until I fall asleep."

For a moment, he’s quiet, the furrow of his brow barely visible in the shadows. He looks at you like he’s weighing something heavy, something he’s not sure he can carry. But then he nods, his voice softer when he speaks. "Yeah. I can do that."

He grabs a chair from the corner of the room, pulling it close to the bed and settling into it with a quiet sigh. The room feels smaller now, his presence filling the space in a way that should be comforting, and yet... you feel the weight of it pressing against you.

Joel sits silently, his hands resting on his knees, the flickering light from the bedside lamp casting deep shadows across his face. His gaze flicks toward you occasionally, careful and guarded, as if afraid to linger too long. You watch him through half-closed eyes, noting the subtle lines etched into his features—lines of exhaustion, loss, and something else you can’t quite place. There’s a tension in his posture, a quiet restraint that makes your chest tighten.

"Joel," you say softly, the quiet sound of his name pulling his gaze to yours. He raises an eyebrow, waiting, but the words you wanted to say catch in your throat. What could you even say? Thank him for his kindness? For caring when you’d tried so hard to convince yourself you didn’t need it. Instead, you settle on something you instantly regret. "You don’t have to stay, you know. I’ll be fine."

His expression shifts, the corners of his mouth tightening ever so slightly. For a moment, he doesn’t respond, but when he does, his voice is quieter, almost unreadable. "If that’s what you want."

You open your mouth to correct yourself, to say something that might soften the blow, but the words don’t come. Joel stands, his movements slow and deliberate, as if giving you time to change your mind. You don’t.

"Goodnight, then," he says, his tone even, though there’s a weight behind the words that you can’t ignore. Joel stands, the chair groaning slightly as he pushes it back. He doesn’t move hurriedly, but there’s a deliberateness in his movements that makes your chest tighten. The air between you feels heavier, laced with something unspoken, something you’re not ready to name. And then he’s gone. You stare at the ceiling, your heart heavy with regret, the words you wish you’d said echoing in your mind.

"Stay. Please stay."

But you didn’t. Instead, you let him walk away, the distance between you growing not just physically but emotionally. The warmth of his presence lingers faintly, like the scent of his leather and woodsmoke, but it isn’t enough to fill the void. The ache in your ribs pales in comparison to the one in your chest. You lay there, staring at the ceiling, what was this feeling that had taken root inside you? It wasn’t just gratitude anymore—it was something else, something harder to define. You’d always prided yourself on not needing anyone, but Joel had a way of making that wall crumble, brick by brick. It was confusing. Maybe you were reading too much into it. Or maybe... maybe you were just afraid to hope again. But the way he’d left, the quiet disappointment in his eyes—it made you feel small, stupid even. What were you so afraid of? You hated yourself for pushing him away when all he’d ever done was try to be there for you. But it was too late now. The door was closed, and so, it seemed, was he.

The room is dark, save for the faint glow of the moonlight spilling in through the curtains. You hadn’t noticed Joel still standing there, silent as a shadow. He lingers by the doorway, his silhouette sharp against the dim light. He’s watching you, his brow furrowed, torn between staying and leaving.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” he mutters, more to himself than you.

You turn your head slightly, startled. You thought he'd left. His gaze meets yours for a moment, but the weight of it is too much to hold. You look away, biting the inside of your cheek. “I’m fine,” you say, your voice tight and unconvincing.

Joel lets out a low scoff, shaking his head. “Fine,” he repeats bitterly. “That your favorite word or somethin’?” His boots barely make a sound as he crosses the room, sitting back down on the chair beside your bed. His presence is overwhelming, filling the small space like a storm cloud about to break. You feel the heat of him, as you try to keep your breathing steady. “I know what you're doin',” he says quietly, his tone softer now. “Pushin' me away. But you don’t have to.”

You close your eyes, willing the tears to stay put. His words are gentle, but they cut deep, peeling back the layers you worked so hard to hide behind. You struggle for words, your breath uneven. "I... I don’t know how to do this," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Letting someone—letting you—"  

 "You don’t have to know," he says quietly. "You just gotta let me in."  

His voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it now, like he's fighting against his own limits, his patience fraying. You want to reach for him, to let yourself lean into him, but the weight of your own walls is too heavy. You want to let go, but something inside you holds you back, paralyzes you with fear. Fear of what letting him in might mean. Your throat tightens as you try to form the words, but nothing comes. His gaze sharpens, but he doesn’t push you—he waits. The tension hangs thick in the air, heavy with unspoken thoughts. But the longer he waits, the more it seems like he’s losing the battle inside himself.

You finally meet his eyes again, but it’s like something’s shifted. There’s still care there, but it’s mixed with frustration, something raw and real. He stands, his movements slow but resolute. "You can’t keep doing this," he says, his voice low but intense. "I can’t keep doing this. You want me to stay, and then... then you push me away.”

His words strike you like a physical blow, the sting of truth cutting through the silence. You don’t know what to say, your heart pounding in your chest, but nothing feels right. The space between you is growing, and you’re helpless to stop it.

The chair scrapes against the floor as he moves it back, the sound harsh in the heavy silence. His words strike you like a physical blow, the sting of truth cutting through the silence. You don’t know what to say, your heart pounding in your chest, but nothing feels right. The space between you is growing, and you’re helpless to stop it. 

He moves toward the door, the floor creaking beneath his boots, and you want to scream—to tell him to stay, to tell him you’re not fine, but the words are lodged in your throat, like you’re choking on your own fear.

You sit up in bed, your breath shallow, but you don’t call out. You don’t stop him.

Joel pauses at the doorway, his back to you. For a long moment, it seems like he might turn around, like he might say something else, something to bridge the gap between you. But he doesn’t. He just stands there, his shoulders stiff, his head slightly bowed as though he’s already made his peace with walking away.

Finally, his voice breaks the silence. "You need anything, you holler. I’ll hear ya."

And then the door clicks softly shut behind him.

You sit there, staring at the empty space where he was, the weight of his words still pressing down on you. Your fingers curl around the blanket, but it offers no comfort. Your mind races, a mess of emotions, regret, and frustration. You want to call him back, but it feels like it’s too late.

The room is silent once more, and the emptiness is suffocating. You close your eyes, your chest aching, and for the first time in a long while, you realize how alone you truly are..

Joel

The soft glow of the kitchen light spills across the empty room as Joel leans against the counter, nursing a cup of coffee he doesn’t really want or need at this hour. He stares into the dark liquid, his thoughts elsewhere, running over the events of the evening like a song stuck on repeat.

He shouldn’t feel disappointed. You’d made it clear you didn’t want him there, and he respected that. Hell, he’d been in your shoes before—pushing people away because it felt safer. He couldn’t blame you for it. But that didn’t make the sting of it any easier to shake.

Joel sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. He’d seen the hesitation in your eyes, the conflict. He’d wanted to tell you it was okay, that he’d wait as long as you needed. But the truth was, he wasn’t sure how long he could wait. Every moment he spent with you, every quiet exchange and fleeting touch—it all felt like it was building toward something he wasn’t sure either of you were ready for. "Should’ve known better," he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible over the hum of the fridge. But even as he says it, he knows he’d do it all over again—because for you, he would wait.

The coffee in Joel’s mug has gone cold by the time he finally pushes himself off the counter and trudges to the living room. He sits heavily on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees as he stares at the darkened television screen. Sleep isn’t coming—not after the way the evening ended.

He rubs a hand down his face, trying to shake off the frustration welling in his chest. It wasn’t your fault, not really. Joel knows that better than anyone. But the way you’d looked at him, the way you’d pulled back, it felt like a door slamming shut in his face. Like he was stupid for even hoping.

“Should’ve just stayed downstairs, fuck sakes,” he mutters to himself. He knows better than to get too close, to expect anything. It’s not fair to you, not when you’ve got enough to deal with. And yet, here he is, hoping like a damn fool.

The faint creak of the floor above reminds him you’re still there, probably lying awake just like he is. Joel shakes his head, dragging a heavy quilt over himself as he stretches out on the couch. Tomorrow, he decides, he’ll keep his distance. Let you come to him if you want.

But the hollow ache in his chest says that might never happen.

—

The next morning the shutting of the door pulls Joel from a restless sleep. He stretches, his back protesting the hours spent on the couch, and grumbles as he sits up. The smell of coffee drifts through the house, but it’s faint—like someone turned the pot off before it finished brewing. Joel frowns. He knows you’re still stiff from your injuries, and the thought of you moving around too much sets him on edge. He stands, rubbing a hand over his face, and heads toward the kitchen.

The sight of the empty space only deepens his unease. The coffee pot is half-full, a mug sitting beside it untouched. He glances out the window, his gut twisting when he spots you trudging toward the barn, determination in every step.

“What the hell are you doin’ now?” he mutters, already grabbing his jacket as he steps outside.

The morning air bites at his skin, but Joel barely notices as he closes the distance to the barn. By the time he reaches the open doors, you’re already climbing onto the tractor, one hand on the seat and the other gripping the wheel.

“Hey!” Joel’s voice echoes sharply in the quiet.

You freeze, your head whipping around to face him. “What?” you ask, your voice defensive, though there’s a flicker of guilt in your eyes.

Joel’s chest tightens, but he doesn’t let it show. “What the hell do you think you’re doin’?”

Your brow furrows, and you straighten your shoulders, your stubbornness flaring to life. “I’m trying to help. You’ve been doing everything, and I thought—”

“You thought wrong.” His tone is sharper than he intends, but the sight of you on the tractor—the very image of Sarah in her last moments—sends a cold wave of fear crashing over him.

You bristle at his words, swinging your legs over the side of the tractor to face him fully. “Excuse me? I’m not a kid, Joel. I can handle this.”

“No, you can’t,” he snaps, his voice louder now. “You don’t even know how to work that damn thing, and you’re in no shape to be tryin’!”

Your eyes narrow, hurt flashing across your face before you mask it with anger. “I’m just trying to pull my weight, Joel. I’m not some burden you have to carry! And yes I can fucking drive the tractor.”

Joel steps closer, his fists clenched at his sides. “You think this is about you bein’ a burden? Dammit, I don’t care about that! I care about you not gettin’ yourself killed because you’re too damn stubborn to listen!”

The words hang in the air, heavy and sharp. Joel’s breathing is uneven, his chest rising and falling as he fights to keep the memories at bay. Sarah’s laughter, the hum of the tractor’s engine, the sickening sound of it tipping over—it’s all there, clawing at the edges of his mind.

But he doesn’t tell you. He can’t.

Instead, he swallows hard and steps back, his jaw tightening. “Just… don’t do this,” he says, his voice quieter but no less firm.

You stare at him, confusion and hurt written all over your face. “Why are you acting like this?” you ask, your tone softer now, but Joel shakes his head.

Joel’s chest tightens, and the fight in his voice only deepens. “Doesn’t matter,” he mutters, but you’re not about to let him brush this off.

“Why the hell not?” You step off the tractor, your foot hitting the ground with a thud, your breath a sharp inhale from the pain and ragged in the cold air. “You’re acting like I’m a damn liability—like I can’t handle myself. You think I want to sit around doing nothing while you work yourself to the bone?”

Joel shakes his head, his eyes dark with frustration. “That ain’t it, and you know it. You think I want to be overprotective? You think I don’t see you fightin’ through every goddamn thing just to prove you’re not weak? I get it, alright? But this—this isn’t the way to do it.”

“You don’t get it,” you snap back, your voice growing more desperate. “I don’t need your pity, Joel. I don’t need you to hold my hand or protect me like I’m some fragile thing you have to save. I’m fine. I can do this.”

“You’re not fine!” Joel’s voice cracks, his patience running thin, and the raw emotion behind it makes you pause, your anger faltering for just a second. He steps closer to you, his face inches away. “You’re not fine, and I’m not gonna sit here and watch you hurt yourself just because you’re too damn proud to accept help.”

Your ribs ache as you take a step back, your hands trembling at your sides. His words, his proximity—they feel like they’re suffocating you, pulling you into a place you don’t want to go. But you can’t stop yourself. “I don’t need help,” you mutter, though the words come out unconvincing, jagged.

Joel’s gaze softens, and for a brief moment, it’s like you’re both standing in some kind of fragile truce. But it doesn’t last. The distance between you, emotional and physical, feels too heavy to bear, and Joel moves in again. His voice is quieter now, but there’s a deep, aching sincerity in it. “I don’t want you to need help. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

You swallow hard, your chest tightening with something you don’t know how to name. It’s the space between your stubbornness and his care, the tension of wanting to push him away but knowing deep down that you can’t. You want to break, to let go, but you won’t—can’t—show him how much you’re falling apart.

You both stand there in the cold, the world around you feeling distant, like it’s no longer real. And then, before you can stop yourself, you say something that takes both of you by surprise. “Why do you care so damn much?” Your voice cracks as you finally let the wall down, the question raw and vulnerable.

Joel’s eyes darken, his breath catching at the depth of the question. He looks at you, really looks at you, and there’s a long silence that stretches between you, thick with everything unspoken. Then, his lips curl slightly, the ghost of a sad smile on his face, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“I’ve been where you are,” he says, his voice low. “I’ve lost too much. And I’m not gonna lose anyone else... not like this.”

You don’t know what to say to that. For a moment, your anger falters, replaced with something deeper, something you can’t hide anymore.

Before you realize what’s happening, you’re the one reaching for him, your good hand finding his shirt, pulling him toward you. He hesitates for a second—his body tense, unsure—but then he moves, just like you knew he would. The kiss is sudden, urgent, and the world tilts with it. Your ribs protest, but you don’t care. His hands cradle your face, his lips pressing against yours, rough but soft, like he’s trying to steady himself just as much as you are.

Your heart races in your chest, the ache in your ribs fading as the heat of him seeps into your skin. For a brief, fleeting moment, everything else stops. The fight, the stubbornness, the fear—it all disappears in the space between your mouths. It’s like he’s holding you together, like you’re finally letting him do the one thing he’s been begging you for - to let him in.

When you break away, it’s slow, your breath ragged, but neither of you moves far. You’re still close—too close—and yet, somehow, it feels right. Joel’s forehead rests against yours, his breath warm on your skin. He doesn’t speak at first, just keeps you there, close enough to feel the weight of his every breath. Finally, he whispers, his voice hoarse. “You’re not alone, you know that?”

You nod, the words too hard to say, but the truth of them sits heavy between you. And for the first time in what feels like forever, you believe it.

Taglist @akah565 @anoverwhelmingdin @brittmb115 @hannah9921 @maried01

@mermaidgirl30 @red-red-rogue @wintersquirrel

[mrsbarnesblog]

i am not the only one who saw that, right?

masterlist

summary: your friends find out that you secretly dating their enemy, but their opinion might completely change when they see Rafe from another point of view

words count: 2.2k

warnings: secret relationship, pogue!reader, attempted assault, mention of blood, soft and protective Rafe

a/n: inbox is open for requests💘

“You cannot be dating Rafe fucking Cameron, Y/N!” John B exclaimed, burying his hands in his hair and walking all around the place. 

“No, seriously, this is not a good idea.” Sarah looked at you, giving out a nervous laugh. 

You were currently surrounded by your friends, who were all practically yelling at you after they accidentally saw a message from Rafe on your phone. You were one of the pogues; you never hanged out around the kooks, but somehow, when you were visiting Sarah a few months ago, you got into a random conversation with Rafe, and since that moment, the connection between you two has only gotten stronger. 

It was an instant click and as much as you both tried to deny the spark, it was there. As you started going out, secretly from everyone, of course, you decided to keep it private until the right time. 

“Alright, guys, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I knew that this would be your reaction. It just happened, okay?” You rubbed the bridge of your nose, already feeling a headache from the tense situation. All of your friends were standing on the opposite side of you and it felt like they were just attacking you. 

“What were you thinking? You know that he hates people like us, like you. We are pogues, Y/N. How the hell did that even happen?” Kiara was standing with her hands on her hips, as her piercing eyes were studying you. You felt awful looking at Pope, who was the one who always supported you, but he just shook his head and stepped away. 

“I don’t know. It just happened. We talked once when Sarah left, then I accidentally met him a few times in town, and then he texted me. He’s not bad when you know him closer.” You sighed. “Look, I know Rafe was a lot of trouble for us. He did bad things; I know that. But he’s not like that; he’s sweet and caring, and he has never shown any sign of being disrespectful towards me. I just can’t deny my feelings for him.”

“Honey, Rafe is not a good person. He doesn’t care about anything or anyone; he’s evil, selfish and manipulative.” Sarah stepped closer to you, touching your hand. “He’ll play with you, hurt your feelings and just throw you away.”

“And he probably just wants to get into your pants.” JJ grumbled, also taking a defensive position. 

“I haven't even slept with him yet, JJ!” You desperately snapped at him. It felt ridiculous, like all of them turned against you at the same time. Sure, Rafe wasn’t the sweetest person to them before, but they didn’t even give you a chance to say something in your defense. “And you’re wrong too, Sarah. All of Rafe’s actions were just to get people’s attention and appreciation. All it took for me to get on his soft side was to just listen to him and give him some affection. Other people didn’t care enough, including you and your father. He needs someone who he can trust and open up to because he’s hurt.” 

“No, Y/N. If you think that he loves you, then he just got into your head. My brother doesn’t love anyone. It will end badly; I just know that.” 

Tears gathered in your eyes, and a lump in your throat made it difficult to say anything back, so you just stupidly stayed there. You had no strength to fight with all five of them at the same time. You turned around, silently getting back in the car, even though your head was filled with doubt and dark thoughts because of their words. 

For the next few days, it was tough for all of you. You and the rest of the group were still close, and even though they were completely against your relationship, you still met and hung out. The pit in your heart was still there, no matter how hard you tried to act nonchalant and not let their words get into your head. 

Rafe noticed the change in your behavior—that you were upset with something—but he didn’t put any pressure on you and allowed you to decide for yourself when you wanted to open up. 

Pogues decided to go to some party on the cut near the beach and as much as you tried to refuse, Sarah and Kiara managed to drag you there. You all rarely went to such places, preferring to hang out in your little circle, but apparently everyone wanted to clear their heads and saw it as the best opportunity. 

It was pretty fun with a bunch of people you did not know, some music, and drinks, and you mostly hung out with your friends. Though quickly it got overwhelming and made you want to go home or at least go outside of the house to get some fresh air. As you left your friends and wanted out from the backyard to a part of the beach, you didn’t notice the guy who had been eyeing you the whole evening. 

He came out of nowhere from your back, his arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off the ground. You yelled at the sudden and unwanted touch, and your heart seemed to drop into your stomach when you realised that it wasn’t just a joke from JJ, who liked to scare you. You started wiggling in his hands to get free, but he was fighting you back, dragging you up when you fell to your knees on the ground. 

It was such a mess trying to scratch and punch him that you almost did not notice his hand coming into contact with your face several times. You screamed again, this time loud enough, until you saw JJ running towards you. The guy behind you pushed you away as soon as he saw someone, and you fell to the ground with a loud huff. 

“That fucking bastard!” JJ was right near you, helping you to get up as tears streamed down your face. He tried to comfort you, checking your body for any injuries, but you pushed his hands away, wrapping your own around yourself in a defensive way.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” You heard Kiara, along with your other friends, calling your name. “What the hell happened?”

“H-he attacked me.” You sniffed, trying to catch your breath and, with shaking hands, reaching to the pocket of your jeans shorts to get out your phone. All of them looked at each other, questioning your actions, until you pressed someone’s contact button and put the phone to your ear. “Can y-you pick me up, p-please?” You sniffed again, now trembling from the adrenaline. 

“Baby? Are you crying? Where are you?” You heard your boyfriend’s concerned voice through the phone, feeling how JJ tensed beside you. 

“I’m on the cut. Near the beach. There’s a party and... Please, Rafe.” 

“I’m coming, angel. Just wait for me, ‘kay?” You heard the sound of the car engine at the other end of the line. Rafe didn’t ask any more questions, and as soon as you mumbled quiet 'mhm’ he ended the call. 

You all heard him before you saw him. The sound of the tires drifting through the sandy street was loud, drawing attention to the expensive car that was unusual to see at this part of the island. 

Rafe didn’t bother to properly park, turn off the engine or even close the door when he saw you sitting on some old chaise lounge, with his sister and Kie trying to talk to you and your other friends arguing nearby. 

The girls stepped away from you as soon as they saw Rafe running towards you with a furious expression on his face and ready to deal with anyone who made you cry. It looked like he didn’t even care about the pogues, with whom he always had to get into arguments; he was fully focused on your shivering form.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What happened?” He squatted down in front of you, and you started sobbing again. Your hands immediately found their place around his neck, and, before he could even properly look at your face, you pulled him closer to get some sense of comfort from his warmth and smell. Rafe hugged you back, soothingly rubbing your back. His eyes shot towards your friends, who were watching in awe at the interaction. “Which one of you did that?”

“It’s not us, you idiot. Some guy jumped her when she walked outside.” Sarah said, rolling her eyes at her brother. “JJ heard screaming, and when we walked outside, he ran away.” Rafe pulled away, finally taking in your appearance.

Your knees were covered in dried blood mixed with the sand. He gently took your hands to see the palms scratched from you trying to catch yourself before hitting the ground. Rafe’s eyes were burning with fury, showing his side that he rarely revealed in front of you. His hand reached to move your hair from your face, noticing a red, now already turning purplish, bruise covering the side of your cheek.

“Holy shit, sweetheart.” He softly brushed his fingertips along your cheek and you leaned into the touch, closing your eyes. Your bottom lip started quivering and you bit inside your cheek to calm yourself down. “Sh-h im here, okay? You’re safe. Did you see him? What did he look like? Just tell me and I’ll deal with it.” He almost begged, but you only shook your head. JJ suddenly stepped closer, slightly hesitating to actually normally communicate with his longtime enemy,  but he thought that it was the least that he could do for you.

As much as he hated The Kooks King, JJ knew that Rafe was the best option to find the guy who hurt you. 

“Tall, with dark and curly hair. Never seen him before, probably someone new on the island, but I’ll recognize him.” They looked at each other for a moment, and Rafe just simply nodded, turning his attention back to you. 

“I’ll find him, ‘kay? I promise I will.” He gently took both of your hands in his, bringing them to his lips to place a soft kiss on your knuckles. “We should go now. I need to take care of your knees and that bruise, baby. You don’t mind going to Tanneyhill, yeah?”

“Thank you, Rafe.” You whispered, slightly bending forward to ask for a kiss. Rafe smiled at you, his thumbs gently swiped the leftovers of the tears under your eyes, and then he kissed you on your forehead, nose, and gently pecked your lips. 

Your heart flattered at his soft touches and for a second, it felt like you two were in your own little bubble. Rafe's eyes shimmered slightly in the moonlight, and the way he looked at you, soft and caring, made you want to kiss him again and again. You suddenly snapped out of the trance, looking back at your friends, who all had different levels of shock and uncertainty written on their faces. 

“C’mon, pretty girl.” Rafe stood up, lifting you in bridal style without an effort, carefully not to hurt your bleeding knees. He almost walked away, but then sighed, turning back to look at his sister. “You coming home with us or somethin’?”

“Um, no, I’ll be with John B. It seems like I would be third wheeling with you anyway.” She shrugged, not being able to keep a smile when you two met with your eyes. 

Rafe then looked at JJ, thinking his words over. “I appreciate it, Maybank.” 

They exchanged a tight nod, both slightly shocked that for the first time ever, they communicated without biting each other's heads off. You leaned closer to Rafe, comfortably nestling in his protective hands, and looked at your friends, who were still too shocked to say anything. 

“I’ll see you guys later, okay? 

Everyone agreed, saying goodbye to you and asking you to text them when you get there safely. They saw how Rafe made sure to slowly put you into the passenger seat, then circled the car and drove away. An awkward silence fell around them, everyone at a loss for words. 

“Okay, so I am not the only one who saw that, right?” Pope spoke first, looking around the place as if he were trying to find something. “Rafe freaking Cameron just was acting cute and didn’t threaten to do something to us?” His own body physically shrugged at the word ‘cute’.

“I don’t know, dude. We all just probably drank something and it’s messing with our heads.” 

[sunflowersteves]

um so getting fucked by logan in public place...i mean getting fucked by logan-

(please know the way i'm salivating over this man is downright sinful.)

author's note || babes,,, i feel u. this man is in my dreams 24/7. i lov u for requesting this <3

summary || basically, you defend Logan and he quite literally goes feral.

warnings || fluff, some angst, anti-mutant rhetoric, SMUT [minors dni], P in V sex, praise kink, public-sex, desperation

Logan was used to being alone. It was second nature for him to blend into a crowd and survey the bustling fullness of the night. Usually, he hightailed to the back of the bar, his eyes studying carefully while he nursed the beer in his hand. 

When Logan met you, though, some things changed a bit. Instead of being at the back of the bar, he usually sat right next to you. While he wasn’t much for PDA and often abstained from it, he still let the hardness of his thigh rest against yours. It was such a simple touch, but you knew how much Logan needed to breathe in your presence. It soothed him. 

Tonight was like any other Friday night. You both wanted to go to the bar for a little bit of fun before another mission killed the atmosphere. Logan usually has a beer in his hand and his other subtly resting against your back. His eyes would bore into yours as he watched you talk about your day. It was always something he looked forward to. The ways that your eyes would sparkle underneath the illuminating bar lights. 

The bar was packed tonight, though. Bodies were practically on top of one another—playing pool, dancing to the stereo, or attempting to chat up someone to take home. Your idea to go to the bar had not just been your own. You could hear Logan’s heartbeat race as someone kept bumping into him—despite the very menacing aura rolling off of him. 

So, in response, you were currently nursing a whiskey all by your lonesome. It wasn’t that you were lonesome, it was much of the opposite. Logan had stepped out of the bar for a quick smoke, wanting to calm the nerves that pricked his skin. Logan needed a breather. He never wanted to leave you by yourself—although he knew you were completely fine. He just didn’t want to. You smiled at him with one of those breathtaking ones that caught his breath. 

“Go. I’ll still be here.” You whispered. God, he loved you. It was so evident, yet the years of having a broken heart shattered his ideas of loving someone again. The pain was etched across his chest, back, organs—everything. Add the number of people surrounding him, caging him in had reached an overwhelming capacity. So, he stepped out toward the back and dragged his cigar across his lips. He let the nicotine softly quiet the aches in his chest. 

You sipped the bitter taste of Jim Beam, your body almost shuddering at the hot feeling of liquor going down your throat. You felt the buzz already—not having much of anything to eat despite Logan asking if you had eaten. He handed you a granola bar in the car. He already knew the answer to his question. During a heated discussion with Scott, you had completely forgotten to eat some lunch. 

Logan was as caring as always—rubbing a hand across your wrist to ask if you had anything to eat today. However, your thoughts of him were screeched to a halt from a presence coming straight toward you. 

“Where’d the big guy go?”

Your eyebrow quirks up at the sensation of a tall silhouette behind you. You didn’t respond, though. You and Logan were used to the comments—usually, fans wanting pictures with the well-known X-men. Those you didn’t mind. Men like these, though? The ones that taunt you for your differences, the ones that make your skin itch.

“C’mon. That mutant scum isn’t here anymore. No need to act so tough.” 

You huffed out of your nose in disgust. There was a sizzle underneath your chest that made you want to scream in anger. You held your ground, though, knowing that it wouldn’t help very much. You knew men like these. Any use of your powers could end up with a call to the police and another article about how “violent” mutants are.

Although, not budging made the stranger even more pissed than he was. “You’re too pretty to be with a beast like him. Didn’t you hear, anyway?” This man just wouldn’t stop fucking talking. “The Wolverine hurts anything he touches. He’s a fuck up. A low life. A fucking animal—” 

Now that comment is what made you turn your head. You had heard enough before you slammed your glass on the bar counter. The man beside you jumped in surprise. A scowl on your lips, nostrils flared. “What the fuck did you just say?” 

Logan’s eyebrows twitched as he heard the snarl in your voice. He burnt out the cigar on his skin—slightly wincing at the sizzle of his skin. Worry surged through his chest at the mere idea of your discomfort. A primal need to protect the thing he loves was fogging his brain. The leather of his jacket was straining against the bulge of his muscles as he sauntered back through the bar. His shoulders were taunted back, surveying the bar as everyone’s head turned to you and some guy. 

His eyes widened at the sight before him. You had bunched the collar of the man, lifting him off the floor. Your eyes were wild with anger, your teeth clenched tightly as you spoke to the stranger. “If you ever talk about the Wolverine like that again, I’m going to cut off your head and feed it to your fucking wife—” The boom of your voice echoed through the bar. It was so silent that a pin could drop. 

You could handle comment after comment thrown at you. That, you knew quite well. However, you knew how Logan actually felt about the comments. They called him an animal. A beast. They forced him into something he was always scared of. Himself. You knew him differently. He was Logan. He would make you a cup of coffee every morning, adding a sprinkle extra of cinnamon that he knew you loved. He left fuzzy blankets in his room after the first time you spent the night with him. You commented how itchy his sheets were and ever since, he silently wraps you up in one with an arm attached to your waist. He would place a protective arm in front of you during missions—always assessing the danger to make sure that you would never get hurt. He was so much more than anything they portrayed him as. He was human and everyone—including the team—sometimes forgets that. 

“Darlin’—” You felt your shoulder visibly relax as his large hand enveloped your soft skin. “They’re not worth it.” 

Your heart was beating fast against your ears. You did everything in your power to not throw the man across the room. Your teeth snarled at him—the guy visibly winces, expecting the worst. You slowly lowered him to the ground and let go of his collar. 

“Fucking mutants.” He spits before backing up as far away from the two of you as possible. You turn to move again and the guy gets startled and jumps in fear. Logan squeezes your shoulder to try and ground you once again.

He sees you visibly relax, some regret etched into your features. He knew that you didn’t want to cause a scene but you couldn’t help it. He knew that feeling quite well—when it came to you, he was the same. 

“Let's go home.” 

Logan was silent as the two of you walked out of the bar. You cringed at the pure stillness of the night. You didn’t mean to do more than you should have. It was just an instinct, especially as the vexation flowed through your veins. 

You stop in your tracks for a moment. You opened your mouth to say something which prompted his steps to a halt, as well. “Logan, I’m—” He never let you finish. He grabs your shoulders and shoves you against the brick wall of the bar. You let out a gasp, but it’s quickly swallowed by his mouth on yours. 

His heart is beating fast, echoing against his ears. For once in his life, someone had protected him. Someone had stood up and defended him. Sure, Charles has done that many times, but not from an act of pure love. Charles believed in him. You loved him. 

He has this feeling in his chest. He wantonly has an itch to devour you. He wants to lick the sides of your body and ravish in the pure essence of you. He’d never had this feeling before—this animalistic, pure affection was pounding against his chest. 

“You just couldn’t help it, huh, princess?” He grunted against your ear. His hands caged you in, one resting beside your head and the other deliciously attached to your hip. His teeth nipped at the skin below your ear. “You just wanted to defend your old man, hmm?” He hummed. 

The hand on your hip lowered to your thigh and squeezed the plush flesh. You were wearing a pretty dress tonight, one that you knew he would rip off later. You just weren’t expecting it now. “I just—” He breathed in the smell of your shampoo and it sent a shiver down your spine. “I couldn’t let him talk about you like that, Lo.” 

You let out a whine as he growled against your ear. He was insatiable—unhinged. Something was brewing beneath his stomach that he had never felt before. “Oh, pretty girl. You wanted to protect me?” His lips were at the shell of his ear. You nodded. You almost felt shy now, a direct contrast from earlier. 

Your leg moved to wrap around his own, curling right around his hip. He smirked at the sparkle in your eyes. “Yeah, I know, baby. God, you’re just so fucking good to me.” You were both losing your patience from the pliant kissing and stumbling of limbs. You both were desperate and wanting of one another. 

His lips lowered down your neck. The hand that was caged against the side of your head was now pressed up against your breast. You whined, “They can’t—” You gasped as he squeezed the plush flesh. “They can’t say those things. Made me—” He smiles, lips curling into a little smirk. He moves his arm down to your aching cunt. “Made me see red, Lo.” 

Your hips buck into his hand, the wall scratching against your shoulders as you’re shoved more into the brick. “Yeah? Wanted to hurt him, baby?”

He groaned into your ear at the thought of blood covering your hands from destroying the man trying to insult him. It only fueled more of his fire. He couldn’t take it anymore—mouth still sticking to yours in a gruesome dance across your lips. The saliva spread to his beard, messy and filthy. 

“Wanted—ah—wanted to see him pay.” His hand fully dipped between your panties, bunching up your dress as he lifted you up against the wall. It happened swiftly, yet your mind burned with want and need.

“Fuck. You’re so wet.” He teased your slick entrance, making your legs instinctively pull him closer. “Logan, please.” 

He could smell the way you were leaking for him, spreading the slick around with his fingers. He let out a growl and swiftly unbuckled his belt. He couldn’t wait any longer and neither could you. 

“Can’t wait to fill you. Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy.” He moves your panties with his thumb and swiftly glides in his wide girth. You moan in unison, but you swallow his own and yours with a long kiss on his lips. Your tongues swirl together and you could’ve sworn he pulled you even further. You could feel every inch of him inside of you. He moaned at the stretch of your cunt wrapped around him. “Feel so good, pretty girl. Gonna—fuck—gonna make you mine.”

Your head hits the back of the wall and you start to feel fuzzy in the head. “Lo–” You whine. “Love you.” You whisper into the night air. Something hits Logan in the chest and he can’t help but snap his hips into you even further. 

It makes you see stars, but all Logan can think about is how much he loves you. His chest was burning with something different—something more primal than he had ever felt. It made him want to drool, place his head against you, and live there forever. 

“Love you too, baby.” He grunts. He wanted to do this properly—to be a gentleman. He wanted to take you out to dinner, make sweet love to you, and then tell you those three little words. It completely went out the window when you defended him—when you stood up for him like no one else has. You completely had his back and he couldn’t help but let the happiness burst through his veins. “Love you so fucking much. You know that, baby?”

He makes you turn your head towards him to look him in the eye. You nod immediately, but that isn’t enough for Logan. “Need to hear you, baby. Say it.”

“You love me. I know you love me.” He groans and pumps his cock straight onto your cervix. It makes you squeal at the sensation and he feels the slick run down to his balls. The cold night air made goosebumps on your skin, though, your mind not even noticing. 

“Fuck, I love the way you sound. Don’t be shy, baby.” You fully moan, more than likely the sound echoing across the bar parking lot. “That’s it.” You both were beginning to feel dizzy with love and lust. He couldn’t stop staring into your eyes. He was too immersed in them and he never wanted to look away from them again. 

“Fuck, Logan!” 

“Let go, baby. Let me feel you.” The coil finally snapped as you unleashed the precipice of your orgasm. Your body shuttered against him, all while he was singing praises in your ear. You clench around him so hard that in one thrust, he’s filling you up to the brim. He slowly pumps his salty cum into you, your body convulsing with pure ecstasy. 

You start to giggle in his arms about the whole night. Logan couldn’t help but smile too. You were just too contagious. 

“Let’s go home, Lo.”

He couldn’t help but smile brightly at the thought. He couldn’t suppress the pure joy like he normally could.

“Yeah, okay.” He whispers.

You were home to him. 

He never had to do anything alone anymore. He certainly didn’t have to deal with the demons attached to his hurt heart.

He finally had you.

[back2bluesidex]

We Need Practice - JJK (18+)

A Sequel to Novice.

Pairing: Pornstar!Jungkook X Fem!Reader

Theme: Fluff, smut

Wordcount: 2.1k+

Summary: Jungkook wants you to ride him and you are too bad at that.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, messy cock riding, cumming all over body, they are down bad for each other, more fluff than I intended to have, confessions. NSFW!!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

Masterlist | Patreon

“Don’t judge a book by its cover” 

You have heard this phrase for thousands of times in your entire lifetime but you have hardly had any chance of actually implying the same in your life. 

But then you met Jungkook and you understood how true that one sentence can be. 

Jeon Jungkook is the text-book definition of what those cliched bad-boys or fuckboys would look like. 

With a hand full of tattoos, silver rings dangling from piercings, impressively structured body and a small waist that could rival female models, he really looks like someone who would be fucking people and putting on a show out of it. 

And that is exactly what he does. 

Pornstar Jeon Jungkook is actually very notorious. 

But Jeon Jungkook as a person is a completely different story. 

After that one encounter at that porn movie set, he asked for your number and you complied with his request thinking of he could give you some of the best fucks of your life (not that you have had many fucks to brag about in the first place). 

If you are being honest, then you never expected him to be the sweetheart that he actually is. Since the day you two exchanged numbers, he never once asked if he could come over during god-forbidden hours of night. He never once asked for your nude pictures, neither did he ever force you to meet him. 

Rather he sends you funny dog videos, funny tik tok clips and asks you how was your day. And you can’t lie about the fact that your heart has already started acting strange, like it flutters everytime Jungkook’s name glows on your dark phone screen. 

It’s been more than a month since you have been chatting regularly and now you are getting a little impatient. 

As much as you appreciate his good-boy vibes, you would like to see him again, touch him again. 

So you do what you have been thinking of doing for more than a week now. 

“Sleeping?” you hit send, praying to the universe that he doesn’t find you a desperate bitch for what you are going to do. 

The clock reads 2:15 am already, and just then his reply arrives, “nah. Can’t sleep. What about you?” 

“Me too. Can’t sleep.” 

You take a deep breath before typing the next message, “do you wanna hangout?” 

Just when you are about to add “at my place” to complete your proposition, his reply hits your screen, “Send me your address. And wear something warm before I ask you to come out.” 

Wait. is he? Taking you out? 

Even though you were trying to ask for sex but this option feels even better to be honest. 

So you send him your address and he texts you that he will be there within 10 minutes. Wearing your gray padding, you wait for him to arrive at your place. 

Another positive point about Jeon Jungkook is that he is punctual. You might even call him a green flag because your phone dings with a “I am here” text right on 2:27 am. 

The scene that unfolds in front of you once you come out of your apartment, almost leaves your jaw hanging mid air. 

Jungkook has arrived with a bike, dressed in complete black. If you drooled a little at the sight then you would never admit that. 

Once he sees you awkwardly walking towards him, he takes off his helmet and welcomes you with one of his infamous bunny smiles. 

Your heart does a little flip inside your chest. 

His big doe eyes shine amid the darkness as if those are made of some priceless stone. At this moment it’s really tough to believe that he is a pornstar, who fucks people on camera to earn a living. 

“Hey. you look beautiful.” he greets you with a compliment when you come close to him. 

“You look even more handsome today.” you return his compliment genuinely. And at that, the tip of his ears turn red. 

“Ah thanks.” he replies shyly as he hands you a helmet. And gestures to you to mount his fancy bike. 

You take the helmet, slip that on your head and hold him by his shoulders to climb on his bike. 

Once you have settled, he revves the engine. 

“Hold me tightly” he says briefly before setting the bike in motion. You wrap your arms around his waist and hold him just as he asked you to. 

The deserted road, the trees whooshing by, the buildings that look peaceful, everything feels so beautiful. 

Maybe it’s because of the hour or maybe it’s because you are with someone you like. 

The bike comes to a halt at a crossing and you slide up the windshield of your helmet, “where are we going?” 

He looks at you through the mirror, slides his own windshield up and gives you another sickening smile, but doesn’t say anything. 

5 more minutes later he parks the bike beside a huge lake. 

It looks like a secluded area. The lake is mostly hidden amid big trees and surrounded by fishing spots and some benches. 

Jungkook spreads his hand before you once you both are standing side by side. 

You take the cue and place your hand on his. He intertwines his fingers with yours and you start blushing. Thanks to the darkness, he wouldn’t be able to witness it. 

Once you are sitting on a bench, Jungkook starts, “I often come here to fish with my hyungs. This is my first time coming here with a woman.” 

When you look at him, you find him already staring at you, “Really? You look like the type to have a lot of girlfriends, you know?” 

“Is it because of my profession?” there is a hint of sadness in his eyes. 

So you press on his hand, which is still intertwined with yours and say, “no. not because of that. It’s just that you are generally very attractive and charming, Jungkook.” 

His face brightens up with a beautiful smile, “Too bad, I was about to say the same about you. But you snatched my words.” 

Your eyes widen at his compliment, “You find me attractive?” 

“Why? Why are you so surprised? Is it wrong to find someone attractive?” he giggles, staring deep into your eyes. 

“No. Th-that’s not what I meant. I mean, you know, you work with far more attractive women than me. So.. it’s kind of unlikely actually.” you fumble with your words. 

Jungkook chuckles at your explanation, “they are just colleagues, Y/N. Just like any other profession, we have a strict business relationship. And honestly, they are not even my type. You, on the other hand, fit perfectly into the category of women I would love to date.” 

Your eyes go even wider at his confession, “you.. You want to date me?” 

“If you let me. If you trust me despite the nature of my profession… I would love to make you mine.” Jungkook breathes slowly, his eyes drop down to your lips. 

Before you can voice your answer, your intrusive thoughts win and you reach up, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. 

“I think I would love it too.” 

And then you find yourself being pulled by the back of your neck as Jungkook crashes his lips on yours. It’s passionate, it’s overwhelming, it’s so beautiful and you never felt anything close to this. 

He licks the seam of your lower lip asking you to grant him permission, you let him inside your mouth. 

His tongue probes into your mouth testing each corner, you moan into his mouth. His other hand wraps around your waist pulling you even closer. 

And then you feel one, two, three and then multiple drops of rain falling on you two. 

He detaches his lips from yours, “fuck. It’s raining.” 

“Let’s go back to my place.” you reply, trying to cover your heads with your hands. 

It’s been one of your bucket list wishes to ride a bike in the rain with the person you love and probably it’s going to come true today. 

You hold him tightly, pressing your chest on his back, not in a sexual, but in a loving manner. It starts raining heavily within a few minutes, and Jungkook quickens his speed to reach your destination as soon as possible. 

“Where are you going?” you place your question, seeing Jungkook putting on his helmet again after dropping in front of your apartment entrance. 

Even though the rain has turned into drizzle now, it still can be quite dangerous to drive a bike in this weather.  

“Home. Where else?” he adds a little sheepishly. 

“Jungkook, it’s still raining. I don’t think it’s any wiser to go home now, you’re drenched on top of that. Come inside. You can leave after the sunrise. If you want.. I mean.” you propose, he seems to think for a bit. 

“I don’t think I should go inside, Y/N.” Jungkook looks at the ground as if it’s more interesting than your face. 

“Why? What’s wrong?” you are truly confused now. 

“I might not be able to control myself…” his voice fades by the time he manages to end the sentence. 

“Did I say I want you to control?” you bite your lip, hoping that you don’t appear to be too desperate to him. 

His eyes go wider inside his bulky helmet. 

Jungkook pushes your naked body on the mattress. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking of how good you felt that day.” He groans while biting down on the skin of your neck. 

Your hands roam around the smooth skin of his back. Everytime you scratch his back, he moans a little. 

“So pretty, so delicate, so perfect for me.” Jungkook groans again. 

One of his hands reaches down, finding your clit within a moment. It’s as if he has studied the map of your body with earnest interest. 

Drawing tight circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves, he pulls out melodic moans out of your throat. 

“Jun-jungkook mmm..” you moan again. 

“Yes baby. Say my name again.” he urges you while entering your heat with his middle finger. His digit plunges inside you, making you see stars indoors. 

“Jungko- I’m close” you manage to voice somehow. And as soon as those words fly out of your mouth, he empties you. 

You look at him being dumbfounded. He smirks at you, knowing what exactly he has done. 

“I want you to cum on my cock. I am hard as hell, baby.” he confesses blatantly. 

Just when you are about to hold him, he flips you around. So, now you are sitting on his thighs.  

“I want you to ride me.” he adds a little breathlessly. And you almost choke on your own spit. 

“What? I-I don’t..” 

“I will guide you, Y/N.” he cuts you off. 

He helps you in taking off his slacks along with his underwear. Once he is naked, he holds you by your waist and lines your entrance along with his cock. 

“Are you ready?” he asks briefly. You nod in affirmation. And then he is sliding you down his length. 

At first his length is overwhelming but you adjust fast. 

“You should move now.” Jungkook’s voice is laced with lust, his eyes are hazy, making him look even more attractive than he already is. 

You honestly have no idea how to move. So you try to implement your visual experience. However, it’s tough once you start bouncing on his cock. Even though Jungkook is guiding you well, you are messy regardless. 

Your moves and Jungkook’s thrusts don’t match at all and the experience is nothing like that day. 

You really are a novice. 

Even though the friction is delicious for you, Jungkook’s expression tells that he is very underwhelmed. So, you start trying your best. With a few more bounces, you cum all over his cock, creaming it perfectly. 

As soon as you are done, Jungkook flips you around again. He slips out of you and starts playing himself. 

Even though you are in your post-orgasm haze, it’s embarrassing for you. You couldn’t help him finish and he had to take the charge himself. 

With a few more pumps, he cums all over your body. Starting from your face, to your stomach, everything gets creamed in his white hot seed. 

And it’s hot. He is hot. And you are pathetic. 

“I-I’m sorry. I know it was bad.” you manage to voice once Jungkook is done with himself. 

“You are not bad, baby. We just need more practice together.” and then he is sealing his lips with yours again. 

You certainly need more practice with him. 

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie

[devilsrecreation]

Part two

Bonus pic of him during the finale

May I offer you a smiling Makuu compilation in these trying times?

[bet-on-me-13]

The First Supervillain

So! A Typical "Early Start" AU where the events of The Show happen early in the Timeline. Like, in the 70's or 80's.

Danny never quite managed to fix his Public Perception, and even years into his career people still saw him as the Villain.

Coincidentally Valerie was seen as a Hero because of how often they were seen fighting. Even after they revealed their Identities and got together, they still had the occasional Battle. It was their love language.

His role as the Villain was Cemented when Pariah launched his Second Invasion of Earth after some dumbass accidentally freed him, and Danny took the Blame for it. Instead of being seen as the Hero who battled Pariah and stopped the Invasion, he was seen as the Tyrant to launched the Invasion in the first place, with Red Huntess being the one to defeat him in one final Ultimate Battle.

And honestly? He was fine with that. Now that he was the King of the Ghost Zone, he had the Authority to Regulate the Portal so villains stopped getting through. And that meant that he wasn't needed to stop random Ghost Attacks anymore. He could finally focus on College and his own Life, instead of sacrificing everything to act as the Protector of the Human Realm.

Val continued to be a Hero for a few more years, eventually retiring when it became Clear that the new generation of Heroes could pick up the Slack.

He went to College, got a Job as an Aerospace Engineer, and eventually proposed to Valerie.

About 20 years since his initial Accident, and he was doing great! He had moved into a humble home on the edge of town with his loving wife Val, his beautiful daughter Ellie, and his cute dog Cujo.

Yeah, life was good.

Until the day Danny accidently caused a Mass Crisis.

...

Superman was having some extreme trouble in dealing with his current Opponent. He had just been flying around the City, patrolling as Usual, when all of a sudden he had been attacked by a Flying Mech Suit.

At first he had assumed that Lex was giving it another Go, but he quickly realized that was not the case when the Armor seemed to Phase though solid matter in the middle of the battle. Lex had never made Tech advanced enough to do that on the fly.

This opponent was tough too. Strong enough and Durable enough to go blow for blow with him, and seemingly able to pull Advanced Weaponry from out of nowhere whenever he wanted. As tough as it was to admit, Superman as losing the Battle.

Then, without warning, the battle stopped. His opponent was staring at the space just behind him, with a look of pure dread. He turned around, and his heart stopped.

Floating behind him, staring right past him and directly at the Mech Suit, was the First Villain Phantom.

He looked much the same as when he had last been seen, although he was definitely Older. He had snow white hair, and glowing green eyes that seemed to stare right past him and into his very soul. He was wearing what seemed to be a costume of sorts, with an all black suit, white gloves, and white boots. Over his Shoulders sat a Cloak made of Stars, and above his head sat a Crown made of an Icy Blue Fire.

The Mech tried for a greeting, "Er- Hello t-Lord Phantom. How do you d-"

"Skulker."

"Y-yes?"

"What are you doing here? I thought I gave you explicit orders to stay in the Ghost Zone until further notice. You disobeyed me."

"Okay look. I got excited, that's my fault. It's just, I got anxious waiting. Can you really blame me? I've been waiting 20 years to take another Crack at the Human World, what's it matter if I left a few weeks Early?"

"I told you. You were supposed to wait exactly 20 Years, and you left Early. This calls for punishment."

"No wait!"

"Let's see how you feel after a few days as Soup."

The Villain pulled out a Thermos, and in a flash of green light, Skulker was gone, and the King was capping the Thermos. He then turned to Superman.

"I apologize for him, he decided to leave ahead of schedule." The King addressed him. "Now, Kryptonian. Rest and tend to your wounds, you will need to be in your best health if you want to continue saving the lives of those people below us."

With a dramatic flare, the King reached up and Tore a hole in Space. Through the Hole, Superman could only see an infinite Green Void, with the sound of screams cheering being heard through the rift.

The King departed through the Tear in Spacetime, and it closed behind him.

Superman tried to collect himself, and activated his League Emergency Comms.

"Attention All Founding Members, and Justice League Dark Members. This is Superman calling for an immediate Emergency Meeting."

He took a deep breath.

"Phantom is Back."

[unluckilyimnot]

JEALOUS SAE HEADCANONS PLEASEEEEE

Jealous hc

Characters: sae, rin, kaiser, hiori, karasu, shidou

m.list | rules

Note: hiiii how are youuu thank you for your request hihi I had other characters bc I felt like doing it for them too

Sae Itoshi

he’s too prideful to be jealous, or he thinks so

in fact he get pissed off easily, anyone being a little to friendly with you bother him and he already doesn’t like anyone so imagine

he’s not subtile, even if he thinks he is

he’ll get closer, talk like shit to the person who’s flirting with you in his eyes

roll his eyes, click his tongue, you name it

Suddenly he wants to go home or leave for another place

You never honestly never thought you'll see him like that since he's confident and trusts you

I think he just doesn't like people and so by extension he hates people talking to you

He likes to think he's the only one who can make you smile like that, beside your friends (he's not insane)

So seeing some nobody making you smile, or even worst : laugh makes him jealous

He’s not into pda to save his life i think, that’s something he keeps behind closed doors

But oh man how he likes to kiss you when it happens, just to remind everyone that you're taken and you're proud of it

Be prepared to hear about this, he’s a nagging mom at heart

“Are you done ?” you’d ask and magically, yes he is

he will sulk yes, but close to you at least

Rin Itoshi

Bare with him, he acts tough but deep down he wants to cry

Just like his brother, he will get closer, his arm will probably stay around your shoulders after that

But he won’t be mean to them, just kinda ignore them or send death glare if they get too close

No touching, even in a friendly way, don’t be ridiculous

I think he appreciates it if you put a stop yourself

He’s more insecure than he likes to admit and it prove him that he can trust you

He’s gonna be clingy af though

When you two are finally alone, Rin won’t say a world but glue himself to you

He’ll need reassurance for sure :( this boy has abandon issues

Michael Kaiser

He’s an asshole (lovingly)

He let people flirt with you if it helps their ego and mock them for how long you can think, it’s almost an inside joke for him

The irony is that he’s really possessive, so it’s all fun and game until it’s not some loser that try to hit on you

Not that he feels threaten, please

But he still don’t wanna play with them and he doesn’t want you nearby

If you just happen to be friendly with someone then he’s bothered

What do you mean by being this happy to see someone else ?

He’ll ask a million questions and whine about it before brush it off as if he doesn’t care

It takes a lot to deal with him, his reaction depend on his phase

If he feels low then he’ll be a nightmare, you had to be sorry for someone hitting on you and tell him he’s your one and only

If he’s his confident self, it’s almost like he doesn’t care and let it happen

Being with him is a roller coaster

Tabito Karasu

Best man if is speak

He’s mature and he knows he’s projecting his own insecurity when he’s jealous, so he doesn’t make a big deal about it

He’s not gonna ruin the moment so he just keep his cool and act normally

Deep down you can feel there’s some awkwardness so you try to ask him silently, with your eyes or smile, if he’s ok

He loves you so much he feels dumb to even be jealous the second you do that honestly

Expect small pda like holding hands above your knees, playing with your fingers or the em of your shirt/ skirt

He’ll talk to you about it on your way back home or when you two are comfortable at yours or his place

He knows it’s normal to feel like this sometimes but it’s normal to reach for comfort right ? he’s not shy to ask

Nothings best than you playing with his hair, laying on your chest or thighs

Ryusei Shidou

He’s unhinged he scares me

I think he’s the most jealous among them

You’re his, that’s it so, he may seem lay back (and weird) but he’s cautious with every person coming near you

I hc him with abandon issues as well (give us his back story please and make it worth it compare to some character) so he’s always scared of you leaving

It’s still more in a possessive than an insecure way, he just can’t take it if he considered that someone is too close to you

He gets touchy oh my, he’s all over you, can’t keep his hands to himself just to let them know that you’re taken

He’ll talk to them straight in the eyes while his hand run up and down your thighs, he’s not ashamed of anything

You have to put a stop to it but always expected something more while coming home

Yo Hiori

He’s cute and I don’t think people take him seriously enough

You’re amazing and beautiful and fun to talk to, people already asked you why him

He kinda has war flashback ngl

Obviously he also think that he’s not enough and probably get jealous/sad quickly if someone get close to you and is really friendly

He’s scared to take things into hand I think, so he’ll just ask for you two to leave

He won’t tell you how he feels, he’s sure it’s not important enough to bring it up but you always ask him anyway

You’re so sorry that it happens at all honestly, you never want him to feel like this

He never ask for it but you’re clingy and want to do nothing with him, spending some quality time together, watching him play game while you stay on your phone or even sitting in his laps

It always make him feel better and remind him that you won’t leave him so soon

I hope you liked it ♡

[stylesispunk]

Silent Strain | part v

Outbreak!Joel Miller x f! reader

previous chapter | next chapter

summary: Joel's return came along with some demons following behind and secrets he doesn't want to confess.

w.c: 14k.

Warnings: angst, Joel acts a little dumb during this chapter, fluff, allusions to smut at the end, not proofreading.

a/n: the original chapter was deleted from my laptop and I had to rewrite it again. I didn't remember everything so this one was a bit more dramatic than the original, cuz your writer here was dumped yesterday (💀) besides I wanted to focus on their reunion. The next one is going to be better I promise and Joel is going to behave better🤞✨ thank you so much for your support. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

“I’m sorry,” Joel whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I’m so damn sorry. I never wanted to leave you—never wanted to hurt you.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your gaze meeting his. His eyes, usually so guarded, were filled with an overwhelming sorrow and love that made your heart clench. He lifted a hand to cup your face, his thumb gently wiping away your tears.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought… I thought I doing what was right. But I know I hurt you”

You nodded, unable to form words, your emotions too raw, too tangled. But you could see it now, the regret, the pain he carried just as heavily as you had. And while the hurt of him leaving still lingered, there was something else too, something stronger: the undeniable bond between you, the love that had survived despite everything.

Joel leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm and shaky. “I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere, I swear.”

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you let yourself believe it. You closed your eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours.

As you pulled away from Joel's embrace, your eyes fell on Ellie. She stood awkwardly by the door, her arms crossed over her chest, her face shadowed with guilt. She glanced up at you timidly, as if unsure of her place in all of this. Her usually tough exterior seemed to crumble in that moment, revealing the vulnerable girl beneath.

You could see it in her eyes—the weight she carried, the guilt, the fear that maybe she had been part of the reason Joel left, that she had put him in danger that she had separated Joel from you, that somehow this was her fault. But you couldn’t let her believe that. Ellie had been through enough already, and the last thing you wanted was for her to feel like she didn’t belong like she wasn’t part of your family.

Without a second thought, you walked over to her, your steps steady and sure. She blinked, clearly taken off guard, her eyes widening slightly as you reached her. Before she could say anything, you pulled her into a tight embrace, wrapping your arms around her in the same way you had with Joel. You felt her stiffen at first, uncertain, but then she relaxed into the hug, her small frame leaning into yours.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you whispered, your voice soft but filled with sincerity.

Ellie didn’t say anything at first, but you felt her arms slowly lift to return the embrace, her fingers clutching the fabric of your shirt like she was holding on for dear life. Her breath hitched slightly, and you could tell she was trying not to cry, to hold onto her usual tough façade. But in that moment, it didn’t matter. She needed to know she was safe, that she was loved.

When you finally pulled back, you kept your hands on her shoulders, looking her in the eye. “It’s not your fault,” you said firmly, wanting her to understand that.

She swallowed hard, her gaze flicking to the floor. “I—I thought you would hate me,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I… messed everything up.”

“You didn’t,” you reassured her, your voice gentle but steady. “You brought him. You both made it back, and that’s what matters. We’re together now.”

Ellie nodded slowly, though the guilt still lingered in her eyes. But there was a flicker of relief too, a small spark of hope that she wasn’t alone in this, that she didn’t have to carry the burden by herself anymore.

Ellie’s eyes shifted down to your abdomen, where your once swollen belly was now gone, her brows furrowing in confusion. “Where’s the baby?” she asked, her voice quiet but filled with curiosity, almost as if she wasn’t sure how to ask the question.

You smiled gently, the warmth of the moment settling in as you glanced toward the bedroom’s door. “She’s sleeping now,” you answered softly, a deep sense of pride and tenderness filling your chest.

“She?” Joel’s voice cut through the quiet, and you turned to see him staring at you with wide eyes, his expression a mixture of awe and disbelief. “A baby girl?”

You nodded, your eyes softening as you looked at him. “Yeah… a baby girl. Rosie.”

For a moment, Joel didn’t move, his eyes flicking between you and the door to the bedroom where his daughter was sleeping, as though he was trying to wrap his mind around the reality of it. His baby girl. The emotions that flickered across his face—joy, relief, maybe even a little fear—were unmistakable.

“She’s beautiful, Joel,” you said quietly, watching as his eyes grew glassy.

Joel swallowed hard, trying to keep his emotions in check, but it was clear that the weight of the moment was sinking in. He blinked a few times, as if still trying to comprehend what you had said. “Rosie…” he whispered, the name sounding foreign but perfect on his lips. He nodded slowly, as if saying it aloud made it more real. “Can I see her?” he asked.

Joel’s gaze softened, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. The man who had once been hardened by loss and pain now stood before you, vulnerable and overwhelmed by the love he had found again. “I… I need to see her,” he finally managed, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled, your heart swelling at his tenderness. “Go ahead. She’s waiting for you.”

Joel hesitated for a second, as if afraid to move, but then slowly made his way toward the bedroom door. Ellie stayed back, watching the exchange with a faint smile, but there was still something distant in her gaze. You gave her a reassuring look, hoping to bridge the gap that seemed to have formed between you all since they had returned.

When Joel disappeared into the room, you turned your attention back to Ellie. “You did the right thing, Ellie. You brought him back.”

Ellie shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t know�� it doesn’t feel like it.”

You stepped closer to her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You did. We’re here now, because of you. And Rosie’s going to need you too.”

Ellie’s eyes softened, the guilt still lingering, but she nodded slowly. “I’ll try,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

You gave Ellie a soft smile, sensing the weight of everything she had gone through. “Come on,” you said, your voice gentle. “Let’s go see Rosie together.”

Ellie looked at you hesitantly, her brow furrowing as if she wasn’t sure whether she should join, but you could see the curiosity in her eyes. You reached out your hand, offering her the choice. “She’s part of you too, Ellie. You’ve been with us through everything.”

After a moment’s pause, Ellie slowly placed her hand in yours, the corners of her lips lifting into a tentative smile. You led her toward the bedroom where Joel was standing over Rosie’s crib, his hand softly resting on her tiny back as she slept. He glanced up when the two of you entered, his eyes warm and full of emotion, but they softened even more when he saw Ellie.

“She’s real tiny,” Ellie muttered under her breath, taking cautious steps toward the crib. She peered down at Rosie, her eyes widening as if she couldn’t believe the sight in front of her.

“She is,” Joel whispered, his voice filled with awe. He glanced at you, his expression still laced with wonder.

Ellie stood beside Joel, looking down at Rosie with a mixture of fascination and uncertainty. “I’ve never seen a baby this close before,” she admitted quietly, her hand twitching a little as if she wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure if she should.

You gave her a reassuring nod. “You can touch her, Ellie. She’s stronger than she looks.”

Ellie hesitated for a moment before gently placing her hand on Rosie’s small, delicate arm. Rosie shifted in her sleep but didn’t wake, her tiny fingers curling slightly at the warmth of Ellie’s touch. Ellie’s eyes softened even more, and for a moment, she just stood there, her expression almost unreadable, but you knew there was a flicker of something new—a sense of connection.

“She’s… warm,” Ellie whispered, her voice barely audible. There was a tenderness in her gaze now, something you hadn’t seen in a long time, and it made your heart swell.

Joel wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close as you watched Ellie bond with Rosie. The three of you stood there, sharing a quiet moment that felt sacred, a moment where everything—despite the hardships, the losses, and the uncertainty—seemed to fall into place.

Joel’s gaze shifted from Rosie to you, his arm tightening around your waist as he pulled you even closer. The softness in his eyes made your heart flutter—there was love there, deep and unwavering, but also gratitude. He looked at you as if he couldn’t believe everything that had come to pass, how the three of you were here, together, in this moment.

“You,” he whispered, his voice rough but tender, “you’ve given me everything.”

His words hit you like a wave, and you felt the emotion rising in your chest. You turned to face him fully, your hands resting gently on his chest as you met his gaze. “Joel…”

Before you could say anything more, he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing your cheeks. “I don’t think I ever believed I’d have this again,” he admitted, his voice low, full of reverence. “A family.”

Your heart swelled, the weight of his words sinking in. The years of survival, of pain, and of loss had hardened Joel in so many ways, but here he was—vulnerable, open, and holding on to the life you had built together.

“We are a family,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “You, me, Ellie, and Rosie. We’re a family, Joel.”

Joel’s lips twitched into a soft smile as he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m never lettin’ this go. I swear.”

The warmth of his touch, the steady beat of his heart under your hands—it all made you feel safe, anchored in a world that had once felt like it was always slipping away. You tilted your head up, meeting his lips in a soft kiss, a promise shared between the two of you, wordless but understood.

Ellie, sensing the intimacy of the moment, quietly stepped back from Rosie’s crib and gave the two of you space. She glanced back at Rosie with a small smile before slipping out of the room, leaving you and Joel alone in the soft morning light.

Joel kissed you again, slower this time, his lips lingering against yours as if he needed to savor the feeling. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. “Thank you,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “For all of this.”

The afternoon passed by quietly, the atmosphere shifting slightly as the day wore on. Joel hadn’t explained much about the thin cut on his neck, and though it didn’t look too serious, it was enough to keep you glancing at him, worry bubbling beneath the surface. Every time you caught his eye, he brushed it off, offering a small smile as if to say it was nothing.

But Ellie had noticed it too, and her mood shifted. She grew more silent, retreating into herself in a way that made the room feel heavier. The unspoken tension lingered between the three of you, subtle but present.

Tommy stopped by for a moment, stepping through the door with a light knock. He exchanged a few words with Joel, his eyes flicking between the two of you as if sensing something wasn’t quite right. You tried to keep things normal, making small talk with Tommy about the day, but even he seemed to feel the undercurrent of unease.

When Tommy left, the silence settled in again, more noticeable this time. You looked between Joel and Ellie, feeling the weight of whatever was unspoken, and decided to break the tension the only way you knew how.

“I’ll make us something to eat,” you offered, your voice light as you stood from the couch. “How about some soup? We could all use something warm.”

But Ellie shook her head, her eyes downcast. “I’m not really hungry,” she muttered, her voice low, almost detached.

You glanced at Joel, who shot you a quick look of concern. He cleared his throat, trying to ease the tension. “You should eat, kid. We’ve been on the road for a long time. Ain’t good to go too long without a meal.”

Ellie shrugged, not looking up. “I’m fine,” she said, but there was an edge to her tone, like something was bothering her. Something she wasn’t saying.

Joel frowned, but didn’t push. You could see the worry in his eyes, though—he didn’t like this silence from Ellie any more than you did. You gave her a soft look, stepping closer to where she sat.

“Ellie, if something’s on your mind, you can talk to me,” you said gently, trying to draw her out of the shell she was retreating into.

She glanced up at you, her expression tight, but didn’t respond. Instead, she shifted on the couch and crossed her arms, staring at the floor.

The room felt tense again, and you exchanged another glance with Joel. He reached out, rubbing the back of his neck, where the cut still seemed to be bothering him. You couldn’t help but feel that whatever had happened out there—on their journey back—was still casting a shadow over them both.

Sighing softly, you stepped back towards the kitchen. “I’ll make something small, just in case you change your mind,” you said, your voice quieter now.

As you moved to prepare the food, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the silence than just hunger or exhaustion. You knew Ellie had been through something on the road with Joel, something that neither of them had fully opened up about yet. And it hung in the air, like a storm cloud waiting to break.

You paused in the doorway of the kitchen, glancing back at Ellie. The heaviness in the air was hard to ignore, but you tried to push past it. “I’ll just whip up something light,” you began, hoping it might help ease the tension.

But before you could take another step, Ellie’s voice cut through the quiet. “No,” she said abruptly, her tone sharper than you expected. She pushed herself up from the couch, her movements quick and tense. “I’m just gonna… go to bed,” she muttered, avoiding eye contact as she made her way towards the bedroom.

You exchanged a quick look with Joel, his brow furrowed as he watched Ellie’s retreating form. Neither of you said anything, but the worry was evident in his eyes. Something was wrong.

Ellie paused at the door to the bedroom, her hand lingering on the handle as if she wanted to say more, but whatever words she had were swallowed by the silence. She opened the door and slipped inside, closing it softly behind her.

You stood there for a moment, feeling the weight of her absence in the room, the quiet settling in again, even more oppressive now that she was gone. The silence between you and Joel felt loaded, like both of you knew there were things left unsaid, but neither of you knew where to start.

Joel let out a long breath, rubbing the back of his neck again, his fingers brushing the cut there. You moved closer to him, your eyes drawn to the mark on his skin. “You still haven’t told me what happened,” you said softly, your gaze meeting his.

He looked away for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before finally speaking. “It ain’t important,” he said gruffly, but the way he avoided your eyes told you otherwise.

You gently reached for his hand, your fingers brushing his. “Joel… please.”

He sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping a little as he looked at you. There was a flicker of pain in his eyes, a heaviness he couldn’t quite shake. “We ran into some trouble on the way back,” he admitted, his voice low. “Got separated for a bit, and… things got rough.”

You frowned, your heart tightening with worry. “Separated? How bad was it?”

Joel hesitated, his jaw clenching slightly. “Bad enough,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He glanced towards the bedroom door, where Ellie had disappeared. “She blames herself for a lot of it… thinks she didn’t do enough.”

You sighed, your heart aching for Ellie. “She’s just a kid, Joel. She carries too much already.”

He nodded, the guilt in his eyes unmistakable. “I know. But try tellin’ her that.” He rubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion clear in his posture.

You reached up, brushing a thumb over the cut on his neck. “And this?”

Joel shrugged slightly, as if trying to play it off. “It’s nothin’. Just a scrape.”

You gave him a pointed look, knowing there was more to it than he was letting on, but you also knew better than to push him too hard. Not right now. “You should rest too,” you said quietly, your hand still resting on his arm.

Joel looked at you for a long moment, his gaze softening. “Yeah,” he agreed, though his eyes kept flicking back to the closed bedroom door, the weight of everything still hanging between you both.

You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him gently, offering him the comfort he wouldn’t ask for but clearly needed. He held you close, his grip a little tighter than usual, as if grounding himself in the moment.

The room was quiet, save for the soft creak of the floorboards as you swayed gently back and forth, cradling Rosie in your arms. Her tiny breaths were slow and even, her little face peaceful as she slept against your chest. The warmth of her body, the softness of her skin—it all made the world outside seem far away for a moment.

You hadn’t noticed Joel standing in the doorway, his presence silent but heavy. He watched you, his expression unreadable, a strange mix of emotions flickering across his face. There was something in his eyes—something you couldn’t quite place—that hadn’t been there before their return. A shadow that lingered, clinging to him like a weight he couldn’t shake.

As you continued to rock Rosie gently, you felt a subtle shift in the air, a tension that hadn’t been there before. It was as if whatever they had been through out there hadn’t just stayed outside the walls of your home—it had seeped in, affecting everything. You could feel it in Joel’s silence, in the way Ellie had shut down, in the way Joel’s hand kept rubbing the back of his neck as if the cut there was more than just a physical wound.

You gently lowered Rosie into her crib, your movements careful, as though you could shield her from the unease that had crept into your home. Her tiny body shifted for a moment before she settled back into sleep, completely unaware of the turmoil that seemed to swirl around her.

When you finally turned, you saw Joel standing there, his hand resting on the doorframe. His gaze was fixed on you, but he didn’t say anything. He just stood there, watching, his face a mask of quiet contemplation.

“Joel?” you asked softly, taking a step toward him.

He blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, his eyes flicking away from you. “Didn’t mean to disturb you,” he muttered, his voice low.

“You weren’t,” you replied, your voice just as soft. “Is everything okay?”

Joel didn’t answer right away. He stepped into the room a little further, his gaze landing on Rosie in the crib. His face softened for a moment, but that strange tension still lingered. “I don’t know,” he admitted finally, his voice quiet and unsure, something that didn’t sit right with you.

You walked up to him, close enough to place a gentle hand on his arm. “Whatever it is, we can talk about it, Joel. You don’t have to carry it all alone.”

He looked down at you, his jaw tightening slightly. There was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t bring himself to. “No…I just wanted to say goodnight to the both of you.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, almost whispering “Aren’t you sleeping here?”

“I thought you didn’t want me to.” He said, and the way and the voice you wanted to hear almost seemed to break you.

Joel’s words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you were speechless. The vulnerability in his voice, the way he spoke as though he believed he was no longer welcome here, made your heart ache.

You stepped closer, your hand still resting on his arm, this time with a firmer grip, as though you were afraid he might slip away. “What?” you whispered, your voice shaking slightly. “Why would you think that?”

Joel’s eyes flicked down, avoiding yours, his jaw clenched tightly. “After… everything. Thought maybe you’d want some space,” he muttered, his voice rougher now, as though forcing out the words was difficult for him.

His insecurity broke something inside you. This man, who had carried so much for so long, was now standing in front of you, so unsure of where he stood, and it was almost unbearable.

“Joel,” you said softly, lifting your hand to his cheek, trying to get him to look at you. “I spent all this time missing you, how could you think that?”

Joel finally looked up at you, his eyes softening just enough for you to see the flicker of doubt that had settled deep inside him. “I know you missed me,” he said quietly, his voice still rough but tinged with the slightest trace of vulnerability. “But missin’ someone and wantin’ them back after what they’ve done… those are two different things.”

Your heart ached at his words. “Joel, don’t you understand?” you whispered, stepping closer to him, your hand still resting on his cheek. “I missed you. The real you. The man who keeps me safe, the one who’s always been there, no matter what.”

He swallowed hard, his gaze searching your face as if trying to find the truth in your words. “You don’t know what I’ve done,” he said softly, almost as if he were confessing. “Out there, with Ellie… I didn’t know if I could come back from it.”

His words hung heavy between you, and you could feel the weight of everything he wasn’t saying—everything he believed he had to carry on his own. But you weren’t going to let him carry it alone anymore.

“I don’t care what happened out there,” you said firmly, shaking your head. “Whatever you did, whatever choices you had to make to keep Ellie safe, to come back to me… it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Joel’s jaw tightened again, but this time, it wasn’t out of anger or frustration—it was the struggle of holding back the emotion threatening to overwhelm him. “How can you still say that? After all this?” he rasped, his voice thick.

“Because I love you, Joel,” you said, your voice breaking as you spoke the words you hadn’t said in so long. “And nothing will ever change that.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of disbelief and something else—something deeper, more profound. Then, slowly, he let out a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping slightly as though the weight of his guilt was beginning to ease, just a little.

Without saying a word, Joel pulled you into his arms, holding you tight against his chest. You felt the tension in his body, the way he seemed to be holding on as if you were the only thing keeping him steady.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered into your hair, his voice barely audible.

“You deserve everything,” you murmured back, your heart full as you held onto him just as tightly. “Everything, Joel.”

The two of you stood there for what felt like an eternity, wrapped in each other’s warmth, neither wanting to let go. Eventually, Joel loosened his grip, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes were still soft, but the weight of all that he had carried was visible in the dark circles under them. You traced a finger along his jawline, feeling the roughness of his stubble, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the heaviness of the moment.

“Let’s get some rest,” you said quietly, your hand sliding down to take his. Joel nodded, and together you climbed into bed, the weight of everything still lingering, but with the promise that you weren’t alone anymore. As you settled under the blankets, Joel wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close, his warmth grounding you.

You both fell asleep for the first time in months with a sense of peace.

Hours later, you stirred, feeling the coolness of the sheets beside you. Your hand instinctively reached out, searching for Joel, but the space next to you was empty. Groggily, you opened your eyes, glancing around the room. The soft moonlight streaming through the window cast shadows across the bed, and that familiar sense of panic began to rise in your chest.

You sat up, the dim room spinning for a moment before you steadied yourself. Rosie’s crib was empty, too. Your heart raced as your mind immediately went to the worst possible scenarios, a habit you'd developed in this unforgiving world.

“Joel?” you whispered into the quiet, your voice cracking.

Pushing back the blankets, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, your body tense with fear. You listened for any sound—a cry, a murmur—but the house was eerily silent. Barefoot, you padded towards the door, your pulse hammering in your ears. You stepped out into the hallway, your senses heightened, trying to catch any sign of movement.

Then, as you reached the end of the hallway, you saw them.

Joel was sitting in the old rocking chair near the window, cradling Rosie in his arms. The soft creak of the chair rocked in rhythm with his gentle humming, a melody so faint you could barely make it out. Rosie’s tiny face was nestled against Joel’s chest, her tiny fingers clutching at his shirt. Her eyes were closed, her small body relaxed in his strong arms.

The sight of them together made the panic that had gripped you slowly melt away, replaced by a deep, overwhelming tenderness.

Joel’s back was to you, but as if sensing your presence, he turned his head slightly, catching your gaze in the moonlight. His eyes softened when he saw you standing there, his lips parting as if to apologize.

“She woke up,” he whispered, his voice low and raspy in the stillness of the night. “Didn’t want to wake you, so I brought her out here.”

You stepped closer, your breath evening out now that you knew everything was okay. "You didn’t have to," you murmured softly, kneeling beside the chair so you were level with them. Your hand reached out to gently brush Rosie’s soft hair, the steady rise and fall of her breathing soothing your own nerves.

Joel shook his head, his gaze dropping back to Rosie. “I wanted to,” he admitted quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m obsessed with her. She is so beautiful”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, all the fear, all the guilt he had carried for months seemed to dissolve in the quiet of this simple, intimate moment.

You leaned your head against Joel’s arm, taking in the warmth of him, the scent of Rosie’s baby skin. It wasn’t just about surviving anymore. It was about moments like this, holding on to the people you loved, no matter how broken the world outside was.

“She is” you replied, “You know, since she was born, I spent nights without finding myself able to sleep.” You low your gaze to Rosie, “I couldn’t. I was alone and I was scared something could ever happen to her. I needed to stay awake and make sure she was breathing”

Joel listened to you, but his heart broke a little inside, he had left you behind all this time when you needed him the most. Just when you have started your motherhood.

Joel’s chest tightened at your words, the weight of his absence settling heavily on his shoulders. He looked down at Rosie, the tiny bundle of innocence cradled in his arms, and the guilt surged through him once more. You had been alone during some of the most vulnerable moments of your life, forced to navigate the terrifying responsibility of motherhood in a world that had already taken so much from both of you.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, thick with regret. His gaze remained fixed on Rosie, his thumb gently stroking her soft cheek. “I should’ve been here. I should’ve been by your side. You shouldn’t have had to go through any of that alone.”

You could hear the pain in his voice, the anguish of a man who felt he had failed the people he loved most. It wasn’t his fault. You knew that. The world had forced his hand—forced him into impossible choices, and you had never blamed him for leaving. But hearing him say those words still made your heart ache.

“It wasn’t your fault, Joel,” you said softly, your hand reaching for his. “I know why you had to go with Ellie. I know you didn’t have a choice.”

Joel’s jaw clenched, his face hardening for a moment as if he were wrestling with the weight of everything he had done—everything he had seen. His eyes flicked back to yours, and you could see the vulnerability there, the raw emotion he rarely let anyone see.

“I still should’ve been here,” he repeated, his voice rough. “I should’ve found a way.”

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, trying to ease the guilt that was eating away at him. “You’re here now,” you said quietly, your voice full of understanding. “That’s what matters.”

Joel nodded, but you could tell he was still struggling to accept that. His gaze fell back to Rosie, his expression softening as he watched her sleep so peacefully, oblivious to the storm of emotions swirling around her parents.

“She’s everything,” Joel murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life.” He smiled and looked at you for a moment “Well, after you.”

A warmth spread through you at Joel’s words, his soft smile disarming in a way that always managed to pull you in, no matter the weight of the world outside. You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. In moments like this, it was easy to forget the pain, the loss, and everything you had both endured to get here.

“Well,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as your fingers gently brushed Rosie’s tiny hand, “you have good taste.”

Joel chuckled softly, the sound low and comforting. It was rare to hear him laugh these days, and when it happened, it felt like a small victory against the darkness that so often consumed him. He looked at you again, his eyes full of affection, and for a brief moment, the guilt and weight he carried seemed to ease.

“You both deserve better,” he said quietly, the smile fading just a little, as the seriousness returned to his voice. “I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure you have it.”

You shook your head slightly, your hand still resting on his arm. “Joel, you’ve already given us everything that matters. We’re here, together. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

His eyes softened at your words, and he swallowed hard, as if trying to push down the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. “I don’t know how you do it,” he whispered, almost as if he were speaking to himself. “How you still see good in me after everything I’ve done.”

You leaned in closer, your hand moving to cup his cheek, guiding his gaze back to yours. “Because I know who you are, Joel. I know your heart. Everything you’ve done.

He let out a long breath, his jaw tightening for a moment before relaxing under your touch. “I hope you’re right,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours as if seeking reassurance.

“I am,” you said firmly, your thumb gently stroking his cheek. “You’re a good man, Joel. Rosie and I are lucky to have you.”

For a moment, he just looked at you, the flicker of doubt in his eyes slowly giving way to something softer, something more certain. He leaned in and kissed you, his lips gentle but full of emotion, as though trying to convey everything he couldn’t say with words.

When he pulled back, there was a quiet resolve in his eyes. “I’ll never stop tryin’ to be better for you. For her.”

“You already are,” you whispered, your heart full as you rested your forehead against his.

In the quiet of the night, with Rosie’s steady breathing filling the space between you, it felt like—despite everything—the world had given you something precious. Something worth fighting for.

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the small window of your bedroom, casting a warm glow over the room. The remnants of last night's conversation lingered in the air, but today felt different—lighter somehow. There was a sense of normalcy that hadn't been present for months.

You woke up to the sound of soft baby coos coming from Rosie’s crib. Blinking your eyes open, you smiled as you watched her tiny hands wave in the air, her chubby cheeks flushed with the early morning light. She was your world, and seeing her safe and content filled you with a quiet peace.

Joel stirred beside you, his arm still loosely wrapped around your waist. It was rare for him to sleep in this late, but after everything, it was no surprise he needed the rest. You gently slipped out from under his arm, careful not to wake him, and padded over to Rosie. Her wide eyes looked up at you as you picked her up, her little body warm and soft against yours.

“Good morning, baby girl,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She gurgled in response, her hands reaching for your face, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

You took your time feeding her, sitting by the window and watching the town of Jackson slowly come to life. The quiet streets were starting to bustle with activity as people moved about, tending to their duties within the community. It still amazed you sometimes—the sense of order and peace here, despite everything the world had become.

Jackson had become home, and though the scars of the past were still healing, there was a strange comfort in the routine of it all. Maria had been incredibly kind, offering you a place in the community and even helping you when Rosie was born. She had become a friend, and in many ways, a guiding force in these new chapters of your life.

As you dressed Rosie for the day, Joel finally stirred from the bed, sitting up with a groan. He rubbed his eyes, still clearly tired, but there was a soft smile on his face when he looked over at you and Rosie.

“Mornin',” he said, his voice rough from sleep.

“Morning,” you replied, walking over with Rosie in your arms. Joel reached out, gently taking her from you, and held her close, pressing a kiss to her tiny head. You watched as his entire demeanor softened in her presence, the way it always did. He’d always been protective, but since he returned, there was something deeper, a sense of devotion that went beyond just survival.

“You sleep, okay?” you asked, sitting down beside him.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “Better than I have in a while.”

You smiled at that, glad that he was finally starting to find some peace. “Good.”

Joel shifted his focus back to Rosie, his fingers tracing little patterns on her arm. “Ellie’s probably out there already,” he muttered, glancing towards the window. “Kid doesn’t know how to take it easy.”

You chuckled softly. “That’s Ellie for you.”

After a few more moments of quiet, Joel handed Rosie back to you and stood, stretching his arms with a grunt. “I’ll go find her, make sure she’s not causing too much trouble.”

You smiled at him, watching as he pulled on his boots and threw on his jacket. Before leaving, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll see you later,” he murmured.

“See you,” you replied, watching him disappear out the door.

Just as Joel reached for the door, ready to head out, a sharp knock echoed through the small house. His hand froze on the doorknob, and he exchanged a quick glance with you, his brows furrowed in slight confusion. It was early, and few people usually came by without warning.

Joel opened the door cautiously, his posture tense, ready for anything—old habits that hadn’t quite left him despite the relative safety of Jackson. Standing on the other side of the threshold was a man Joel hadn’t seen before—tall, with a calm but confident demeanor. He was holding a bag slung over his shoulder, the kind you’d expect a doctor to carry.

Joel’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you?” he asked, his voice guarded, suspicion still lacing his tone even though the man seemed harmless enough.

The stranger smiled politely, though there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes. He glanced over Joel’s shoulder for a moment before responding. “We didn’t have the chance to meet before you left,” he said, his voice calm but measured. “I’m Paul. I’m the doctor here. Helped deliver Rosie while you were… gone.”

At the mention of Rosie, Joel’s expression shifted, though his guarded stance didn’t relax completely. The words carried weight, and though Paul’s tone was professional, Joel didn’t miss the subtle undertone that lingered in the air—one that said Paul had been there, playing a part in your life during his absence.

Before Joel could say anything, you appeared behind him, Rosie still nestled against your chest in the sling. Paul’s eyes flicked toward you, his expression softening for a moment, but the tension between you two was palpable. Your shoulders stiffened, your demeanor guarded and cool, the remnants of your last conversation with him still fresh in your mind.

Paul nodded slightly in your direction. “Morning,” he greeted, though his tone lacked the warmth it once held.

You gave a short nod in response, your voice clipped. “Morning.”

Joel’s eyes darted between the two of you, immediately picking up on the tension. His jaw clenched as he studied Paul, piecing together the unspoken dynamic that was hanging heavy in the air.

“So, you’re the one who delivered Rosie,” Joel said, his voice tight, though he managed to keep his tone neutral. He didn’t know the details, but something about Paul’s presence seemed to rub him the wrong way.

Paul nodded, though his gaze lingered on you for a moment before shifting back to Joel. “Yes. I was just doing my job—helping out where I could.”

Joel’s expression hardened at the subtle implication in Paul’s words, but he didn’t rise to it. He simply crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes locking onto Paul’s with a quiet intensity. “Well, we’re grateful,” he said, his voice low, but there was no mistaking the edge to his tone.

Paul, sensing the unspoken challenge in Joel’s words, shifted his weight slightly. He was used to navigating the delicate lines of life in Jackson, and he had expected this moment ever since Joel had returned. Still, it was clear that whatever he had with you—whatever connection might have developed during Joel’s absence—wasn’t something either of you had wanted to acknowledge out loud.

“I just wanted to stop by and check on Rosie,” Paul said, his voice more professional now, though the tension in the air was still thick. “Make sure everything’s going well.”

“She’s fine,” you answered, your voice a little too sharp. “Healthy and strong.”

Paul gave a tight-lipped smile, glancing at the baby for a brief second before looking back at you. “I’m glad to hear it.”

There was a brief silence, the air between the three of you charged with unspoken words. Joel, standing protectively in the doorway, hadn’t moved an inch, his presence a wall between you and Paul. He may not have known everything that transpired during his absence, but it was clear he didn’t like the familiarity in the way Paul looked at you.

Finally, Paul cleared his throat, sensing he wasn’t welcome to linger any longer. “Well, if you need anything—medically, I mean—don’t hesitate to let me know,” he said, his tone polite but distant now.

Joel gave a slow nod, stepping forward just enough to send the message loud and clear. “We won’t,” he said, his voice low and firm.

Paul hesitated for a brief second before nodding in return. “Alright then,” he said, his eyes flicking to you one last time before turning and walking away, his figure retreating down the path that led back into town.

The door clicked shut as Joel closed it behind him, his broad shoulders tense. He turned back to you, his eyes searching your face for an explanation, though he didn’t say anything at first. The silence hung between you for a moment, thick with unspoken questions.

You sighed, shifting Rosie in the sling as you glanced at Joel. “We used to get along” you said quietly, though you knew that wasn’t nearly the whole story. “He’s just been… around.”

Joel’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t press further, at least not now. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly still working through the emotions that Paul’s presence had stirred in him. “Yeah,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you. “Seems like it.”

But Joel didn’t push the subject. Instead, he looked at you—really looked at you—and softened. “You okay?” he asked, his voice gentler now, his protective instincts kicking in.

You nodded, offering him a small smile. “I’m fine, Joel,” you reassured him. “I’ve got everything I need right here.”

Joel’s expression softened at your words, and without another word, he stepped closer, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his chest, Rosie nestled between you. Whatever tension Paul had stirred, it was fading in the warmth of Joel’s embrace.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice a quiet promise. “So do I.”

Joel pressed a kiss to the top of your head before pulling away, his eyes searching yours as if making sure you were really okay. “I’ll go find Ellie,” he said softly. “We’ll catch up later.”

You nodded, appreciating the space he was giving you to process everything. “Okay. See you later.”

He gave you one last look, his eyes full of unspoken promises, and then he left the house, heading toward town. With Rosie still nestled against your chest, you decided it was time to get moving too. There was work to be done, and you needed to meet Maria.

As you stepped outside into the cool morning air, the town of Jackson bustled quietly around you. It was early, but people were already up, tending to chores, patrolling the perimeter, and preparing for the day. The sense of community here was something that still amazed you. After all the chaos of the world outside, this felt almost like a slice of peace.

You made your way toward the main square, where you knew Maria and Tommy were likely to be. As you walked, you spotted Maria near the stables, talking with a couple of people from the patrol team. Tommy was beside her, nodding along, his expression serious. It looked like they were discussing something important.

You approached them quietly, not wanting to interrupt. Maria glanced up first, her eyes softening when she saw you approaching with Rosie. “Hey,” she called out with a warm smile. “How are my two favorite girls?”

You smiled back, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “We’re good,” you replied, adjusting Rosie in the sling. “Joel just left to find Ellie.”

Maria’s smile faltered for a brief second as she exchanged a glance with Tommy, who cleared his throat and stepped forward.

“Actually, I was just about to head over and talk to Joel,” Tommy said, his tone thoughtful. He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly weighing something in his mind.

“About what?” you asked, your curiosity piqued.

Tommy hesitated, looking at Maria as if seeking confirmation. She gave him a small nod, and he turned back to you. “We’ve been talking about bringing him more into the fold here,” Tommy said, his voice cautious but sincere. “My brother’s a survivor, a leader, he’s got experience we could use. We were going to see if he’d be interested in helping out with the patrols.”

You blinked, processing what Tommy was saying. You hadn’t had much time to think about what Joel’s place in the community would be now that he was back. He’d barely had time to settle in, but you knew him—knew that staying idle wasn’t something he could do for long. He needed purpose, especially after everything that had happened with Ellie.

You blinked, trying to absorb Tommy’s words. Joel had only just returned, and the idea of him immediately taking on more responsibilities—especially something as dangerous as patrols—made your chest tighten with worry. But deep down, you knew Tommy was right. Joel was never the type to sit on the sidelines. He needed a purpose, something to focus on, especially after all he’d been through with Ellie.

Still, it didn’t stop the flicker of unease that crept up your spine. After months apart, the thought of him being out there again, facing potential danger, was difficult to process.

“Patrols?” you asked, your voice cautious. “Isn’t that a bit… soon?”

Tommy looked down for a second, nodding as though he understood your concern. “Yeah, it is soon,” he admitted. “But Joel’s always been a natural leader. He knows how to handle himself, and frankly, we need people like him. Things have been good here, but we can’t get complacent.”

Maria, standing beside Tommy, placed a comforting hand on his arm before turning her gaze to you. “We wouldn’t throw him into anything too heavy right away,” she reassured. “He could start small—short patrols, nothing far from Jackson. But Tommy’s right. Joel’s experience could really help. Plus…” She trailed off, her eyes softening. “It might be good for him. To feel like he’s contributing again.”

You swallowed hard, glancing down at Rosie in your arms. She was still sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the adult worries surrounding her. You wanted nothing more than to protect this little bubble of safety you’d found—Joel’s return, Rosie’s birth, the stability of Jackson. But you also knew Joel, knew he wasn’t the type of man to sit back and let others take risks for him. He’d need to be out there, to feel useful again.

“I understand,” you said quietly, glancing back at Maria and Tommy. “It’s just… after everything, I worry.”

Tommy’s expression softened, and he took a step closer. “I get it. Believe me, I do. He’s my brother. I don’t want him out there if he’s not ready either. But I also know Joel. He’s got that look in his eyes again, like he’s ready to do something. We’ll ease him into it. I promise.”

Maria nodded in agreement. “We’ll keep him close at first. Small tasks. He’s got a family now, and we know that changes things. We’re not going to put him in unnecessary danger.”

You let out a slow breath, nodding. You trusted Maria and Tommy, but it was still hard to think about Joel going back out there, even in a limited capacity.

“I’ll talk to him,” you finally said, your voice steady but laced with emotion. “See how he feels about it.”

Tommy smiled, relieved that you were open to the idea. “Thanks. That’s all we ask. Just see how he’s doing. We won’t rush him into anything.”

“Yeah, and we’ll make sure he’s not doing too much too fast,” Maria added. “We want him here with you and Rosie.”

Her words helped ease the knot of anxiety that had formed in your chest. You knew they meant well, and they were right—Joel would need to find his place in the community sooner or later. He wasn’t the type to stay idle, and if this was a way for him to regain some sense of normalcy, then maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing.

“Okay,” you said, offering them both a small smile. “I’ll talk to him when he gets back.”

Maria reached out and gave your arm a reassuring squeeze. “Thank you. We’re all in this together. And whatever happens, you’ve got our support.”

Tommy nodded, giving you a grateful smile before glancing off toward the direction Joel had gone. “I’ll head out soon and find him, have a quick chat.”

Maria gave you a warm smile, her eyes brightening a little as she mentioned the event. “Oh, and remember—we’ve got that little spring party tonight.” She glanced at Rosie and then back at you, a playful glint in her eyes. “It’s just a small gathering, but it might be a nice chance to get out for a bit. You and Joel could use some time to unwind, you know?”

You felt a small smile tug at your lips, though part of you felt unsure. A party, even a small one, seemed like such a foreign idea after everything that had happened. Still, it might be good for both of you—especially Joel—to spend some time around the community, easing back into this new life.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down at Rosie, who was still peacefully asleep. “We’ll see how Rosie does today. I don’t want to push her too much.”

Maria nodded, completely understanding. “Of course. No pressure. But if you can make it, even for a little while, it might be good for you two. There’ll be food, music—something light to take our minds off things for a bit.” She smiled gently, knowing how much everyone could use a distraction in these times.

You nodded, appreciating her thoughtfulness. “I’ll talk to Joel about it,” you said. “Maybe we’ll stop by for a little while.”

Maria gave you a quick nod. “That’s all we ask. It’s more about getting everyone together and sharing some moments, you know?” She gave a quick wave, then turned and headed back toward the stables.

As you returned to the house, the thought of the spring party lingered in your mind. It had been so long since you’d even thought about anything remotely festive, and a part of you longed for that sense of normalcy, even if just for a few hours. Maybe it was exactly what you and Joel needed—a chance to reconnect, to feel like a part of this world again, rather than just surviving day to day.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over Jackson, you and Joel bundled Rosie in her little blanket and made your way to the spring party. The sounds of laughter and music began to fill the air as you approached, and the sight of string lights flickering overhead created a cozy, inviting atmosphere.

Ellie was already there, bouncing on her toes with excitement as she spotted you. “You made it!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up with joy. She rushed over, throwing her arms around you. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t come!”

“Yeah, well, we thought we’d stop by for a bit,” you replied, a smile breaking across your face. “How’s the party so far?”

“It’s awesome! They have all kinds of food, and they set up games over there!” Ellie pointed enthusiastically to a group of kids gathered around a makeshift ring toss. “Come on! You have to try it!”

Joel shifted beside you, looking a little uncertain as he surveyed the crowd. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he glanced around as if trying to find a safe spot. It was understandable; he’d been out of this world for so long, and while Jackson had been a haven for you, it was still new territory for him.

You squeezed his hand gently, your fingers intertwining with his as you leaned in closer. “It’s okay,” you whispered softly, catching his eye. “Just take it one step at a time. We’re in this together.”

He looked down at you, his expression softening as a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Yeah, okay,” he replied, his voice steadying as he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze in return. The warmth of his touch grounded you, reminding you that despite the chaos of the world outside, you had each other.

As you moved further into the party, the inviting scents of grilled meat and baked goods filled the air, and the lively chatter began to wash over you like a warm wave. People were mingling, laughter echoed around, and for a moment, it felt like life could be normal again.

Ellie dashed off to join Dina, and you and Joel found a spot near the food table. A couple of the neighbors waved at you, smiles on their faces, and you waved back, feeling the warmth of community wash over you.

“See? Not so bad,” you said, nudging Joel gently.

He nodded slowly, but you could still see the wariness in his eyes. “Just… takes some getting used to,” he admitted, his gaze flickering over the crowd.

“Want something to eat?” you asked, trying to keep the mood light. “They have a ton of options, and I think I saw some pie over there.”

Joel chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You and your sweet tooth,” he teased, and that made you smile wider. “You sure you want me to go get it?”

“Why not?” you replied playfully, nudging him again. “It’ll give you a chance to stretch your legs. And I could use some pie—just to fuel me for the games later!”

He let out a small laugh and finally relented, giving you a nod. “Alright, I’ll grab something. Just stay close, okay?”

“Always,” you said, watching him head toward the food table. As he walked away, you felt a swell of affection for him. Despite the uncertainty, he was making the effort, and that meant the world to you.

You moved over to a nearby group of friends who were chatting and laughing, trying to embrace the festive atmosphere. You exchanged pleasantries, laughter bubbling up as stories were shared, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to forget about the outside world.

A few minutes later, Joel returned with a plate of food in one hand and a slice of pie in the other. He had a small smile on his face, and you felt a rush of happiness at the sight. He’d found a little comfort in this gathering, and that made everything worth it.

“Got your pie,” he said, handing it to you with a flourish, and you beamed up at him.

“Thank you, sir!” you replied playfully, taking the plate from him. You took a bite, letting the sweetness fill your mouth, and couldn’t help but moan a little at the deliciousness.

Joel chuckled, shaking his head at your exaggerated response. “You really do love that stuff,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with warmth.

You leaned closer, your heart full as you whispered, “You love me for it.”

He smiled, that genuine smile that reached his eyes. “Yeah, I reckon I do.”

As you savored the slice of pie, Maria and Tommy approached, their faces glowing with the warmth of the gathering.

“Hey there!” Maria called out, waving as she made her way over. “Looks like you two are having a good time!”

“Just indulging in some pie,” you replied, grinning. “Can’t resist a good dessert.”

Tommy chuckled, glancing over at Joel. “Looks like you’re fitting in pretty well, brother,” he said, giving Joel a playful nudge.

Joel shrugged, but the small smile on his face gave him away. “Tryin’,” he replied, looking around the festive scene.

Maria’s eyes sparkled as she looked at Ellie, who was bouncing on her toes. “Are you ready to play some games, Ellie? I think they set up a scavenger hunt over there.”

Ellie’s eyes widened with excitement. “Yes! Come on, let’s go!” Without waiting for a response, she dashed off toward the games, clearly eager to participate.

“Hey, wait up!” you called after her, laughing as you turned to Joel. “I guess we’re off to the races!”

“Go on,” Joel said, his voice a mix of encouragement and amusement. “I’ll keep an eye on Rosie. You go have fun.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, glancing down at Rosie, who was nestled peacefully in the blanket.

“Yeah, I got this,” he assured you, his tone firm yet gentle. “You enjoy yourself. I’ll be right here.”

You felt a flutter of gratitude and affection in your chest. “Okay, I’ll be back in a bit,” you promised, leaning down to place a soft kiss on Rosie’s head before you turned to join Ellie, Maria, and Tommy.

As you made your way toward the games, you could hear laughter and cheers ringing out, the atmosphere buzzing with energy. The kids had gathered around a makeshift obstacle course set up with old tires, rope swings, and a small climbing wall, and Ellie was at the front, explaining the rules with fervor.

“Okay, everyone! You have to complete the course and grab a prize at the end!” she shouted, her enthusiasm infectious.

You joined the group, cheering on the kids as they took turns navigating the course. The competitive spirit ignited, and soon you found yourself swept up in the fun, encouraging everyone to give it their best shot.

As you laughed and cheered with the kids, completely absorbed in the games, Joel’s mood began to shift. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Paul standing with a group of friends, but what caught his attention was the way Paul kept glancing in your direction, a subtle smile on his face.

Joel's jaw tightened, and the familiar surge of protective instinct kicked in. His mind raced, and those nagging voices from his past began to creep in, planting seeds of doubt and jealousy. He couldn't shake the feeling, even though he knew better. He turned toward Tommy, his voice low and edged with frustration.

“That guy, Paul,” Joel muttered, not bothering to mask the irritation in his tone. “What’s the deal with him? Why is he looking at my woman like that? Something happen between them or what?”

Tommy’s eyes widened in surprise at Joel’s bluntness, and Maria, who was standing beside them, gave Joel a look of disbelief. “Joel,” Maria said slowly, her voice firm but calm, “you’re overthinking things.”

Tommy raised his eyebrows, clearly taken aback by Joel’s sudden shift in attitude. “What the hell, man?” he asked, keeping his voice down so others wouldn’t hear. “Do you think she was enjoying your absence when you were gone?”

Joel clenched his fists at his sides, his gaze flicking back toward Paul, who was still casually chatting with his friends, seemingly unaware of the storm brewing in Joel’s mind. “Then why’s he smilin’ at her like that?” Joel pressed, his voice laced with a mix of jealousy and insecurity he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Joel,” Tommy said, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice, “you need to chill. Paul is just friendly. He’s trying to make everyone feel welcome here.”

Maria stepped in, trying to defuse the situation. “Listen, Joel, you’re back now. That’s what matters. You have to trust her.

Joel's jaw tightened, “I trust her, not him”. the protective instinct surging within him. He couldn’t help but think about the time he’d spent away from you, the emptiness that had consumed him during those months. The thought of someone else trying to fill that void made his stomach churn. “I just don’t like how he’s looking at her,” Joel muttered, the frustration evident in his voice.

“You were just implying she had something with him when you were gone” Tommy recalled, clearly mad at his brother.

You approached the table, your heart sinking as you overheard the tension in their conversation. The mention of Paul sent a jolt of unease through you, and you felt your stomach twist. Joel's protectiveness, while understandable, was beginning to feel suffocating.

“Are you really implying that I had something with him?” you interjected, your voice steady but laced with disbelief. The three of them turned to you, surprise evident on their faces. Joel’s expression shifted from irritation to concern, his eyes widening at the realization of how his words had come across.

“No, I—” Joel started, but you raised a hand to stop him, your gaze firmly fixed on him.

“I heard it” You took a deep breath, trying to remain calm.

You reached out and gently took Rosie from Joel's arms, cradling her against you as if she were a shield from the growing tension. The moment your daughter nestled against you, her small weight grounding you, you felt a surge of emotion.

“Look, Joel,” you said, your voice a mix of frustration and hurt, “I know you’re protective. I get that. But you’re making this harder than it needs to be.” You glanced down at Rosie, brushing your thumb against her tiny cheek. “I can’t have you doubting me or our family because of some guy who-“

“Who what?” he pleaded, urging to you to say something.  

“I’m going home” you said.

The words hung in the air between you, sharp and sudden. You could see the flicker of surprise in Joel's eyes, his mouth opening slightly as if he were about to protest, to argue, but you raised a hand to stop him.

“Don’t,” you said, your voice steady but trembling with the weight of your emotions. “Just… don’t.”

His jaw clenched as he watched you, the realization of what you meant beginning to sink in. “You’re seriously gonna walk out on me over this?” he asked, disbelief coloring his tone.

“I’m not walking out on you, Joel,” you replied, your heart racing. “I’m walking away from this moment. I need some air. I need to think.”

“Think about what? About me? About us?” His voice was low, laced with urgency, but there was a desperation in his eyes that made your heart ache. “You can’t just leave like this.”

“I can, and I will,” you said, your voice firm despite the tears that threatened to spill over. “I don’t want to fight, especially not in front of Rosie. It’s not fair to her or to us.”

He took a step closer, his expression shifting from disbelief to concern. “You know I didn’t mean it like that,” he said softly, his tone pleading now.

I hear what Tommy said, and if you thought that low of me...My baby needs to rest, goodbye" you say to maria and tommy and glance at joel for the last time before leaving.

With a heavy heart, you turned away, clutching Rosie closer to your chest as you made your way toward the exit. Each step felt like a weight pressing down on you, but you couldn’t stay in the atmosphere filled with unspoken words and tension.

As you walked past Maria and Tommy, you managed a tight smile, trying to keep it together for the sake of your daughter. “Take care of him,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You could feel their worried gazes on your back as you continued onward.

“Wait!” Joel called out, but you didn’t turn around. You could hear the urgency in his voice, the underlying desperation, but you needed this space to breathe, to process everything that had just happened.

The cool air hit your face as you stepped outside, the sounds of laughter and festivities fading into the background. You walked a short distance away, finding a quiet spot where you could gather your thoughts without the weight of Joel’s piercing gaze on you.

Once you were alone, you let out a shaky breath, feeling the tears finally spill over as you sank down onto a nearby bench. Rosie stirred in your arms, and you gently rocked her, humming softly to soothe her. She was your anchor in this chaotic world, a reminder of the love that had once felt so solid between you and Joel.

“Why does it have to be so hard?” you murmured to Rosie, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand. “I just want us to be happy.”

"You're just made to be a lover" tommy spoke to Joel.

The moment Tommy’s words reached Joel’s ears, they hung in the air, echoing with a weight that only added to his frustration. “What do you mean by that?” Joel snapped, turning to his brother, his eyes narrowing in irritation.

Tommy raised his hands in a placating gesture, his expression a mix of sympathy and understanding. “I mean, look at you. You care so much about her. You always have. But sometimes, it seems like you’re letting your fears get in the way of that love.”

Joel’s jaw clenched as he ran a hand through his hair, clearly wrestling with the truth in Tommy’s words. “You think I don’t love her?” he shot back, though the defensiveness in his voice felt more like a shield against his own vulnerability.

Tommy took a step closer, lowering his voice to a calmer tone. “No, I’m saying you love her too much to let your insecurities ruin it. She’s been through a lot. She spent the last time of the pregnancy alone; she gave birth alone and you came here and implied that of her?”

“I didn’t.” Joel defended himself.

“You did, Joel,” Tommy said, frustration creeping into his voice. “You made it sound like she might’ve been unfaithful while you were gone. That’s not fair to her, especially after everything she’s been through.”

Joel’s face fell, the weight of Tommy’s words hitting him hard. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his voice low and shaky. “I just… I can’t help but feel like I missed so much. I’m scared of losing her to someone else. I’ve already lost so much.”

“I get that,” Tommy replied, his tone softening. “But the way you said it? That’s not the way to show her you care. She needs you to be her rock, not a source of doubt.”

Joel clenched his fists, battling the feelings of guilt and fear that churned inside him. “I’m trying, man. It’s just hard. I spent so long thinking about her, and now I see this guy looking at her, and I can’t help but feel…”

“Jealous?” Tommy interjected. “Protective? Whatever it is, you’ve got to channel that into something positive. You don’t want to drive her away now that you’re reunited.”

“Go and talk to her before I broke your nose” maria interfered.

Joel turned to Maria, surprise flickering in his eyes. He could see the concern etched on her face, and it reminded him of just how much he had to lose if he didn’t get this right.

“Maria, I—” he started, but she shook her head, cutting him off.

“No more excuses, Joel,” she said firmly. “You need to go to her now. Don’t let your fears ruin what you’ve fought so hard to get back. Go!”

With her encouraging shove, Joel felt a surge of urgency wash over him. He glanced at Tommy, who nodded in silent support, and then turned to make his way through the gathering crowd, his heart pounding in his chest.

He arrived at home and scanned the living room for you, his eyes darting between the furniture and spotted you, sitting on the sofa with Rosie in your arms. The sight of you made his heart ache, how beautiful you looked, but how pained your expression seemed as you cradled their daughter.

Taking a deep breath, he approached, and as he got closer, he could see the small frown on your face. It felt like a kick to the gut. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked up, with a guarded expression. “Joel,” you replied, your tone cool but not entirely dismissive.

“I, uh… I wanted to talk,” he said, his hands instinctively moving to his hips as he tried to figure out how to say what was in his heart. “About what I said earlier.”

You glanced down at Rosie, who had just started to stir, and then back up at him, your expression a mixture of hurt and uncertainty. “What’s there to say?” you asked, your voice steady but laced with emotion.

He took a deep breath, stepping closer but maintaining a respectful distance. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I let my jealousy get the best of me.” He glanced down, his brow furrowing. “I shouldn’t have implied that you were unfaithful.”

Your heart ached at the sincerity in his voice, but the hurt still lingered. “You know how hard it was for me, right? I felt so alone while you were gone. I just wanted to believe everything would be okay when you returned.”

“I get that,” Joel replied, his gaze earnest as he stepped closer. “But it doesn’t excuse my behavior. You were strong while I was away.”

Your breath caught as you prepared to open up, knowing the conversation was far from over. “Joel, while you were gone… things were hard, really hard,” you began, glancing down at Rosie in your arms. The memories of those lonely nights came rushing back, and it took everything in you to keep your voice steady. “Paul… he tried to twist things, make me believe I couldn’t do this on my own. That being a mother, without you, was too much for me.”

Joel’s face tightened, his fists balling at his sides as he absorbed your words. “What are you saying?” His voice was strained, his eyes searching yours for an explanation.

“He never said anything outright, but he was always there, trying to plant seeds of doubt,” you continued, looking down at Rosie as you spoke. “He made it seem like you weren’t coming back, that you couldn’t. He’d say things like, ‘You’re strong, but no one can do this alone,’ or that maybe you’d forgotten about us out there.”

Joel’s expression darkened, the anger simmering beneath the surface, though you could tell he was fighting to keep himself in check. “He said that?”

You nodded. “It was subtle, but it was enough to make me question myself. I think part of me confused the help he was giving with something more. Like maybe, for a second, I thought he was being a friend.” You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to keep going. “But that wasn’t real. I was vulnerable, and he knew it. I was just trying to survive without you, to raise Rosie, to keep going. But I never wanted him, Joel.”

Joel’s shoulders slumped; the tension still present but mixed now with sorrow. He ran a hand over his face, clearly trying to process everything. “So, he tried to make you believe I wasn’t coming back,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. “I hate that he did that. But I hate even more that you had to go through that alone.”

You sighed, feeling the weight of those lonely months lift just a little, now that the truth was out in the open. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to make it worse or seem like I was giving up on you. But it’s why I reacted the way I did tonight. When you questioned me like that… it brought back all those fears.”

You stood up, your heart still heavy but feeling lighter than it had in days. As you carefully laid Rosie down in her crib, her tiny chest rising and falling peacefully, you felt a moment of calm settle over you. The room was quiet, but you could feel Joel’s gaze on you, filled with regret and turmoil.

You turned back to him, hoping that this moment of truth between you had brought you closer. But as you met his eyes, you could see the storm of emotions still brewing within him. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in the tense lines of his body.

Before you could say anything, Joel abruptly turned and walked toward the door.

“Joel?” you called softly, your voice uncertain.

But he didn’t stop. He reached for the doorknob and stepped outside without a word. You hurried after him, calling his name a little louder this time. “Joel, wait!”

By the time you reached the door, he was already halfway down the path, heading back toward the party. You stood at the threshold, the cool night air brushing against your skin, watching as he disappeared into the distance.

Joel marched back toward the party, his footsteps heavy with frustration and unresolved tension. The festive atmosphere was still buzzing with laughter and music, a stark contrast to the storm swirling in his mind. He pushed through the crowd, his eyes scanning for Paul. There was an urgency in his stride, a need to confront the gnawing feeling that had been eating away at him.

When he finally spotted Paul, standing near a group of people by the makeshift bar, Joel’s jaw clenched. The doctor was casually sipping from a glass, laughing at something someone had said, unaware of the brewing confrontation.

Joel approached him, his body tense, his eyes locked onto Paul. As he drew near, the noise of the party seemed to fade into the background, his focus narrowing entirely on this one man. Paul looked up, his smile faltering slightly when he noticed Joel’s intense expression.

“Hey, Joel,” Paul greeted him, his tone friendly but cautious. “Didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”

Joel didn’t waste any time. “We need to talk,” he said, his voice low and steady, but there was a dangerous edge to it. The kind that made everyone around them take a step back, sensing the tension.

Paul raised an eyebrow, clearly confused but trying to keep things light. “About what?”

Joel took a step closer, his gaze unwavering. “About what you said to her. About the things you’ve been puttin’ in her head.”

Paul blinked, his confusion deepening. “What are you talking about? I’ve only ever tried to help—”

“Help?” Joel cut him off, his voice growing sharper. “You think telling her she couldn’t do it on her own, that she needed someone else—needed you—is helpin’?”

Paul’s expression shifted, the easygoing smile he usually wore fading into something more serious. “Joel, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just trying to offer support. She was struggling, and I—”

“I don’t need you explainin’ what she needed,” Joel interrupted again, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for her. She’s stronger than you give her credit for you don’t know what she’s capable of.”

Paul held up his hands in a placating gesture, clearly trying to defuse the situation. “Look, I was just trying to be there for her. You weren’t around, and she—”

“And that’s what I’m here for now,” Joel growled, stepping even closer until he was right in Paul’s face. “I don’t care what you thought you were doin’. Stay away from her from my girl.”

“She is your girl, but you abandoned when she was pregnant?” Paul chuckled.

“I didn’t.” Joel replied.

“Oh, come on man, I even know your daughter better than you do”

Joel’s fists clenched tighter, his entire body going rigid at Paul’s words. The implication that Paul knew his own daughter better than he did cut deeper than he’d expected. His breath came out in harsh, shallow bursts as he stepped even closer to Paul, their faces inches apart.

“You don’t know anything about me or my family,” Joel growled, his voice dangerously low. “Don’t act like you were doin’ me a favor. You think you stepped up? You think you know her? You don’t know what we’ve been through.”

Paul didn’t back down, though his face remained calm. “I was there when you weren’t, Joel. She needed someone, and I was the one who made sure she didn’t go through it alone. I’m not trying to make this harder for you, but you have to accept that things changed while you were gone. She changed. She had to.”

Joel’s chest tightened, the guilt he had been fighting against all night rising to the surface. He knew Paul wasn’t entirely wrong—he had been gone, and she had faced some of the hardest moments of her life without him. But the thought of someone else filling that space, being there when he couldn’t, made his blood boil.

“You don’t get to play that card,” Joel bit out, his voice trembling with barely contained fury. “You think just because you were there for a few months, that makes you more important to her than I am? I’ve known her longer than you ever will. And Rosie? She’s my daughter.”

Paul’s calm demeanor shifted slightly, a smirk playing on his lips as he crossed his arms. “You know, Joel,” he said, his tone infuriatingly smug, “maybe she deserves someone who was actually there for her. Someone who can protect her and Rosie. A real man.”

Joel’s breath hitched, his pulse pounding in his ears. Those words—a real man—echoed in his mind like a trigger, striking at every fear and insecurity he had buried deep down. His hands shook with the effort it took not to lash out right then and there.

“Watch your mouth,” Joel growled, his voice dangerously low, his fists twitching at his sides. He could feel the rage simmering just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over. “You don’t get to talk about what she deserves.”

Paul didn’t flinch. If anything, he seemed to grow more confident, feeding off Joel’s rising anger. “But I am talking about it. Because I care about her, Joel. I care about Rosie. Maybe more than you do. You think she needs someone like you, someone who’s always running off, disappearing? Maybe she needs stability. Someone who’s here. A real family.”

Joel’s vision tunneled, the sound of blood rushing in his ears. He took a threatening step forward, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with venom. “I swear to God, Paul. You don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about. I was gone because I had to be. To keep her safe. To keep them safe. You’re not part of that. You never will be.”

Paul took a deep breath, stepping closer as if testing Joel’s limits. “Maybe that’s what she’s thinking too. Maybe that’s why she hasn’t said anything to stop me. Maybe she’s realized what a real man looks like.”

Joel snapped.

In one swift movement, he grabbed Paul by the collar, pulling him close. The crowd around them gasped, the festive atmosphere suddenly charged with tension. Joel’s face was inches from Paul’s, his voice a low, menacing growl. “You don’t get to talk about her like that. Ever.”

For a brief moment, it felt like the world held its breath. Paul’s smirk faltered, and for the first time, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face.

Before Joel could take things further, Tommy’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. “Joel! Stop!”

Tommy rushed forward, putting a hand on Joel’s arm and pulling him back, but not without effort. “This ain’t the way, man. Not here. Not like this.”

Joel released his grip on Paul, pushing him back roughly. His chest heaved with the effort to contain his rage; his fists still clenched. He glared at Paul for a long moment, every muscle in his body tense.

Paul straightened his shirt, trying to regain some of his composure, but the smugness was gone, replaced by something else—caution.

“Stay away from my family,” Joel warned, his voice ice-cold. “Or next time, we won’t be talkin’.”

With that, he turned and stormed off, leaving the party behind him, his mind a whirlwind of anger, guilt, and frustration. He had to get away—away from Paul, away from the eyes of the crowd, and away from the fear that maybe, just maybe, Paul had hit a nerve that Joel wasn’t ready to confront.

Tommy caught up to Joel, grabbing him by the arm and steering him toward the house. Joel’s anger was still palpable, his body tense as they walked, the night air doing little to cool his heated emotions.

When they finally reached the door, Tommy let out a sigh, glancing at Joel, who looked like he was ready to explode again at any moment. “Look, I know you’re pissed. But you can’t keep letting this stuff get to you,” Tommy said, his voice firm but compassionate. “Paul ain’t worth it. And neither is risking your family over some nonsense he’s spewing.”

Joel didn’t respond, his jaw tight as he reached for the doorknob. But before he could open it, Tommy stopped him, his tone more serious now. “You need to fix this, Joel. Not just with her, but with yourself. You keep pushing, and you’re gonna lose her. Don’t let that happen.”

Joel glanced at his brother, his expression conflicted, but he nodded slowly, the weight of Tommy’s words sinking in. He pushed open the door, stepping inside.

As they entered, you were sitting in the living room, cradling Rosie as you fed her. The sight of Joel and Tommy walking in together, the tension still hanging in the air, made your eyes widen. You weren’t sure what had happened, but the look on Joel’s face told you that it hadn’t been good.

Tommy shot you an apologetic glance, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I know you and my brother had a fight,” he said, his voice low and cautious, “but please, control him. He’s about ready to knock someone’s head off.”

Your heart sank as you looked at Joel, seeing the storm of emotions swirling behind his eyes. You sighed softly, shifting Rosie in your arms before standing up. “What happened?” you asked quietly, already dreading the answer.

Joel stood there, looking at you, the regret evident in his posture. “Nothin’ good,” he admitted, his voice rough. “I had a word with Paul. It got heated.”

Tommy let out a heavy sigh. “That’s one way of puttin’ it,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Look, I’ll leave you two to talk. But seriously, you both need to figure this out. I’ll be around if you need me.” With that, he gave you a reassuring nod and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

Now, it was just you, Joel, and the unspoken tension filling the room. Rosie cooed softly in your arms, oblivious to the weight of the moment.

“Joel,” you began softly, your voice careful. “What did he say to you?”

Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of frustration and vulnerability. “He said things… things that got under my skin. Made me feel like I’ve been failing you, like he’s been fillin’ in for me. And I just… I lost it.”

You bit your lip, the weight of his words sinking in as you studied his face. Despite the frustration and anger still simmering in him, there was a deep vulnerability beneath it all. Without saying a word, you reached out, taking his hand gently. Joel glanced down at your fingers intertwined with his, and you tugged softly, guiding him toward the sofa.

“Come on,” you whispered, leading him to sit down. Joel hesitated for a second but followed your lead, sinking into the cushions. You could feel his tension, the lingering heat from his encounter with Paul still coursing through him.

Once he was seated, you moved closer, surprising him as you sat down on his lap, your legs on either side of him. You wrapped one arm around his shoulders, your other hand brushing softly through his hair as you settled in. His arms instinctively came up to hold you, though his grip was tentative, as if he were afraid of losing control again.

You leaned in close, your forehead resting gently against his as you spoke softly, “Joel, I need you to hear me. I know you’re angry, and I know you’re hurting, but you don’t have to carry that all by yourself. You’re back and I’m still here. Rosie’s here. Ellie’s here. We’re not going anywhere.”

He looked up at you, his brow furrowed, eyes searching yours for reassurance. “I’m tryin’, but every time I think about what you went through while I wasn’t here…” He trailed off, his voice breaking slightly as the guilt washed over him.

You cupped his face with both hands, forcing him to look directly at you. “You didn’t fail me, Joel. I made it through because I had to—for Rosie, for us. And I’m still here because I want to be with you. But you have to stop letting those fears control you. Paul doesn’t matter. You do. This family does.”

He sighed, his hands tightening slightly around your waist, his body starting to relax just a little under your touch. “I hate feelin’ like I’m not enough. That someone else could step in and—”

“Nobody’s stepping in, Joel,” you interrupted firmly, your voice soft but insistent.  “Nodoby could replace you.”

He leaned his head back against the sofa, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath, as if your words were the first bit of air he’d gotten in hours. You stroked his cheek, your thumb tracing the line of his jaw, trying to soothe the storm within him.

“You have to let this go,” you whispered, leaning in closer, your lips just inches from his. “We’re here. We’re together. And nothing—no one—is going to change that.”

Joel opened his eyes, his gaze locking onto yours, a mixture of relief and lingering vulnerability flashing through them. He reached up, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch soft and reverent. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmured, his voice low and full of emotion.

“You won’t have to find out,” you replied softly, leaning down to press your lips gently against his. The kiss was tender, full of the love and reassurance that words alone couldn’t convey.

As you pulled back slightly, your fingers traced the side of his face, your voice barely above a whisper. “Joel, he will never have the way you have me.” You said, kissing his mouth, hands hiking up his shirt. His hand moved up your back, pulling you closer as if he needed the reassurance that you were right there with him.

The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every moment. You could feel the tension in him slowly dissolving, replaced by something warmer, more certain. His fingers brushed through your hair, his other hand resting gently on your waist, holding you steady as the kiss grew more intense.

“I want you” you whispered against his mouth, then down his jawline, neck collarbone as his hands squeezed your waist as an answer.

“Please, have me” he replied, his voice hoarsed in a whimper.

Tags 💌: @jasminedragoon @orcasoul @missladym1981 @hiroikegawa @eleganthottubfun @lumpypoll @cuteanimalmama @thespookywookies @goodvibesonly421 @karaslqve @greenwitchfromthewoods @somedayheaven @bambisweethearts @joelsteinfeld @guelyury @biapascal @picketniffler @mrsyixingunicorn10 @httpvomitello @kulekehe @callmecath1 @persephone-girl @colmiillo @pedroswife69 @keileighr @capswife @fallout-girl219 @sullyselena @cymbalta-slut @my-tearsricochet

If you want to be removed, feel free to tell me.

[zevrra]

JJK—

synopsis: just some random hc’s i have for the men of jjk!

tags: fluff only, the men of jjk, nanami kento, choso kamo, geto suguru, gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, hc’s, short & sweet

creator notes: part 2

nanami !!

— is totally that “i will take care of you in every aspect” guy but i secretly think he’s pretty possessive too

— doesn’t get jealous easily

— flip flops between being a total morning person (on his days off) but the days he has to “work” he’s the opposite

— love/hate relationship with coffee bc he def drinks 8 cups of it every morning and feels gross after he does it

— the epitome of cleanliness and perfect hygiene

— like 100% he uses top of the line shampoo and body washes and after shaves and cologne!!

— ALWAYS smells good and it’s a mix of amber, some kinda wood, and probably something soft like vanilla

— feel like he’s cheap when it comes to stuff for himself but anytime it involves you, he’s buying you the best of the best

— leaves you notes all over the place whether it’s on the fridge, next to your side of the bed, sending flowers to your work space with a note attached, all just to tell you how much he cares and loves you

— willingly works overtime for you :3

choso !!

— sleeps until 4 pm every day

— a true night owl, mans HATES the sun

— feel like he’s super photogenic but hates taking photos unless you’re taking them

— would work any electronic like an elderly man

— “i can’t find the settings on this thing. where is it i’ve been looking for it for 15 minutes!” “it’s right here” “oh. how did you do that?”

— either has no scent at all or smells like iron/cinnamon/or straight up blood im so sorry skshskhkdhsk

— you both match everything from jewelry, especially rings, to outfits

— sleepy eye bags 24/7!!!

— takes a 5 minute shower but sits in the bathroom on his phone watching the loudest videos he can for 45 mins before he gets in

— loves spicy food!!

geto !!

— leaves gifts in your rooms without a word

— is the type to “i saw it and it reminded me of you so i got it”

— loves wholeheartedly. full chest, heart, mind, body, and soul

— willingly hands you his hoodie after he’s done wearing it

— quality time & gift giving is his love language!!

— heavy on quality time, he wants to sit or stand beside you and just coexist 24/7

— matching tattoos and piercings

— scary guard dog bf!!!!

— actually doesn’t mean to be but he kind of loves it a lot when other guys run away from you(him)

— his pet names for you range from “babe” to “stinky” and everything in between

— probably smells like sage & citrus

— he takes the longesssst showers ever and always invites you to them

— let’s you braid his hair, falls asleep every time you do it

gojo !!

— wants to touch you constantly!

— you’re either holding his hand or sitting in his lap anytime you two are together

— loves loves loves hugs

— gossip QUEEN! omg he’s so nosy

— “did you HEAR about this????” and it’s either the most basic information or straight up gossip gold

— always emphasizes the MY in his pet names for you

— “oh my love!” “my darling.” “hmm my princess?”

— a jealous, jealous man >:3

— loves to show you off until someone other than himself looks at you jshsjshk

— is the type of dude who acts all funny and tough in public but the second it’s just the two of you, at home, he wants to be babied and have his back scratched 24/7

— doesn’t tell you when it’s going to be chilly out so he gets to tease you as he hands you his warm jacket

— plans surprise dates all the time

toji !!

— is never caught wearing anything other than sweat pants

— wore a suit once for your first date and then never put it back on

— his love language is probably a mix between physical touch and gift giving

— has a hand always placed on your thigh!!

— his favorite season is winter and when you ask him why he just says he likes the cold

— it probably also has to do with wanting to keep you warm too

— is the type to: “i hate wearing bracelets” “ok ill just take it back” “no fuck you i’m gonna wear it and never take it off”

— literally keeps everything you give him in a box so he doesn’t lose them

— uses 13 and 1 shampoo

— calls you his old lady(affectionate) unironically

— smells like cigarettes and cheap ass beer KSHSKHS

— when he’s actually clean and sober he probably smells more like heavy wood and fire/smoke

— is a massive HEATER when he sleeps and he always sleeps on his back

— sleeps in the nude

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki x reader (fem)

a.n; i blame this completely over the Olympics, again. sorry, but it has me on chokehold and i'm not resisting against it LOL 😜

Okay, hear me out...

Third date with Bakugou Katsuki.

The first one, of course, was very awkward and tense and sometimes even a bit worrisome. We are talking about dating Bakugou Katsuki, the one aggressive and violent Pro Hero that everybody has a hate-love feeling towards for; because the man looks and acts –and can– step on your head and crush it with malicious intent and yet, he's Nº 2 Pro Hero on the ranks and you just know that if he's around, you are completely safe. But he's big and tough and harsh in his talking and walking –how can anyone look that scary by just walking, you're still wondering, but it's real. He's fucking scary.

The second date was way more relaxed. He cooked for you. In his massive penthouse that probably costs more than your annual salary. Yep, morherfucker is rich rich. And you think he deserves it really. After all the troubles he goes through to keep the whole country safe –and even the world–, he completely deserves it. You just forgot how well he does his job to get to be that rich. You don't care about money though. You're dating him because you saw him helping a granny cross the street and that was the cutest thing you ever saw. So, back to the second date, he cooked for you, and damn... now you can say you'll keep dating him because of his food. Man cooks like the gods, like a fucking professional chef of the most expensive restaurant on earth. And also, you noticed how relaxed and in peace he looked in his own environment and he looked. So. Freaking. Attractive. Hot even. He looked just so... deliciously handsome.

So for the third date, and because he picked the second one, this one was of your choice. You decide to go ice skating. And you did not expect what happened at all. 

One would expect that Pro Hero Dynamight, civilian name Bakugou Katsuki, being who he is, would have exceptional balance and even a hidden talent for this. You’re wrong. Everyone is wrong. The second the blades of his skates touched the Ice Rink, he fell. Your eyes opened wide and you definitely were holding back your laugh as he struggled to get himself up by holding the handrail around the rink.

“Need some help?” You asked, getting close to him with no trouble at all. He looked up at you annoyed, struggling so hard to get up and keep his balance that his cheeks turned pink. How. Freaking. Cute. You’re glad that dating the Pro Hero came with its perks –like closing the whole rink just so only you and him are there, enjoying your date on a late wednesday night.

“Shut up. No, I can do it…” He declared, but another fall on his knees made you giggle while sliding backwards and away from him with ease, hands up in surrender. Katsuki looked at you once his stood for the nth time holding the handrail like dear life with a frown on his face, watching you how easy you made it look, “How the fuck are you doing that?”

You giggled again, amused by all of this situation. Sliding back towards him and extending your hands, you said, “Come one, let me help.”

Katsuki buffed but he placed his hands on yours, whole body trembling, barely holding himself up. The image of him sticking his ass up and body bending forward while his feet barely moved made you laugh out loud and he yelled another “shut up!”.

You changed your grip to his forearms and again slid backwards to make him move forward, his legs still trembling and his eyes never leaving the floor. He looked so cute, it made your heart flutter. The smile never left your face as you spoke again, “I used to skate a lot when I was younger. I even prepared myself to compete, but an injury put me out of the game.” 

He immediately looked back at you at your words, “What happened?” He looked curious, but also worried and kind of sad.

You shrugged, “I landed pretty badly over my right leg after a spinning jump once. After that, the shin splints became unbearable and I couldn't continue…” 

He looked down at your leg, watching you move attentively, “Does it hurt now?”

You shook your head and smiled at him, grateful for his worry, “Naah. It would only hurt badly if I tried to skate the way I used to… Guess I demanded a lot of myself back then.”

Katsuki didn’t comment further on, but he kept his attention on your leg. Didn’t that make him even cuter! 

It took you a while –long while– to finally be able to let go of one of his forearms once he was ready on his balance; his other hand still held yours strongly.

Time went by, both of you laughing and smiling while skating around the rink, hand in hand. You’re so happy that you could stand on the ice again. It brought you so many fond memories of when you were a kid. Skating was the only thing that could easily make you smile just because; the wind in your face made you feel free, content. and Katsuki could clearly see that.

For a moment, he got distracted by how beautiful you looked… and he lost his balance again. This time bringing you down with him. He was fast enough though to catch you and make you land over him. Your amused and loud laugh was contagious, so he couldn’t help but smile. He's having fun –even if he knew his body was going to hurt a bit the next day for how many falls he had.

“You’re so clumsy…” You laughed, joking kindly and funny.

“Oh, yeah? Then why don’t you show me what you can do?” His smirk made you suddenly stop laughing. It’s a clear challenge, yet curiosity shined in his eyes.

“Alright, hero… watch and learn,” you helped him stand up and directed him towards the handrail. 

Once he was away from possible harm, Katsuki watched you skate around the rink as if you were flying, gliding around with so much confidence and ease, as if you were made for it. Your hair floating behind you for how fast you were going, dancing beautifully with the air. He was hypnotized. Completely mesmerized by each little form you decided to enlighten him with. He particularly felt fascinated when you decided to spin fast and so many times he couldn’t count how many, then you stopped like it had been nothing and kept gliding around. 

You looked so nice and professional, Katsuki felt a little pang of pity for the world. It would never be able to share how beautifully perfect you looked at the moment.

A few more glides around, until you stopped in a very experienced way right in front of him, a huge smile on your face and a shine on your eyes that were proof of how immensely excited and happy you felt.

Did katsuki say already how fucking beautiful you were?

Just to prove his point, he instantly grabbed your face and kissed you for the very first time.

And fuck, he planned on keep kissing you as much as you would let him.

He let you go for a moment just to say, “That was beautiful… You’re gorgeous.”

You smiled one more time before sliding your arms around his neck to kiss him again. He moved a bit to surround your waist with his arms…

And that’s when he forgot about the handrail and sent you both again towards the floor.

[messylustt]

౨ৎ ‧˚

𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲?

miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 3.4K words

fic masterlist previous part pt three next part

miguel unwillingly pining after reader; fantasies about you in miguel’s head; a massage (pg); a hint of jealous miguel; spanish wise—I hope I wrote everything correctly, I asked for some opinions and check ups from a spanish speaker <3 big thanks to you — after an interesting morning with miguel, you learnt a few more spanish words, not to be late, and having him in close proximity might give you a heart attack. your mind certainly wandered when you were monitoring a mission, the spider peoples’ bickering making you feel annoyed, an emotion miguel unwillingly likes the look of on you. but how does he feel when he makes his request… asking you to follow him to a door you didn’t think you’d ever pass through?

“Checking the location now.” You said through your ear piece, tapping away at the keyboard. Your back was straightened as you stayed focused. You were working with a group of spider variants, who were assigned to get rid of a misplaced “villain” as they liked to put it. It just makes their job sound much more important, resulting in then coming back with a proud sway to their hips.

“Bro, why are you breathing so hard?” Hissed one of the spider variants to another.

“I’m settling into my hero act.” His tone is full of pronounced muscle—most likely standing with his arms by his side like some macho man. He takes a deep sigh. “It can be tough being such a incredible hero.”

The others just stare, clearly used to this from him, before a screech meets everyone’s ears.

“Where is it?!” One of them exclaims, frantically looking around.

“It would’ve blended into one of the buildings’ walls.” You say, scanning the area on your computer.

“I’m sorry, did you just say ‘blended in’?” A spider-man asks. “What is this monster—a chameleon?”

You’re silent for a moment. “Please tell you me reviewed the mission.”

There’s silence through the earpiece. You blink a few times, then close your eyes taking a deep breath. “Why not?”

“Look, I was going to but…Parker distracted me!”

“I distracted you?!” Parker exclaimed.

“Guys.” You try, but they either can’t hear you or are choosing not to.

“You were the one who was so eager to just defeat this villain!”

In your annoyed state, you can’t help but let your mind wander somewhere that had held your attention for majority of the day…

—this morning—

You rushed down the stairs, while simultaneously fixing your hair. Shit, you were gonna be late. All because of these extensive stairs.

When you reached the bottom, your hair had become a mess again, making you place your flat palms against your head as you tried to soothe the stray hairs.

You reach the door to your office, pausing to take a breath. Twisting the handle, you walked inside.

You instantly noticed Miguel, spider suit back on, as he swiped necessary and unnecessary screens back and forth by the large spider.

You tried to stay quiet as you walked to your desk, but your luck seems to plainly not exist as Miguel’s voice greets you—rather gruffly.

“Would it be cliché to say ‘you’re late’?”

You press your lips together as he jumps down. You seem to forget how tall he is until he’s towering over you, with a look that states ‘you should be worried’.

You gulp, before forcing a smile. Miguel’s expression stays dead as he waits for you to speak, most likely to explain yourself.

When you say nothing your mouth opening and closing like a stupid fish, Miguel speaks. “I said six.”

You nod. “I heard you.”

“Did you?” His clicks his jaw, a slight tilt to his head, as he observed your quickly fixed hair and slight heave of your chest. You clearly rushed. “You just woke up.”

“No.” You say indignantly. “I’ve been awake since six, I just didn’t like the idea of walking down those stairs, so…I began working in my room.”

“Uh huh.” He sarcastically nods. “Right.”

You press your lips together, thinking you should have stitched them shut. You weren’t helping yourself.

“You keep saying you want to prove that you belong here.” Miguel begins. He leans forward, his red eyes gleaming, his fangs becoming more visible as he snarls. “If you don’t start getting here at six, then I’ll be happy to drag you out at four.”

He leans back, stalking back towards the big spider, as he webs himself up to the top. You let out a sigh, turning to your desk and swivel chair.

;;

After an hour or so of working, and going over the mission scheduled in a few hours, you feel a breath by your neck. With wide eyes you spin around to see Miguel staring down at you.

When he meets your gaze, you’re placing your hand over your heart. “Can you not scare me like that?” You mutter out.

He leans forward…and forward… and forward, until his large hands are caging you in by resting them on the chair’s armrests. “Scare?” He almost whispers in question to himself.

You’re utterly frozen as his breath tickles your nose and cheeks, which you are sure to be an embarrassing red by now.

“O’hara?” You slowly question, it comes out quieter than you had intended.

His eyes stay focused on your own, as your pulse beats rapidly in your chest. Stop it— you want to say. But you’re not sure what ‘it’ is exactly.

“…did you need something?” It’s the only thing you can think to say.

“What do you mean by scare?” He asks.

You lightly shift in your chair, unsure what to do in this situation. “Um…I just mean that you’re…you are kinda scary, O’hara.” You force a chuckle, trying to ease tension you are sure is the annoyance radiating off of him.

“Is it the fangs?” He asks, his eyes strangely showing genuine interest—or what you think to be genuine.

“Kind of?” You say more so as a question. “But also how you never, well…smile.”

“Why should I smile at people I don’t want to smile at?” He asks, his eyes finally dropping away from the entrapment of your own, but to a much worser place.

You self consciously lick your lips, feeling your nerves turning them dry. His gaze doesn’t shift from your mouth for an abnormally long time.

“O’hara.”

His brows then begin to furrow, his eyes finally leaving your lips, making you unintentionally sigh.

“Why do you refer to me by my last name?”

“What does ‘chaparrita’ mean?” You counter.

He narrows his eyes, leaning away from you and back to his full height. “You ready for your lesson?” He suddenly asks, grabbing a swivel chair and leaning back.

You stare at him for a moment. So that was what he was supposed to ask this whole time? “Okay, if you tell me—“

“No.” He says monotonously. “Ahora deja de hacer preguntas y siéntate y escucha.” (Now stop asking questions and sit and listen.)

You didn’t understand what he just said but you can understand his tone, so you readjust yourself on your chair and stay silent.

“Now…what do you say when you want help?” Miguel inquires, his tone now almost babying.

You narrow your eyes, but answer anyway. “¿Me puede ayudar, por favor?”

“Mm.” He hums, letting his gaze drop. “Bien.”

Miguel notices the slight curve of your lips at his praise. He shifts in his seat. “I hope you know what that means.”

Your small smile falls, before a fake one replaces it. “Yes, O’hara, I do know what that one means.”

“You should loose the attitude, chaparrita. Si es que quieres mi ayuda” (If you want my help, that is.) He says, running his tongue along one of his fangs.

“I understood “my help”.” You say. “And the one with the attitude here is you.”

“How so?”

You raise your brows. “Do I need to answer that? I thought you were observant?” Okay, now you were just pushing his buttons for fun. He seemed to get riled up so easily.

A scowl forms on his face. “Si no fueras tan pinche bonita, creo que me gustaría verte arañada” (If you weren’t so annoyingly pretty, I think I’d like to see you clawed up.) He mutters under his breath, his gaze slightly venomous.

“¿Cómo estás?” Miguel says. “Repeat it.”

“¿Cómo estás?” You repeat.

“That means “how are you?”. And what could you reply with?” He inquires.

“Bien.” You answer.

“Mejor.”

“‘Better’?” You say with a scoff. “I feel like I should get a bit more credit…Spanish is hard.”

“First of all—it’s not.” Miguel states. “Second…you know what ‘mejor’ means?”

“It was one of the words I learnt on my phone.” You shrug.

“Any other words I should I know about?” He sounds annoyed, and you can’t fathom why.

“You’re annoyed at that? To be honest I thought you’d be grateful.”

He doesn’t say anything. Mainly because he can’t say the first reason that popped into his head. He wanted you to learn Spanish—all of it—from him, and only him. He also can’t tell you because he doesn’t know why he feels that way. It was stupid, feeling resentful to a phone, utterly stupid, but Miguel can’t ignore the nagging feeling in his stomach.

—present—

“Shut up!” You exclaim, massaging your temples.

There’s finally silence on the other end.

“The invisible monster is moving your way, on the left wall. You’ll be able to spot a slight glimmering shimmer over him. If you look close enough.”

You finally see the spider variants pick up into action, spotting the monster and beginning to attack.

Miguel watched from afar, leant by the open door to the main tech room, arms crossed as he watched you lean back in annoyance. When you were mad your eyes would hood over, narrowing to show only half of your pupils.

You would aways grow hot, occasionally fanning yourself as you unbuttoned the first button of your shirt. And Miguel would always stare, his chest picking up to a quicker beat. But the scowl would be set, Miguel hating the way he reacted. He shouldn’t be reacting at all. He felt pathetic, as he tried to look away.

Every time he’d fail, his gaze only shifting further down your body. Your legs were yet again…spread. An obviously comfortable position for you, but certainly not Miguel.

He’s embarrassed to admit—not that he’s ever actually—that he’s fantasised about being close to your spread legs, his hands being able to spread them further. You were a reactive girl, very hyper aware for a human. He hoped you’d stay the same when he’d touch you.

Your chest heaving, your mouth opening, as goosebumps littered your skin. Skin he’d be able to see a lot more of.

And to all these fantasies he would hate himself, and you. Sure, he was projecting. But he’d rather project anger then any of his hidden thoughts.

“Is it my turn now?” He asks, making you spin in your chair to face the exit and Miguel.

You had finally taken out your headpiece, the mission clearly completed. The spider-men would get back soon. A look of confusion flashed across your features before realisation hits. ‘His turn’. His side of the deal.

You stand, straightening your slightly crumpled shirt—you had been fisting the material in your annoyed state. Miguel ignores the thoughts of instead a crumpled sheet. Your fists clenching around, preferably, his—no. Not preferably his. He clears his head, biting his inside cheek, the metallic taste of blood now tangible.

“Follow me.” He turns, expecting you to do so.

And you do, walking past all the different spider variants in an effort to stay at Miguel’s heels.

Through the journey up the stairs, Miguel—who doesn’t know why he’s walking with you—has been having thoughts. Very…interesting thoughts. Some seeming very similar to those of ‘finding you annoyed kinda hot’ type of thoughts. It also fell back to the thoughts swirling in his head when he was looking at your lips.

He hadn’t meant to do that, his body seeming to have had a mind of its own when he leant over, caging you in.

He’s annoyed to admit—to himself—that he had wanted to kiss you. See what it felt like. Maybe he’d hate it and his strange, annoying crush on you would go.

He’s soon stopped by his room, finally glancing at you, to see that you look confused. “I thought I was doing what you asked…or whatever.” You say, slowing your breathing.

“You are.” He opens his door, walking in.

You watch him, brows still furrowed. You stay rooted to the hallway floor. “In your room?” You look around like you’ve done something terrible, and you’re gonna get caught.

“Maybe you aren’t as committed as you claim to be.”

Your eyes narrow at his blatancy. You edge closer to his cracked open door, him now fully inside. You take a deep breath before pushing it further open, then quickly shutting it behind you.

“You know, I probably shouldn’t be in here.” You mutter, staying pressed to the door, as you took in the large looking bed, messed up from his sleep, along with a window, and plain walls. There wasn’t much character and you could tell that that was very intentional.

You then shift your gaze to Miguel who had found himself a seat, relaxing back into it as he clicked his jaw. He finally met your gaze, and in the dim-ish lighting his hair looked messier, his hand most likely having ran through it.

“So…” you drift off, not meaning to come across so awkward.

He tilted his head to the side, silently asking you to come to him, as his legs spread a fraction. You ignored the want to hitch your breath, gulping it down instead.

You stare at him, not moving.

He raised a brow. “You look worried.”

“I’m not worried…just…confused.” You again force a chuckle, a forming coping mechanism around Miguel.

“I think my direction was pretty obvious. I did say it in English.” He again made himself out to be all superior.

You sigh. “I heard you. I’m just confused as to why you asked that.”

“What—did you think I asked you in here so that you’d stay plastered to my door, chaparrita?” He asked sarcastically.

You wet your lips. “Why did you ask me in here?”

“I want a massage.” He says it just so…simply.

You blink, maybe one time too many. “What?”

“A massage, y/l/n.” He says, lowering his head slightly, looking up at you through his lashes.

“Why?” You haven’t moved from the door, so, Miguel swiftly shoots a web out to attach to your shirt, yanking you forward.

You gasp, nearly tripping over your feet, as you get pulled towards him. Miguel stabilises you with a hand to your stomach, making you come to a stop in front of him. “What the hell?” You stare at him, your chest heaving in shock.

You rip the web from your shirt, quickly brushing it off. “You gave Gwen one. I heard you were good. That’s all.” Miguel says.

Your brows furrowed. “Gwen?” Then you remember. “Oh, well that’s because she just got back from a really hard mission…she was sore and I…dunno, I was bored.”

“And you don’t think I am? Sore, I mean. You do realise I take care of the multi—“

“The multiverse, yes. I haven’t forgotten. I’m just a little shocked, is all.”

“You can say no.”

You sigh. “If I want to lose my job.” You mutter, walking around him. Miguel twists his head to follow you slightly, until you stood out of his gaze, directly behind him. You pause, before gingerly placing your hands on his shoulders. Jeez, he was broad.

You closed your eyes, taking a breath. To be honest you thought his requests would be hardcore, asking you to practically run around ramped. But instead here you were alone in his room giving him a massage.

You began to add pressure. Working your fingers into the instant knots you felt.

Miguel’s eyes involuntarily rolled closed, as he accidentally leaned more into your touch. You don’t seem to notice the shift as you continue massaging by his neck and along his shoulder, veering a slightly onto the top of his back.

“I forgot to ask: where did you want the massage? I just assumed the shoulders.”

“Mm?” Miguel hums in question, sounding far away, a small heavy breath leaving his lips after.

“O’hara?” You ask, stopping your hands’ movements.

A small growl of disapproval fell from Miguel’s lips involuntarily. “Just—“ he takes a breath. “What you were doing is fine.”

You place your hands back where they were, making Miguel relax back into your fingers. You were good—Miguel thought to himself. He can’t remember the last time he released so much tension.

You lean down to Miguel’s ear, your tickling breath making him gulp. “Is there a time requirement? Because I had plans tonight.”

Miguel’s brows furrowed. “Plans? What plans?” He didn’t mean to sound so disappointed and borderline desperate, but he’s thankful you barely heard his tone as your attitude didn’t shift.

You worked your fingers closer to his chest, doing your normal routine. Your grandmother was a masseuse, and of course she had to give you some tips. It was fun being able to practice on Gwen, but with Miguel you felt nervous every time you would press down hard on a knot.

But his responses seemed to be good, considering all the quiet groans and heavy breaths.

“I made plans with spider-man—“

“That’s very descriptive.” Miguel comments, his head slightly rolling to the side.

You scoff, your fingers moving to the base of his neck, where no spider suit material could intervene. The pads of your fingers rubbing his bare skin. Miguel noticed the difference a lot quicker than you did, sounds and words of approval he really didn’t want you to hear threatening to spill.

“Dios, ¿por qué tus manos tienen que sentirse tan bien?” (God, why do your hands have to feel so good?) He muttered under his breath, not really meaning for you to catch a word, but of course you pick up ‘bien’.

“Good?” You asked. “Well, then you should put in a good word for me.” You chuckle. “Maybe I should start a small business and massage all the spider-men and woman. I think I’d do well—“

“No.” Miguel says instantly, still sounding slightly breathless. “If you want to prove yourself you can’t get distracted.” Of course that’s the reason he dislikes the idea. Definitely not because he doesn’t want your hands making others feel like this…definitely not.

“Don’t worry, it was just a hypothetical.” You say, going back to his shoulders. “Now, I hope that’s okay. Because I do need to go.” You bring your hands away, and it takes everything in Miguel not to spin around in the chair, grab your hands and ask you to massage somewhere else.

The tense knots in his shoulders were gone, his neck felt light, and he wanted to feel your fingers run along his abs. This was bad. Why was the lighting so dim, why was your scent so strong?

He spun around in his chair, meeting your gaze. “You didn’t fully answer me before. Who are meeting?”

“It was gonna be spider-man, the one with the cartoonish attitude, and now it’s just Hobie. I dunno. something about an important—“

“Hobie?” Miguel interrupts. He displayed indifference, though inside he was burning.

A weird tension began to fill the room. “Yeah, so I’ll just…go.” You say quickly passing him and opening the door, before Miguel had the (bad) mind to stop you.

You rushed out into the hallway which instantly felt lighter, letting you breathe.

You head to the main communion area, paths leading everywhere along the walls to along the roof, making it easy for a spider person to navigate but not someone who can’t stick to walls.

So you stay on the simple path, skimming through talking suited spiders until someone called your name. You spin catching sight of Peter, Mayday in his grasp.

“Hey.” You smile.

“Hey. Sorry, Hobie wanted me to tell you that he can’t catch up for that song session thing, something about getting called in for business.” Peter said, his hands going everywhere as Mayday tried to escape over the edge.

“Also picture that in an over pronounced British accent.” He gave you a thumbs up to which you chuckled.

“No worries, thanks Peter.”

“Mayday!” He suddenly yelled, to which you pointed to the left, displaying her climbing onto a spider-man’s back.

Peter rushes off. And you sigh, thinking you hurried for no reason. Though you are grateful that you could use that as an excuse to get out of Miguel’s room.

As you head to your own, you begin to wonder what this last minute mission could be about and why Hobie had been called in now. Usually the only person who calls people in, especially this last minute would be Miguel.

I guess crime never sleeps—you think to yourself—or something like that.

ahhh here’s part three!—I hope this one wasn’t too boring or not what you expected x part four is gonna be more SeXuAl, I promise

I actually don’t know how many parts I should do, coz atm it’s feeling like a slow burn, but I don’t want to drag you guys along a long ass fic so I’m not sure.

taglist: @dangerousdreamkitty @ale-maral @inosukesweirdwife @flooftoof @cynicallyaestetic @silassinclair @mariiyoushi @ilovedilfjake @toastlover21 @wlellsl @k1rbb @bitchotine @guacam011y @blnk338 @wolfiepirate @kurxxmi @corpsebridenightamare @ohantonia @yunonaneko @irenered-20 @z3r0art @sunflowercandie @perilous-pasta @gloriouskryptonitecrown @whyamistillhere78 @ritzzzsblog @mm1sta @tealcoloured-murder @aweebsimp101 @livelaughlaurv @s0dium @roguepancake @sunshiines-stuff @internal-soundtrack @oscarisdaddy69 @clairacassidy @captainquake42 @nanaloverz @ilyless @sindulgent666 @shine101 @thebadasssass @hibeejibees @nirishin @ily2lia @lillunna @cinnamoncattie @futuristicpandakid @maroonobserver @thatsopanu @edgyficuselastica @kittekat420 @stararctic @maxi-ride @renn-pumkin-head @scaraza @justanotherkpopstanlol @fauxizs @cloudsandrenoswife @ilmovor @larissa-lolll @elliemm @httpkiyoomi @j2warren @arquiiva @ilovemiguelohara @a-monster-can-filled-with-cum @fandom-gal44 @elwyn7 @albiebright @pix-stuff

#2 taglist

[vonlycsnn]

✧ — PICTURE PERFECT

~ VON LYCAON X GENDER NEUTRAL ARTIST! READER.

SUMMARY: You're a famous artist/illustrator in New Eridu, absolutely tired of trying to deal with recent problems. then you decide to call Victoria Housekeeping Co. for some help, it was the best decision of your life.

- cw/tw: none.

- A/N: im so obsessed over this man its genuinely concerning, pls help. also this might be messy/ooc(?)...it's my first time writing this kinda stuff so bare with me.

Being such a well-known artist in New Eridu is tough work. Not only do you have to keep up with your clients' demands and expectations, you also have to deal with thieves trying to steal your work. 

You were thankful that some of your most valuable artworks were in museums that had incredible security, but even so, those bastards are still trying to break into your mansion and steal your canvases that have yet to be delivered or even unfinished.

Understandably, you grew tired of all the stuff you went through, slowly becoming restless from the amount of sleepless nights you had to fight through. To the point where you wanted to quit art completely but you just couldn't. Art was your passion. You've been drawing for nearly your entire life; you couldn't quit now.

Thankfully, a kind client of yours took notice of your situation and recommended Victoria Housekeeping to you. At first you were skeptical; there's no way a housekeeping company could help you with these problems, right?

—

"I don't think they'll be able to help me..." you kindly said. The client merely smiled and gave you a pat on the shoulder.

"Just give them a call. Trust me."

—

And here you are now, constantly being served and protected by the members of Victoria Housekeeping. You were extremely grateful for their service; they've made your life so much better than you expected. 

You've grown so close to them that you became one of their most respected clients, having to be close friends with each of the members. You didn't want to say that you had a favorite attendant, but you do have a preferred one. 

Rina, although her general services are incredible and you'd always find yourself having a great time with her, her culinary skills are...questionable at best, but still, you didn't want to upset her by any means. 

Corin is a sweet girl. When the two of you became acquainted, you saw her as a little sister. Although you were surprised at how strong she is for her age, you didn't think much of it. The problem with her is how much she doubts herself; you'd have to constantly remind her that she's not doing anything wrong, and as much as you hate to admit it, you were pretty annoyed.

Ellen, well...she isn't too enthusiastic about regular housekeeping jobs, not to mention she's always low-energy. But the number of times she saved you from the most dangerous situations was enough for her to gain your respect. Plus, talking about internet trends with her is always fun.

And there's Lycaon. Oh, did you have so many words about him. To keep it simple, he was just right. His services are always near perfect; he has saved you countless times from hollows and thieves; he is elegant; he is a gentleman; you could ramble about him all day for all you cared.

To be perfectly honest, you grew a crush on him. Every time he'd lean behind you to see what you're working on, you'd always freeze in place. Too flustered by what was happening. Every time you'd hear his voice, you'd melt. The way he acts just makes your heart flutter...He was perfect.

As your own personal request for him, you wished he'd spend more time with you. Be it in the mansion or outside. He smiled, bowing down in front of you.

—

"As you wish, master. I'm more than happy to spend time with an amazing artist such as yourself." He said. You saw his tail wagging ever so slightly, but decided to say nothing; you merely smiled.

—

Every now and then he'd come to your office to check on you; he'd bring you food every time you lost track of time; he'd give you a massage whenever you had free time.

"It's always important to maintain a good posture, master." As he would say.

But being an attendant for a full-time artist comes with its own challenges. Other than having to constantly be on guard at night for possible thieves, he'd always let out an irritated sigh whenever he saw your workspace covered in paint. Especially when you're making abstract art. But he understands that art can be messy sometimes, and that's fine.

Every time you get a commission to make abstract art, you'd always rent a workspace outside of the mansion. Just so Lycaon doesn't have to deal with the mess.

But other than that, the two of you were grateful for each other's company.

Much to your dismay, however, your feelings for him grew the longer you spent time with him. You became so close to Lycaon than any of the other attendants; he knew your weakness, he knew your strengths, and he even knew some of your secrets.

You couldn't express your feelings for him with words, and so you did what you knew best: to draw. As a request, you asked Lycaon if you could take a few pictures of him. Of course he obliged. Amidst the photography, he asked.

"If I were to be bold to ask, master, what is the purpose of this?"

You merely smiled at him, saying that it's nothing important. A part of him knew about what you're planning, but he decided to keep quiet and merely chuckled.

After the interaction, you quickly but stealthily took a small canvas and a few of your painting supplies.

—

Days passed, and the painting was finally ready. You have pulled many all-nighters to finish this; you spent so much time carefully adding details and capturing his looks to the formerly blank canvas. And you couldn't be happier with the results; you just hope it was enough to make him understand the message you're trying to pass.

You took a deep breath and finally called for him. He quickly arrives at your workspace, noticing the medium-sized easel and the small paint stains on the floor. Your back was facing towards him, trying to hide the painting from his view. Realizing what to do, you flipped the canvas and turned towards him. He was understandably confused, and you were too nervous to say anything. You quickly walked up to him and handed the canvas to him.

"Here. I...made this for you." You said in such a shaky voice, he was almost concerned. But he gently grabs the canvas, and finally, he turns it to reveal the drawing. He was... speechless. Absolutely speechless. Just standing there, appreciating what he's seeing. You stuttered, trying to get words out of your mouth.

"...as a way to express how much I'm thankful for everything you've done. You're an amazing attendant, and I wanted to repay you somehow. W-well, other than using money." You awkwardly laughed, fidgeting with your fingers.

Lycaon continues to silently admire your work of him. You captured his features so well; the colors were so nice to look at, the pose, the lighting... it was so beautiful. He always appreciates the time and effort you put into your artwork. Secretly, he has been going to your workspace at night to admire all of the work you've done. He couldn't help but laugh once he saw how red your face was.

"My sincere apologies, master. But if I may ask, what are you trying to say?" He asked, almost in a teasing matter. Oh, he knows.

You panicked, so overwhelmed by the situation at hand. A part of you is trying to come up with lies, but ultimately, you gave in.

After taking a deep breath, you officially admitted your true feelings. Well, in the simplest way possible. You couldn't help but cringe at what you've said. This is so embarrassing, you thought.

Lycaon smiled, looking back at the painting to caress the sides of the canvas. He chuckled once more.

"What an astonishing way to express such feelings towards someone. I must say, master, I'm truly impressed."

The thiren carefully puts the canvas on a small table next to him, then he walks towards you. Gently grabbing your hand.

"As for what are my thoughts regarding all of this," he then proceeds to kiss the back of your hand. You jumped to his action, watching every move he made. He looked back at you softly.

There you heard it—the words that'd make you fall to the ground instantly.

"I'd be delighted to be more than an attendant for you, my dear."

[dioll]

୨ 𝑢𝑛𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑 — 엔하이픈 형들 ୧

♡ 𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾 ・（𝑔𝑛）𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𓍢 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 ⊹ 𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖼𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𖥔 𝑤𝑐 𝟨𝟣𝟤 ┊ 𝑎𝑟𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑣𝑒 𐙚 — 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇

𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝖺𝗒 ．．．

𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 — 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾

you’ve just stepped out of the shower, craving rest more than ever. sealing your evening routine with comfy pajamas, prepared to sink yourself into the softness of your bed.

“love, what’s wrong? you look exhausted.”

“long day, hee. i need to hibernate.”

chuckling at your response, heeseung wraps himself around your tired figure, gently stroking your back whilst placing light kisses on forehead.

“let me help you recharge, angel.”

rest under the cut

𝐉𝐀𝐘 — 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾

“i thought you said that you weren’t gonna wash your hair?” he asks you, as you exit the bathroom.

“i just rinsed it. my arms are too tired for my hair to be washed right now.” you reply.

“you know im here for a reason, let me help?”

jay sits you down on a chair, lathering his hands with shampoo before he begins to message your scalp.

he takes his time, removing every knot and excess oil, whilst being gentle. you feel safe with him.

“thank you, jay. i really needed this.”

“you can always rely on me, princess. i love you.”

𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 — 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗂𝖼𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗌

you lay relaxed on your bed, resting your eyes after a hectic week, prepared for the weekend.

that’s until jake barges in your room and flings himself onto your bed, hitting his elbow against your headboard.

“OUCH.” he winces in pain, dropping the tiny bottles in his hand.

“mhm, carry on acting stupid.” you say to him, scanning his arm for any injuries.

“ooh you love me.” he lightly pushes your arm in attempt to tease you.

“yeah yeah i do! what’s with the nail polish?”

“you haven’t done your nails due to how busy you’ve been. i’m worried for you, my love. make time for yourself, alright?” eyes gleaming at you with sincerity.

“i will, yun. thank you for caring about me.” you say before kissing his forehead.

“give me your hands, i’ll do it better than any nail artist.” he says, voiced laced with confidence.

you look at him with heart eyes, grateful for someone who’s there for you, even during tough times.

“i love you so much, jaeyun.”

“i love you the most, y/n.”

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 — 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗌

you’ve been busy all day, just waiting for time to pass. all you wanted was your bed, and sunghoon.

the day comes to an end, and you’re prepared for a deep slumber but the discomfort in your back restricts you from sleeping comfortably.

trying multiple things to soothe your pain, none of them help. you lay on your stomach, eyes teary and nose runny. you’ve reached your limit.

your soft sniffles are heard by your boyfriend. he peeks through the slightly ajar door, looking at your hopeless figure.

he slowly enters the room, gently caressing your cheek, wiping the tears away. he pulls you into his arms, feeling safer than ever knowing that he’ll always keep you away from harm.

“what’s wrong, angel?” he asks, staring at you with concern.

“my back hurts a lot, and nothing is helping.” you reply to his question.

“why didn’t you come to me? you know i’ll always be more than happy to take care of you?”

you remain silent. you know he’s correct.

he gently lays you flat on your stomach, slowly massaging your back. at that moment, you feel your pain being lifted. relief comes to you, easing your body and mind. making it easier for you to sleep.

a smile grows on his lips once he sees you asleep, happy to know that you can now sleep with ease.

he covers your body with a blanket, kissing your tear stained cheek.

“love you so much, sleep well, dove.” he says as he switches off the lamp on your nightstand, before departing to bed with you.

♡・ @elysianiki @jwsdoll @flwrstqr @moknu @onlyjjong @jlheon @lcvclywon @hyeinism @junislqve @amouriu @jjunae @nishislcve @luvlyhee @mimiuius @jongocat

[rafeshoeeee]

Best friends brother

I had been best friends with Sarah Cameron for as long as i could remember. Our families go way back and had known each other for years.

Sarah is the kook princess, everyone knows her and everyone loves her. She's dating Topper Thornton, her brother's best friend. They're constantly arguing with each other and it's so tiring. Topper is very short tempered and gets annoyed by Sarah's friendliness towards everybody. I have to tolerate Topper as he's around most of the time, but i have my reasons why he's not my favorite.

Sarah's older brother Rafe is just so dreamy. Due to me being very close with Sarah he has to put up with me constantly being around, but deep down i know he doesn't mind that one bit.

I've known Rafe since he was a stroppy 9 year old boy. I've watched his mannerisms change over the years as he developed into the person he is.

We never really took any notice of each other when we were younger, but once we both matured, we couldn't keep our hands off of each other.

We had gotten much closer over the past two years and everyone had noticed. We spoke more at parties, laughed together, got drunk together and behind closed doors we did things we know we shouldn't.

But we just couldn't help it.

I wanted him because i knew i couldn't have him.

i remember when i first developed a little crush for him a couple of years ago, and i would get upset every time he brought a new girl home. Which was usually once a week, sometimes more. But overtime this bad habit had worn off once we started getting closer.

We are actually dating now but it's a massive secret. No one can know, and that's what makes it exciting. Sneaking around together gives both of us a buzz that's indescribable.

I used to tell myself that i would never do anything to ruin mine and Sarah's friendship, yet here i was laying in her brothers bed with nothing but his t-shirt and my pink panties on. My body pressed up against Rafe's bare chest, my finger nail tracing shapes on his right bicep. His arms lazily draped around my waist and had been for most of the night.

It was early morning in the Outer Banks and i had been awake for a little while, just watching Rafe peacefully sleep, looking so calm and relaxed. I listened to his slow heart beat gently bump in his chest, calming me also.

I watched him as he blinked his eyes open, adjusting to the light that beamed through the curtains. I placed a couple of gentle kisses along his jawline to let him know i was awake before nuzzling my head back into his chest.

His hand gently stroked my hair and i felt his lips kiss the top of my head, making me smile to myself. I loved mornings like this, Rafe being all soft compared to his usual tough boy act. No one ever saw this loving side to him and that's why everyone thinks he's a hot headed maniac. Most people only see his bad moments as he doesn't let his guard down very easily, but i was so grateful he chose me to be like this with.

"morning baby" i whispered to him, propping myself up onto my elbows so i could look at his face.

He squinted at me, his eyes still not adjusted to the light. He slowly removed his arm from around my waist and rubbed his eyes with his hand. I lightly laughed at his action, knowing that he wasn't a morning person but he was trying his best.

"morning beautiful" he replied, his voice slightly cracking due to him not being fully awake yet.

I just looked at him with loving eyes, wondering how i got so lucky. My heart fluttered in my chest at his compliment and how sexy he sounded with his morning voice.

I cupped his right cheek gently and connected our lips, the kisses were gentle and passionate, full of warmth and love.

I could feel Rafe's hands traveling down my body and they stopped at my bum, squeezing the flesh, causing me to giggle into his mouth and our lips separating.

"Rafeee" i squealed from his unexpected gesture.

Before i could say anything else, Rafe grabbed my chin and reconnected our lips, the kisses still so gentle and soft.

As much as i wanted to stay in bed all morning with Rafe, cuddling with him and absorbing all his body heat. I couldn't risk getting caught in here and he knew that. A lot of the time we spend together has to get cut short and it's so annoying because all we want to do is be together every minute of every day. But we just can't.

I struggled to pull away from Rafe as he knew what time it was. He knew i had to leave and scurry off to the guest bedroom and act like i didn't spend all night and all morning laying in his bed.

He groaned out of frustration and peppered kisses all over my face. I giggled at his clinginess, "baby i have to go" i told him firmly but softly, looking at him with an apologetic expression.

I hated leaving him in the mornings when he's all cute and precious. He grabbed my body and pulled me into him, not wanting to let me go, "just five more minutes" he groaned out, wrapping his big arms around my small frame. He made me feel so comfortable and safe but now really wasn't the time, any minute now Sarah would wake up and come searching for me.

I untangled myself from his arms and quickly jumped out of bed. The slightly cold air pricked my skin, goosebumps appearing on my arms. I searched the room for my pjs, needing to change into them. I know Sarah would think me wondering around in her brother's top is strange and i don't want to cause any suspicion.

"look away" i told Rafe, about to pull his top over my head.

He jokingly scoffed, "your kidding right? I've seen you naked plenty of times"

He's right, but i knew i wouldn't be able to resist his lustful stare as i stripped in the middle of his bedroom. However, i didn't have to time to argue with him over such a silly thing, so i just pulled his top over my head, leaving me in just my pink panties.

My hand instantly shot over my bare breasts as i hurried to pull my own floral pajama top over my head.

"don't cover yourself up sweetheart, let me see you" Rafe demanded, i could tell he had a huge smirk on his lips, despite me not looking his way.

His seductive voice turned me on so much, i loved the way he made me feel. He made me feel like the only girl in the world and he treated me like a goddess.

I dropped my arm from breasts and let them free, perfectly on display for Rafe to eye. I looked over at him and saw him lick his lips.

"such pretty tits" he blurted out, running a hand over his buzzed hair, clearly overstimulated.

I smirked to myself as i pulled my top over my head. I loved how much control i had over him. The way he just drowned me in compliments all of the time made me feel so confident.

i teasingly bent down to grab my pajama shorts, my ass in perfect view for Rafe to see. I heard him grunt from behind me and i quickly stepped into my shorts before turning to face him.

"everything okay baby?" i asked him with a devious smirk on my lips.

He chuckled to himself, "you're such a little tease" he laughed softly and readjusted himself under the covers.

I quickly leant over him to give him a quick peck on the lips before exiting his room. I felt his hand slap my ass and i looked at back at him with wide eyes.

"i love you" i told him before opening his bedroom door to leave.

He smiled at my words and responded, "i love you more baby"

I gently shut Rafe's bedroom door behind me and i quickly scurried to the guest bedroom three doors down. I opened the door, the bed was freshly made and the windows were ajar, a little breeze blowing the curtains. I rolled onto the bed and buried myself underneath the covers, making it look like i had spent the night here.

I missed Rafe already. I missed hearing him breathe in my ear, i missed the feeling of his lips on mine and peppering my skin and i missed the way he looked at me. I couldn't put into words the amount of love i feel for him, and i fall in love with him more and more every single day. I couldn't imagine my life without him.

I adored him so much and never understood how anyone can be mean to him. I understood that he doesn't appear to be the friendliest person on the planet but i believe that you have to give everyone a chance. i took my chance with Rafe and it was one hundred percent worth it.

I opened my phone and typed a message to Rafe,

Me: I miss you baby x

He responded almost immediately, a mirror picture of him with a towel wrapped around his waist. His v line peeking over the top and little water droplets running down his abs. There was text at the bottom stating, i miss you too baby girl

My core was aching for him, he knew i loved him like this.

I quickly went into the guest bathroom that was attached to the bedroom and pulled my tiny pajama shorts down. I snapped a picture of my ass, it was slightly covered by my tiny pink thong, but it was perfect. He knew exactly how to turn me on, and i knew exactly how to turn him on.

Rafe started typing and his message read,

Rafe: fuck baby, i need you

That was it. As soon as i received that message, i quickly pulled my shorts on. i exited the guest room and headed straight for Rafe's. My hand reached the door knob but before i could turn it and enter the room I heard my name.

"y/n? what are you doing?" Sarah asked, confusion written all over her face.

My face dropped.

Shit.

[areislol]

patting their head out of nowhere

ft— blade, gepard, dan heng, jing yuan, yanqing, luocha, welt, sampo

warning — none, just fluff! might be ooc, established relationship, gn! reader, mentions of killing, platonic for yanqing, characters in order

a/n— first hsr post omgggggg!! as i stated in the warning the characters might be a bit ooc because it's my first time writing for them so.. it's short im sorry :(

wordcount. 2.2k

blade 刃

✧ he was just crouching down when you, out of the blue, start patting his head.

✧ blade turns his head up to look at you, mans just.. staring at you with such cold eyes. watching as you pat his head, he's... ugh *cue a deep and "annoyed" sigh*

✧ "what is it now, Y/N?" he asks in an annoyed tone, and honestly, he could've just stood up or removed your hand from his head but he didn't. weird, isn't it? blade lets you continue your nonsense as he crouches there, pressing his lips into a thin line as people pass by, giggling and pointing at you two. they were probably talking about how cute you two were.. a tall, scary guy getting head pats from someone who isn't to scary looking. how adorable! ♡

✧ he watches you intensely with piercing eyes, but you know that there is a small glint of softness seeping out of his mask.

✧ blade doesn't really like pda out in the public but, a head pat? pfft- that's not even big! why would he be affected by something to small? so he doesn't care. (but he really does, because ohmygosh! it's you!! you're giving him head pats, so so adorable!)

✧ he doesn't mind anything when it comes to you.. but if somebody who's not you starts patting his head, they'd be dead on the ground already.

✧ whenever someone (like jing yuan) notices this cute interaction and give him a smirk and mouth "aww" he rolls his eyes and stares into their soul, because when you're done he may or may not try to kill them later <;33

✧ (blade tells you to not do that in public once you're done, but when you're both together in private he asks, in a very embarrassed tone, if you could give him some head pats.)

✧ he grumbles and mutters under his breath, something along the lines of "i can't believe it." when you smile and pat his head, he's trying to act all tough and act like he isn't affected by your actions but it's really hard to when heat rushes to his cheeks and a pink hue suddenly appears on his cheeks.

✧ "what? i'm red? don't be so ridiculous ...."

gepard 傑帕德

✧ he blinks at you in confusion when you stand on your tippy toes and gesture for him to come down to your level, when he does, you start to pat his head. ah, there it is. the flustered and confused gepard.

✧ "ohmygoshyou'resoadorablehowcanonebesocute!!!" literally his thoughts right now as you pat his head and gush over how soft his hair is, gepard is quite literally on cloud nine.

✧ gepard sort of.. malfunctions? his cheeks are so red and hot he thinks he may faint from your head pats. he freezes when you first place your hand on his head but within a few seconds he immediately melts in your touches and smiles up at you.

✧ gepard loves receiving pda from you. whether it be something small or not. he loves knowing the fact that everybody knows that you two are together from these simple loving acts. he allows you to continue patting his head (as if he could stop you) and you can see how he's blushing like crazy.

✧ he looks like a cute puppy boy who loves getting head pats (because he does) and his adorable red face makes your heart melt. once you're done with patting his head, he immediately grabs onto your hand and for a second he pauses before he slowly puts your hand down, he blushes and looks at you in an embarrassed way

✧ "i.. is it alright if you continue this later? when we're alone..?"

dan heng 丹恆

✧ hghfffffff are you trying to kill this man? could this interaction not be any cuter!?!?!? <- dan heng freaking out internally as you pat his head. dan chuckles softly and sighs in delight.

✧ dan LOVES it when you give him affection, in the public or not. if you hold his hands, he will blush, if you give him a peck on the cheek, he will blush, if you link arms with him, he will blush, if you- (you get the idea..)

✧ "truly, Y/N, you're so cute.." dan sighs, closing his eyes as you continued to pat and run your fingers through his hair. if he was a cat right now, he would be purring loudly. like, really loud.

✧ he doesn't care if his friends see him like this, it's adorable, is it not? if anything he'd smile happily at whoever's passing by or at his friends and mouth "im in heaven-uh!!" while pointing at you patting his head.

✧ your head pats give him some soft of comfort, it's like you're praising him, by patting his head. and he would love nothing more than you patting his head after doing something successfully or winning a duel.

✧ when your hands leave his head he immediately grabs your hand and places it back on his head. "don't stop, i like it." and how could you refuse? (you can't, that's the thing)

✧ so you spent like 20 or more minutes just patting his head, your hand was getting slightly tired and when he noticed how sloppy your movements were getting he let out a soft sigh and stood up, smiling down at you.

✧ "thank you for spoiling me, love. lets go get some food yeah? how about your favourite?"

jing yuan 景元

✧ he raises his brows at you in confusion and amusement. he doesn't say anything though, only staring at you with those pretty eyes and watching you pat and rub his head.

✧ slowly, his lips curve into a smirk. "dear, what are you doing? giving me head pats.. interesting.." his tone is so teasing for what reason.. jing yuan is a general, so whatever he does affects his reputation and his image, but he really doesn't care when it comes to you.

✧ like when yanqing comes running to jing yuan, looking at you patting his master's head. he's obviously thinking "what.. on earth..?" and opens his mouth to speak but jing cuts him off. "what are you here for, yanqing? im currently busy with my partner."

✧ huhu, he's such a tease, asking you why you're giving him head pats, asking if you're doing this to get his attention or something.. you can only shut him up with a chaste kiss to his lips to which he blushes at.

✧ he sighs softly and closes his eyes. taking in the calm breeze and the nice head pats you're giving, jing yuan won't really voice that he's enjoying this, but maybe his soft hums that escape his lips will tell you.

✧ but in the end when the head pat session is over, he smiles tenderly at you and leans forward to give you a quick kiss on your cheek. "i enjoyed your little head pats.. maybe you should do it more often."

✧ he gives you head pats in return as well!! it's only fair, right? once you're done with your head pats it's his turn, you're surprised at first since you didn't expect him to do that but you don't complain. his eyes soften as he sees how you're enjoying this, a faint blush on his cheeks as he continued to pat your head. you're so adorable.. it's truly a blessing to have you in his life.

✧ "it's only fair, is it not? you give me head pats and i give you them as well.."

yanqing 彥卿

✧ he looks at you in confusion as you pat his head, was this some sort of reward for finally hitting 5,000 strikes on a practice dummy? either way, he lets you continue patting his head.

✧ yanqing thinks that it'll be over soon but.. nope. you continue to pat his head and he just continues to stare at you, giving you a nervous smile when your eyes meet his. "ah.. Y/N, why..?" he stops himself from talking when you stop moving your hands, did he upset you?

✧ but when he realizes that you only stopped because you thought that it was making him uncomfortable, he immediately reassures you that he wasn't uncomfortable, only... confused.

✧ when you explain that you just wanted to give him a head pat (maybe as a reward for doing such a good job) he nods his head and speaks again. "you.. can continue if you want. i dont mind. just tell me next time, okay?"

✧ he knows that he made the right choice when he sees your eyes light up as you start to pat his head again. yanqing is slightly embarrassed when he sees that jing yuan notices what you're doing to him

✧ yan smiles awkwardly at jing and he's sweating BALLS because now the general, his master!! is seeing him in a situation that.. could make him be seen as vulnerable.

✧ he eventually stops you and apologizes, saying that he has to go do something (he really does) and that he doesn't mind if you pat his head next time, probably somewhere jing yuan doesn't frequent.

luocha 羅剎

✧ ah.. he expected you to do something like that. he doesn't really mind it, if anything he loves it! he smiles tenderly as he relaxes in your touch, sighing softly. "mm, i do enjoy this, why head pats all of the sudden?"

✧ when you explain that you just felt like it, he lets out a hum and nods his head. luocha continues doing what he was doing before, it was quite hard to concentrate, yes, but he didn't have the heart to stop you so..

✧ luocha likes receiving pda from you, mostly in private though, but as of right now you two are alone so he doesn't care what you do to him. and if you don't mind, maybe he could return the head pats (and more) as well?

✧ he actually enjoys the head pats, and he actually voiced it as well!! and when you tease him about it you notice a faint pink hue appear on his cheeks.. so cute..

✧ if you give him head pats out in public though, he might stop you if you go on for too long. but don't worry, he will allow you to do it for however long you want to once you two are home.

✧ he's so soft for you honestly, so expect head pats back. when you're done you turn away but suddenly he starts to pat your head back and you're just like ??? you're still and everything

✧ luocha chuckles softly at your reaction and smiled tenderly at you. "how cute of you, i must give you something in return, no?"

welt 瓦爾特

✧ ".... what are you doing..?"

✧ he's so confused i swear, staring at you dumbfounded and slightly annoyed when you pat his head. he lets out a huff and goes back to his activity. he could care less about what you're doing to him and doesn't mind what others think.

✧ welt is unbothered by you, allowing you to continue your head patting and you're glad that he's not that affected by your actions.

✧ welt glares at anybody who's giggling and pointing at you two. like, mind your own business.

✧ he looks like a grumpy dad and sighs sadly. "why... are you.. nevermind."

✧ you might think that he isn't enjoying it and he has to put up with you everyday, which, he does. but he is enjoying it. anything you do to him he absolutely loves and cherishes. you think he'll forget about the head pats? absolutely not, once you two go home he's asking you to massage and run your fingers through his hair after showering.

✧ "dearest, could i trouble you to do what you did to me earlier today, right now? i.. enjoyed it.."

sampo 桑博

✧ smiles like a mad man!! you're just so adorable.. how could he not?? sampo's smiling like crazy when u give him head pats <;33

✧ "oh? what's my little dove doing?" he says in a teasing tone (?? he likes teasing u hhh)

✧ his heart is beating so fast you can probably hear it if you were to lean in closer to his chest. not only that but he's B.L.U.S.H.I.N.G. face red like a tomato as you run your fingers through his hair.

✧ sampo will NEVER stop you from giving him affection (especially kisses and linking hands with you) so when you give him head pats he allows you to instead of stopping you.. and you're doing this in public too.. not that anything's wrong with that!!

✧ he pulls you in closer by your waist!! smirking as he hears you yelp from surprise. "what~ did that surprise you?"

✧ sampo could care less about the stares he gets from people/his friends, why should he be? everybody in the world should know about your relationship!

✧ please don't stop the head pats :(( he's literally begging you to not stop because its just so comforting to him ♡ if you do stop he won't pressure you to continue but he'll probably pout for a good 20 minutes before he finally smiles again when you kiss his cheek.

✧ he loves the head pats. so he hopes that you will continue giving him head pats in the future <;33

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another note: first hsr post!!! also i got my glasses today and uhm i kinda hate it but yk what, my eyesight is so much better so...

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!