#hes learned to gently gnaw on you now

[fatuismooches]

SMOOCHES!! Hello hello again my cherub!! ૮꒰ ˶´ ꒳ `˶꒱ა

Fair warning: suggestive content!! I mean this in the fluffiest non horniest way possible but I think after some time that fragile!reader wakes up, they’ll feel down and like a burden. And I’m sure that there are always many days where they feel undesired or that they’re not as good looking as they were before in the Akademiya. Making them wonder if Dottore would even want them in such an intimate act. But I like to think that Zandik shoots down their ideas and decides to show them just how much they mean to them. I can only imagine that the first time that they do have intimacy after so many years have passed that it would be so so gentle and soft :(( maybe a few tears here and there from the fact that Zandik still loves them despite the changes their body has gone through and how it continues to deteriorate. And Dottore probably praises them in the way that he can, the Dottore way LOL. They probably couldn’t let Zandik go after that and they probably had him stay in bed with him. (Despite Dottore’s constant protests of wanting to check their vitals and make sure such an act didn’t affect them negatively. But it’s all sort of an excuse as he actually does want to stay 😭!!!) but yeah I like to think their first time was probably so tender and sweet especially with how frail fragile!reader is. And Dottore probably makes them always look at him so they can see just how perfect they are and that there’s no reason to hide from. He’s your husband :( why would you want to hide yourself from the only person you have now in this world. When he shows his love and care for you, he absolutely means it. (Also they 100% got bitten AT LEAST once during it.)

But you can completely ignore this if you’re not comfortable with adding on/writing about it completely understand smooches <33 but I hope you have an absolutely wonderful day and week!! December is almost here!! >_<

-from your dear boo boo bear 🎐 anon! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

IM SOBBING GOOD NIGHT (Warning: Under the cut for suggestive content, nothing explicit is mentioned though. Also reader has some insecurities about their body/looks.)

OH MY GOSH I REALLY CAN'T I JUST LOVE THIS TREMENDOUSLY 😭😭💗 i know the majority of people write him as being pretty rough and mean during this (which is totally understandable lmao) but!! i just want to think about him being soft!! Especially with his darling fragile lover!! :(

Though you were always a bit self-conscious, it only amplified after you came down with your illness, and especially after you woke up. It was just... genuinely hard to look at yourself sometimes and you couldn't help but compare yourself to other people. There were so much other pretty people in the Fatui, noble too, and Dottore could surely have any of them if he tried. Especially since he was exceptionally handsome himself. But instead, he was stuck with you, the one who was still so plain and ordinary, not attractive in the slightest. At least that's what you thought. So you shied away from your lover as much as possible. You couldn't bear to see the look on his face once he finally saw you for who you were. No one special.

Though Dottore is an extremely observant man so your thoughts won't go unnoticed for long. And he just doesn't understand. Why would you see yourself in that way? He thinks you're beautiful. And that's not just him speaking, no, he can prove it scientifically too (which manages a small chuckle out of you, but he's dead serious.) Even still, you two don't engage in intimacy until a long time later, but when you do it's very... well, uncharacteristically romantic. He's very prepared, considering how he must make sure he doesn't hurt or overwhelm your already frail body with it. Has to stop every now and then because you cry from all the emotions that you're feeling. Because sometimes you still can't believe that someone like him could love someone as insignificant as you.

You're definitely pretty weak after that, but you still muster all your strength to cling to him. And although you're not strong enough to hold him down your eyes beg and plead for him to stay with you. He's so warm too. And his arms are so comfortable and run over the sore parts of your body so nicely. So you beg him to just stay for a bit... just a bit more... well, he doesn't have to wait long because you're out like a light rather quickly. At least now you can't hide your beauty from him. He can gaze at you all he wants, and gaze he will.

I love this so so much 🎐 anon! He's just so *screams* i hope you're doing well my lovely 🎐 anon!! And yes December is almost here hehe (and my hands are constantly being frozen every day now 😨)

[rafeandonlyrafe]

first moments

words: 1.5k

warnings: mom!reader, dad!rafe, established relationship, brief hospital setting, anxiety (from rafe)

“rafe, wanna do chest to chest?” you hum, eyes mostly closed, the exhaustion from labor still affecting you.

“i…” he stares at you, and then at your son, resting against your chest, maternity dress pulled open so he's against your skin, his face resembling the exact same one rafe makes when he's sleeping. “its okay, you keep holding him.”

“okay.” you say, looking down at your son. it didn't take you long to decide on a name. leon andres cameron. leon after rafes grandfather and andres after your own. a good strong family name. 

“he's so perfect.” rafe whispers, his voice cracking slightly.

“come closer.” you beckon, rafe moving his chair closer, but still keeping his distance, making you frown. “what's wrong?”

rafes mouth opens, but no words come out. you pause, hand petting over leons back.

“wait…” your mind starts to piece together, still foggy from the delivery and drugs. “you haven't held him yet.”

“i-” rafe stumbles over his words, knowing he's been caught. “i can't. he's too tiny. too perfect. i-i don't want to ruin him.”

“ruin him?” you frown. “rafe, you're his father. get over here.”

you struggle to scooch over on the hospital bed, but manage to make room for rafe to sit down next to you. he even sits carefully, gnawing at his lip as you turn leon over, keeping him asleep as you turn him face up, supporting his neck the whole time.

“just cradle your arms. it's okay, you'll get used to it.” you watch as rafe moves his arms before placing leon in them, having to cover your mouth when the sudden urge to cry hits you, leon looking even smaller being held by your husband.

“i love him.” rafe whispers, voice cracking, a few tears sliding down his cheeks. “i love him so much.”

“look how relaxed he is in your arms.” you coo. “i knew you'd be a good dad.”

--

“god, im so nervous.” rafe looks in the backseat where you’re sitting, leon buckled tight into the carseat.

“its okay.” you hum, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “just drive slow.” “yeah, of course.” rafe nods. he barely puts the car above 15 miles per hour the entire ride home. leon thankfully stays asleep, you’re not sure if you could have handled just leaving the hospital and having him crying on the way home.

“okay, here.” rafe takes a deep breath as he pulls the car into the garage.

“you got his carseat?” you ask. your body is still recovering from birth, and you’re not sure if you can lift anything up without tearing.

“yeah.” rafe undoes the carseat carefully as you get out and unlock the house, happy to be home after two days spent in the hospital.

“mmm.” you breathe in the fresh air. “my eyes are so happy after all that fluorescent light.”

“um- watch out baby.” rafe hates having to have you move out of the way so quickly, but he can hear leon beginning to fuss and needs to get him inside.

you giggle and step away, watching as rafe quickly rushes to unbuckle him. he looks to you to get him out of the carrier, but you allow rafe to scoop him up, shushing him and gently rocking him back and forth.

--

“i got it.” rafe offers.

“no, he's hungry.” you groan, already feeling your breasts swelling with milk just from hearing his cry. “i can tell.”

“im sorry, baby.” rafe sighs, staying in bed as he tries to get back to sleep. no point having both of you completely exhausted.

you manage to settle leon, feeding him in the rocking chair rafe got you before you gave birth. he almost wakes when you transfer him back to the crib, but you get him down and back to rafe, crawling into bed next to him.

“i wish i could do more.” rafe sighs. so much of you is required from leon, not just the pregnancy but now needing to feed him. rafe tries to take care of anything else you could need, but he struggles with not knowing how to do things as basic as changing diapers.

“you're learning fast, rafe. it's okay.” you move closer so rafe can hold you, snuggling into your back, his hand gently rubbing over your hip.

“i don't deserve you.” you know it's just the exhaustion talking. you grip his hand in yours, squeezing three times, saying the words without needing to speak.

“we should sleep while he's asleep.” you say, rafe nodding and pressing kisses to your shoulders and upper back until you're pulled back to sleep.

--

“shh, leon, it's okay.” rafe looks around for you, surely you must have heard leons cries. you said you'd be just a minute, running to the beauty aisle to grab your conditioner before returning to rafe shopping for groceries.

rafe pushes the brim of the carrier back, his heart breaking as his sons little face scrunches with big tears rolling down his cheeks.

rafe isn't sure what to do, so he just lets his instincts guide him as he quickly undoes the seatbelt and lifts leon into his chest, being careful to hold his head just as you instructed.

the second leon is against rafes, his cries lessen, and then all together subside as rafe bounces gently.

“is he okay?” rafe looks up to see you hustling down the aisle towards him.

“yeah, he was upset but i got him.” rafe pats leons back gently, turning his head to press a kiss against his cheek.

“okay.” you let out a sigh of relief, tossing your conditioner into the grocery cart. “want me to take him?”

“no, im good.” rafe shifts leon a little as you start to walk, pushing the carrier and loading the bottom up with more groceries, especially all the things you couldn't have while pregnant but are now safe despite still breastfeeding.

rafe doesn't miss the way you keep looking over at him with light in your eyes, excitement evident at seeing how comfortable rafe is becoming with leon held snuggly in his arms.

--

“are you sure?” you ask, frowning as your eyes flicker between leon laying on the couch cushion and rafe sitting next to him, focus on your baby as he makes silly faces at him.

“baby, i know i struggled at first, but this is one weekend. you have plenty of milk pumped. ill be fine.” rafe scoops leon into his arms as he stands, walking towards you.

“besides, if i need help i can always call your mom. even wheezie, you know she'll be happy to see leon.” rafe shifts the baby to one arm while his free hand comes to cup your cheek. “go. please, i will miss you and leon will too, but you deserve a break.”

“okay.” you nod, getting on your tip toes to press a kiss to rafes lips before also kissing leon, who lets out a familiar cooing sound.

“im gonna text my girls.” you can't hide the excitement in your voice, pulling out your phone to confirm you'll be able to go to the girls spa weekend away. 

“i want nightly face times with you though baby.” you poke leons little nose, whose cheeks stretch into a smile.

--

“oh my god, rafe, is everything okay?” you squeal, squinting at the screen as if it'll somehow make leon appear.

“yes! fine, i promise.” rafe points the camera down so you can see leon happily on his lap, already looking tired as bedtime is quickly approaching.

“why didn't you pick up the first time?” you ask, a lot calmer now that you have eyes on your baby.

“leon and i were just getting home. i took him to the park. he couldn't really do anything but be in the carrier but he liked watching the other kids play.” rafe looks down at leon, giving him a little tickle under the chin. “isn't that right buddy?”

“did you-”

“yes, i put sunscreen on him. and he wore a hat. and-” rafe stresses before you can interrupt. “i reapplied sunscreen after an hour.”

“you're the best.” you smile. “you know i never doubted you rafe, it's just-” you take a deep sigh. “i worry so much about him. and making sure he's happy.”

“and he is.” rafe assured you. “look at his little face.”

you feel tears well up in your eyes as you look at your husband and your son, snuggled together on the couch. you quickly take a screenshot while they both have smiles on their faces.

“you're such a good mama. leons lucky to have you, and so am i.”

the tears are now falling down your cheeks as you smile. “i love you.”

“i love you too. and we miss you, but go enjoy your night with the girls!”

“okay.” you nod. “you're right. ill be home tomorrow around noon.”

“got it.” rafe holds the camera closer to leon. “say bye bye to mommy, leon.”

the call ends with his smiling face looking back at yours.

sfw taglist: @bejeweledreverie @winterrrnight @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen

[inkbybambi]

bodyguard!simon riley who takes a bullet for you —

words: 2.9k rating: e warnings: nightmares, guns/shooting, gunshot wound, hospitals, smut, creampie, cunnilingus, mentions of threats against reader, threat against reader, lowercase writing — please let me know if i missed any! notes: 18+ content, minors dni. warnings have been provided.

He's been assigned to you for two-ish years now. You weren't thrilled at first, and neither was he — but he didn't make it as obvious as you did.

"I don't need a babysitter," you had damn-near hissed when he was introduced.

"I wasn't hired to be one," he counters coolly, which only serves to irritate you further.

Actively ignoring his presence — as much as you could when your company moved him into your apartment — even though you begrudgingly made room in the counters and fridge for his things, even going as far as investing into a better kettle so he could make his tea and clearing out an entire cabinet for all his tea, sugar, and steeper.

He trails you quietly as he was hired to; keeping close enough to always have you in his sights but far enough away that people wouldn't be able to clock his association to you — or so he thought.

Six months into his contract with you — an unknown amount of time left, as Price never answered and soon he stopped asking — he wakes in the middle of the night from a scream he never thought would come from you.

He rushes to your bedroom, gun in hand with his finger resting on the side — not the trigger. The front door is locked as he had left it, windows unbroken. He almost thinks he might've associated it with one of his own nightmares, until he sees you.

Curled in on yourself, face tucked into your knees, fingers threaded at the nape of your neck as you struggle to breathe properly, hiccups and sobs breaking between your stuttered breaths.

He knocks gently on your door, not wanting to startle you. You jump a little, regardless, but lift your head to look at him.

"'m sorry," you mumble, voice rough, "I didn't mean to wake you."

And you hadn't. You thought you were done with these awful nightmares, the ones gnawing at the edges of your mind during the day.

"'S'alright," he replies, tucking the gun into the waistband of his sleep shorts, walking carefully towards your bed. "You okay?"

The look he receives damn near breaks his heart.

He learns, that night, that an attempt had been made on your life before. More than once.

They never got close enough to do any harm, you say, but then swallow thickly and clutch your bicep where Simon sees a scar that he never took notice of previously. They didn't get close enough to do anything worse, you amend, chancing a look at him.

"I had security then, too," you explain, wiping your tears with your hand, playing with the blanket. "It didn't change anything."

Something shifts after that.

He starts cooking for you — with you, when there's time — and you bring him a cup of tea each morning. The bookshelf in the living room, previously only half-filled, collects Simon's books. You give him the login to all your streaming services, and ignore the pointed look he gives you when he sees some trashy reality tv show in your continue to watch queue.

He doesn't complain much when he stands behind you during an episode, arms crossed, asking a question here and there. You sigh, exasperated at having to explain everything, telling him to sit down as you start the series from the beginning.

Nine months into his contract, your nightmares become more frequent, and worse. You don't understand why. You were getting better, you cry in Simon's arms after a particularly rough night.

"Sometimes these things happen," he tells you softly, gently petting your hair, tucking you under his chin.

"Make them stop, please," you beg, even though you know he can't. he wishes he could.

He starts sleeping in your bed.

He's so warm, your cheek pressed into his chest, feeling more secure than you have in months when the weight of his thick, tattooed arm slings around your waist. He presses a kiss to your forehead at night, and you burrow into his side.

He starts taking the balaclava off at night.

A morning where you blessedly don't have to be up early, grey clouds hang in the sky, the promise of a storm later.

"G'mornin'," he says, voice rough with sleep, feeling him flex and stretch beneath you, groaning as his body relaxes. A flash of heat snaps through you.

"Morning," you reply, only half-awake, tilting your head up to drag your lips across his jaw, prickling with stubble.

He cradles the back of your head, fingers thick and comforting, tilting you back until his mouth slants over yours. He holds you so carefully, like glass, as his tongue slips into your mouth, hot and heavy.

The sheets rustle as he moves to lay over you, free arm resting by your head as your legs hook on his hips, trying to draw him closer to you.

He nips at your bottom lip as he rolls his hips, the heat of his cock through his boxers frazzling your brain. You mewl, his tongue back in your mouth, moving his hand to grip your waist and drag you up against him, moaning low in his throat when he feels the wetness seeping through your panties.

"Fuck," you breathe out as his mouth moves over your cheek, down your jaw, kissing the sensitive skin behind your ear.

"Say please," he rumbles.

"Simon, please," you whine, fingers curling at the base of his skull and scratching, and he snarls against your skin, sinking his teeth into the side of your neck as he tears your panties off, pushing his boxers down enough to free his cock.

You're so wet for him, slick coating your thighs as he drags his cock through your folds.

He usually takes his time — using his fingers and tongue to open them up first, wanting to feel the wet heat of their cunt and the spurt of their release to know they're relaxed and ready for him. He eats pussy like he'll die if he doesn't, will happily spend hours between your legs if you let him.

But with you? He feels feral with need.

"It's big, sweet thing," he rasps into your skin, lips hovering over that sensitive spot on your neck that he sunk his teeth into earlier, notching the head of his cock at your entrance. He's not trying to brag, it's just a fact.

You claw at him, the sting of open scratches burning his skin so pleasantly.

"It's okay, don't care," you pant, gripping him hard enough to leave deep crescent marks in his skin, angling your hips up to draw him into your cunt yourself.

He grips your hips with both hands, slowly pushing his thick length into you, nails digging even deeper the more he pushes in.

"Feels so fucking good," he says, tongue laving over your throat to collect the thin sheen of sweat that coats your skin. "Could fuck you forever," he groans, your breath hitching.

You make a strangled noise low in your throat. It's been awhile since you've fucked anyone, and you've never fucked anyone as big as him before.

The stretch feels so good, though. Your cunt clenches around him as he sinks in deeper, mind glazing over as you focus only on him.

"Fuck," he whines when he finally seats himself fully into you, nuzzling into your neck, overwhelmed by the heat and slick, "good fucking girl, taking me so well."

He swallows thickly, waiting a couple heartbeats to enjoy this — it's been awhile for him, too.

"Think you can take it, love?" and his fucking voice. You would agree to do anything as long as you could hear that rough accent along your throat, teeth skimming your skin.

"Yes," you breathe out harshly, moving to wrap your arms around his shoulders, needing him close, close, closer.

For a man of few words, Simon has a filthy mouth as he fucks into you, accompanied by groans and growls into your collar.

"Never had a cunt this perfect." "Fuckin' made for me." "Can't wait to get my tongue in you, feel you cum on my face." "No one else can have you." "You're mine."

And you, normally far more verbal than him, are reduced to nothing more than mewls and pleas and moans for more.

You mouth and nip at his jaw when you can, wanting to mark him, wanting to stake your claim. You'll be his forever if he lets you, but you'll be damned if anyone else gets to have him either.

"Simon — " is the only warning you give before you cum on his cock, head thrown back as you moan through the waves of pleasure, release coating his length and thighs.

"That's it, baby, good girl, give it to me," he says, blunt nails digging into your waist as he grinds himself deep into you. You feel so warm and pliant, the pleasure numbing your mind as he rocks himself into you.

"Wanna feel you give me one more, angel," he bites at your throat on the other side, his need to sink his teeth into every inch of your skin overwhelming. He hooks your legs over his shoulders, fucking into you deeper, hitting that spot inside you that has you seeing stars and your toes curling.

You grip at him again, clawing as he fucks into you, the sound of your wet cunt taking each thrust creating a symphony with his groans and your cries. He feels so fucking good, splitting you open and making you whole, desperate for him to cum inside.

The way your nails dig into his shoulder is the sign that you're getting close, and he thrusts just a little harder, a little meaner, your cute whines growing more desperate as you walk the precipice of another orgasm.

No one's ever made you cum more than once — sometimes, not even once — and you've never been able to do it yourself either.

Simon? Fucks a second orgasm out of you like it's his life mission, ankles tightening around his neck as pleasure lines your veins, shaking as he continues to hit that spot inside you as you cum, prolonging it as much as he can.

"Baby — " he chokes out, sharp teeth on your shoulder, thrusts getting sloppy. The slick of your two releases sounds so loud in your bedroom, feeling the desperation as he thrusts, deeper, harder.

"Cum inside," you mumble against his cheek, nails scratching at the base of his skull as he thrusts once, twice, three times — the warmth of his release flooding your cunt.

He fists the sheets in one hand, nails dragging down your thigh as he pumps deep into you, your slick and his release seeping out of your hole, dripping down his balls and your asshole.

You stay like that, lips brushing, breathing in each other's air as you slowly come down from the high.

Simon gently — so gently — lowers your legs, carefully watching your face for any signs of discomfort, settling them on his hips, hands moving up and down your thighs. "Y'alright?" he asks. You swallow thickly and nod, both hands now at the base of his skull, affectionately scratching at the nape of his neck.

He slowly pulls out, and you miss the stretch and the warmth immediately. You push up on your elbows, watching as the mixture of your pleasure leaks out of you, biting you lip.

"Fuckin' beautiful," he says almost reverently, mesmerized.

He spends the next hour cleaning you up, and you think your nails create permanent marks on his shoulders.

Time bleeds together.

His contract renews on the twelfth month.

He heard rumors that Price might switch him out for another guard.

You're at the meeting — it's your bodyguard, after all, they figure you should get some input. Price has two separate folders prepared. A sharp look from Simon is all Price needed to know about how he feels. The tongue lashing you give your higher ups has Price raising his eyebrows, and Simon sits forward a little more should he need to haul you out over his shoulder.

He wouldn't mind that too much, he thinks, but he'd rather not.

Ten minutes later and you're angrily signing his renewal papers, a blotch of ink at the start of your name as you didn't even read the contract before signing, lungs burning from your rant about personal safety and what the fuck are you thinking and I didn't just buy an entirely new tea set for nothing.

You grip his wrist as soon as he signs himself, dragging him to the nearest bathroom.

His hand covers your mouth as he fucks you deep and slow.

"Don't worry, darling, 'm not going anywhere."

Eighteen months into his contract, and he's never felt so little control before in his life.

He's meticulous, prepared, tactile.

There's a gun in his holster for distance threats and a knife in his sheath for those who dare get too close.

He makes sure to memorize the exists before you even get to the venue, now making no effort to conceal himself.

He's like a shadow, or a guard dog.

You've never felt more secure, more protected.

Until —

He doesn't know how it slipped past him.

He let his eyes linger a little too long on the curve of your neck, where a new diamond pendant lay with his initial engraved on the back. He admires the dip of the dress you wear, open-back that shows the enticing expanse of your back, the dress covering you above the curve of your ass. You look back at him briefly while whomever you're with speaks, eyes sparkling in the bright light of the room, a smile reserved just for him.

He hears the cock of a hammer and his eyes snap to a gentleman who brandishes a gun like he's never held one before in his life. His eyes, though. His eyes are like fire, black with rage, staring at you with such hatred.

You look one second too late.

Simon is on you right after the click of the trigger, pushing you to the floor and caging you with his body.

"Stay down and don't fucking move," he growls as he reaches for his own weapon, up in a flash.

You can't hear anything except white noise and screams that sound muffled, heart pounding and making it hard to breathe. Two shots ring out, in tandem, and there's the telltale sign of a body hitting the floor.

Simon is by your side, eyes scanning, frantic, looking for any signs of harm.

"You okay?" he asks, carefully outstretching his hands to let you stop him from touching you should you want. you don't.

"Fine," your voice cracks, and you can't stop shaking.

"You're okay, you're okay," he says, cradling your cheeks, thumbs wiping under your eyes. "I'm so fucking sorry," he adds, guilt heavy in his chest.

You grab his wrists lightly, tears streaming down your cheeks as you look him over. You gasp, unable to catch a real breath, unable to look away from his stomach.

"Simon — " you say, horror laced in your voice.

He looks down, seeing the red seep through his shirt.

Fuck.

At least it wasn't you, he tells himself.

Nineteen months into his contract, and he isn't dead.

While he's been shot before — a fact he tells you, assuming it would comfort you, but only got him a venomous glare in return — it's been awhile.

The hospital, the stitches, the gauze and needles. He hated it then and he hates it now.

Price comes to you in the hospital — they're keeping Simon for a little, to make sure there's no complications with his healing — offering another guard in the interim while he recovers.

You've never shot down a proposal so quickly in your life. The nerve.

Twenty-two months into his contract, and the last of the moving boxes are taped shut and labeled. Some of them in your writing, the others in his. The keys to your new house are tucked into his pocket, alongside a black velvet box.

"Why do we have so much shit," you whine when packing, only two boxes deep and so many rooms left to go. You're too busy stuffing a manatee shaped steeper into a box — mana-tea, you giggled when he opened it, him rolling his eyes fondly in reply — and don't see him pause, looking at you softer, never hearing "we" before like that. Never dreaming he could hear it like that.

A lot of stalling on your part and encouragement on his, and the last box is packed and placed in the back of the truck.

He laces your fingers together as you drive to the new house, a bottle of champagne already chilled.

Twenty four months into his contract, and you come home with something hidden behind your back.

You smile like you have a secret, which would be a first.

It's awkward to bring around from your back, but there's a large German Shepard puppy wiggling in your grip, tail wagging furiously.

He feels his heart stop for a moment, unable to take his eyes off the puppy, and then the band that's sitting around your finger. He touches his own subconsciously.

You set the ball of fur down, who immediately launches at Simon, whining and wiggling and trying to give him kisses.

There's a collar and tag already there, and you watch with your heart beating faster than ever, unable to stop the smile on your lips, as he wrangles the pup enough to read it.

Riley.

[emmyrosee]

[4:56 pm]

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”

Immediately, your eyes bug out at the sound of your husband coming home and bursting through the door. Your hands that had been playing with the teddy bear on the bed stills, and you freeze for a moment.

Your daughter, Kamiko, also now having been surprised at the noise, looks up at you to gauge your reaction and dictate how she should feel, eyes like Katsuki’s blinking up at you. You gnaw your lip as there’s another yell, one of your name, and you’re quick to look at your daughter and hold a finger to your lips to keep her quiet, though giggling softly to ease her. She giggles back, and you shush her softly.

“YOUVE GOT SOME EXPLAINING TO DO!”

Okay. Maybe spending an unspeakable amount on pastries was fair to make him rage. But in your defense, you never get to go into that bakery!

Katsuki knows the absolute fortune you tend to shell out for their pastries, and he tries his damn hardest to keep you out of there. He knows they’re good, but he tells you that ‘that’s not the point.’

So, naturally, when he went to work and you and Kamiko made your way to run errands, the smell of chocolate and cinnamon rolls were just too enticing to ignore. You’d made your way into the quiet bakery and grabbed things that would surely be appreciated by Katsuki.

Apparently, however, he saw the damage on his credit card before your kindness can show.

Whups.

You’re quick to lay down on your side- back facing the door and body curled around Kamiko- still holding a finger to your lips, and when she gives you a nod of understanding, you close your eyes just in time for angry feet to storm down the hallway to your room. You hear the door fly open, and you can feel the crimson eyes of your husband boring into the back of your skull.

“I’m going to absolutely destroy you-“

“Dadda,” your two year old whispers, and you hear her ease out a soft ‘shhhh.’ “Mumma sleepin’.”

“Is she?” He snarls, unconvinced. “And she let you stay awake? Just because?”

“Was sleepin’ too, dadda. Woke me up…”

Where she learned to be such a good liar, you’ll never know.

You hear Katsuki let out an impatient exhale through his nose, clearly weighing his options as your breathing continues its rhythmic pace, mimicking sleep. Kamiko’s tiny hand pats your cheek affectionately. “Dadda, shhhh…”

Katsuki sighs dramatically, and you are surprised to feel the soft peck against your temple, massive, calloused hand smoothing down your back. “We will discuss this later,” he snarls in your ear. “Get some rest, Kami. I’m gonna start dinner, okay?”

“Okay dadda!” She chirps, and when you hear his feet pad away and the door close, your eyes fly open and a smile spreads wide over your face.

“You’re such a little troublemaker!” You growl playfully, taking the little girl into your arms and kissing her all over. She squeals at your affections and gently shoves your face away. “Ohhh just like your mommy! And your uncle Denki! He’s gonna be so-“

“I KNEW YOU WERENT ASLEEP!”

The door slams back open, and a disgruntled Katsuki immediately flies back in, gathering you and Kamiko in each arm. You two shriek, but the smiles on your face absolutely plastered, unbudging from your faces as he manhandles you- Kamiko, with a raspberry on her cheek back onto the bed, and you, over his shoulder mercilessly.

“YOU SPENT ¥13000 IN THAT STUPID BAKERY?! AND YOU GOT OUR DAUGHTER TO LIE TO ME?!” He’s trying as hard as he can to keep the smirk off his face, though you hear it breaking through in his shouts.

Your fists bang against his back, nails digging in, but he’s unrelenting, and you whine out when he makes a fake move to drop you. “I-I wanted coffee cake!” You titter, screwing your eyes shut. “Kami! Help me!”

“Go, dadda!”

“WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON!” You bark in betrayal.

“The winning side,” he snickers, turning on his feet to carry you out of the room. “If you help me punish mumma, I won’t punish you so bad, Kami.”

“Yeah!”

“NO!”

Was it worth having one of the cupcakes getting smushed into your face? Not really (though him kissing you through the frosting was definitely worth something!)

Was it worth the memory you’d only added to the vault as a family?

God, yes.

[stylesispunk]

Silent Strain | Part iii

Outbreak! Joel Miller x f!reader

previous part | next part

chapter summary: Joel is afraid of letting you out of his sight and you were afraid of him slipping away.

w.c: 16k> (it was going to be 8k but this happened)

warnings: angst, mentions of panic attack, fluff. no proofreading. Probably some things won't make sense, but I felt pressured and I had to post this chapter.

a/n: hello! Last fic I posted didn't go how I expected but here's another chapter of this series. I hope you like this chapter and PLEASE share your thoughts with me. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

As the first gloomy light of morning crept through the window, Joel felt like he could finally breathe again. The soft, grey dawn brought with it a sense of calm that the night had cruelly stolen away. He didn’t fear the darkness itself; he'd learned long ago to live within its shadows, but he feared the memories that the darkness brought to him. The loss, the crying, the desperation... and the blood.

The thought of losing another child, and losing you in the process, cracked the rough surface he had been hiding behind for so many years. It was too much; it was too familiar. As much as he tried to stay strong, the fear had gnawed at him, tearing at the fragile walls he had built around his heart.

Your breathing had steadied, though the pain had not fully subsided. He could feel your heartbeat against his chest, uneven but there, steadying his own frantic pulse. He had held you tighter, his own breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps, trying to stay calm for you, for the baby.

After the scare from last night, Joel had held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his face buried in your hair. He whispered softly; words meant to soothe you but also to keep his own panic at bay. "It's okay, darlin'. I'm here. Just breathe. Stay with me…"

The hours had dragged on, and every flicker of discomfort on your face sent a fresh wave of panic through him. He hadn't let himself sleep, afraid that if he closed his eyes, he might wake up to another nightmare.

Now, in the pale morning light, Joel watched you. Your eyes were closed, but your breathing was calm and even, a welcome change from the strained, pained gasps that had filled the room only hours before. He stroked a thumb gently along your arm, his touch feather-light, afraid of disturbing you but needing the contact to ground himself.

Ellie, who had kept a worried vigil nearby, finally stirred awake. She glanced over and saw Joel watching you, the lines of tension still etched into his face.

"Is… is she okay?" Ellie whispered, moving closer, her eyes wide with concern.

Joel nodded slowly, his voice barely a murmur. "Yeah, I think… I don’t know.”

Ellie let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "God, Joel, you looked so scared," she admitted, trying to lighten the mood, though her voice was shaky. "I’ve never seen you like that."

Joel’s lips twitched into a faint, weary smile. "Guess I'm getting soft, huh?"

Ellie leaned against the wall, watching him carefully. "That isn’t bad thing," she muttered, her eyes flicking over to you. “She needs you.”

Joel’s gaze softened, his eyes returning to you, still sleeping peacefully. Then, his gaze went to Ellie’s again.

“Ellie, can you take care of her for a moment?”

Ellie nodded, confused as Joel stood up, walking towards the door without saying a word to her.

Joel's steps were heavy, each one echoing softly in the quiet room. He reached the door and paused for a moment, his hand resting on the rough wood. His shoulders were tense, his head slightly bowed as if wrestling with some invisible weight.

Ellie watched him, frowning. "Joel?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Where are you going?"

He didn't turn around, didn't meet her gaze. "Just… need a minute," he replied, his tone low and strained. "I'll be back soon."

Ellie’s eyes flicked back to you, still resting, and then back to Joel. “She’s gonna wake up and ask for you,” she said, her voice gentle, but firm. "You sure you’re, okay?"

Joel nodded, though his movements were stiff, almost mechanical. "Yeah," he muttered, though he didn’t sound convinced. “I just need some air."

With that, he slipped out the door, the cold morning air rushing in as he opened it. He took a deep breath, feeling the sharp chill hit his lungs, grounding him momentarily. He stepped outside, letting the door close quietly behind him.

He stood there, just outside, his breath visible in the cold air, his mind racing. The panic from the night before still clung to him, like a dark shadow that refused to leave. His hands trembled slightly as he ran them through his hair, trying to calm himself down.

He couldn't shake the image of you in pain, the fear in your eyes, the blood on your hands. It felt like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from, a terrifying reminder of all the things he couldn't control, all the people he couldn't protect.

He closed his eyes, leaning against the wall of the house, his breathing coming in short, uneven bursts. He pressed his hands against his chest, trying to steady his heart, but the memories wouldn't let him rest. Memories of Sarah, of the pain of losing her, of the years spent hardening himself against that same pain.

And now, here he was again, facing the possibility of losing someone he cared about more than he wanted to admit.

"Come on, Joel," she muttered under her breath, killing the silence on Joel’s mind.

“Go back inside” he said.

Ellie jumped slightly at his words, her eyes darting to Joel. She could see the tightness in his shoulders, the tension in his jaw. For a moment, she considered arguing, but something in his voice stopped her. There was a rawness there, a plea she hadn’t heard before.

“Joel…” she started, her voice softer now, more careful.

His eyes flicked to hers, the pain clear, almost palpable. “Ellie, just… go back inside,” he repeated, his tone almost breaking. “Please.”

She hesitated, biting her lip, before nodding “You know it’s not your fault.”

Joel's face tightened at Ellie's words, his jaw clenching as if he was holding back a torrent of emotion. He shook his head, looking away for a moment, his gaze hard and distant, lost in anger and regret.

“I dragged her here,” he muttered, his voice rough and strained. “Knowing her state, knowing what could happen… I should’ve left her behind. Should’ve kept her safe.”

Ellie took a step closer, her own face a mix of frustration and empathy. “But you didn’t,” she argued softly. “Because you knew she’d never forgive you if you did. She wanted to be with you, Joel.”

He looked back at her, his eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing her words. “It doesn’t matter,” he replied, his voice a little louder now, a little more forceful. “I still made the call. I still put her in danger.”

Ellie shook her head. “You’re doing everything you can to protect her. You think she doesn’t know that?” She took another step closer, her tone firmer. “She trusts you, Joel. She believes in you. And… so do I.”

For a moment, Joel’s expression softened, the harsh lines of his face easing slightly. But then he closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath, as if trying to steady himself. “I don’t know if that’s enough, kid,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Ellie sighed, glancing back at the door. “It has to be,” she said. “Because she needs you now more than ever. And you’re the one who’s gonna keep her safe.”

Joel let out a long, shaky breath, his shoulders slumping as if a weight had settled on them. He looked at Ellie, his expression caught between determination and fear. "Yeah… I hope you're right," he murmured, almost to himself.

Ellie reached out, touching his arm gently, a rare moment of softness between them. “Just… don’t beat yourself up too much, alright?” she said, her voice low. “She’s gonna need you to be strong for her. And so am I.”

Joel and Ellie stepped quietly back inside the house, the dim light from the early morning casting long shadows across the walls. Joel's eyes immediately moved to you, lying on the couch, your face still and peaceful in sleep. For a brief moment, he felt a strange calm settle over him, just seeing you safe, resting.

But as if sensing their presence, you began to stir. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, adjusting to the dim light. The ache in your body was still there, a dull throb in your stomach, but the sharp pain had subsided, leaving only a sense of heaviness. You blinked a few times, your gaze settling on Joel and Ellie as they stood by the door, both looking back at you with relief.

“Hey…” you murmured; your voice raspy with sleep. You tried to push yourself up, but Joel was by your side in an instant, his hands gently helping you to sit up. His touch was careful, as if he was afraid you might break.

“Take it easy,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing.

You nodded, wincing slightly as you adjusted yourself. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… I just…” Your voice trailed off, and you swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “I’m okay, really.”

Ellie stepped closer, her eyes wide with concern, but there was a hint of a teasing smile on her lips. “You better be, ‘cause I don’t think I can handle Joel being that freaked out again,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.

You chuckled softly, a weak smile spreading across your face. “Guess I gave you both a bit of a scare, huh?”

Joel’s expression softened, his thumb gently brushing against the back of your hand. “Yeah, you could say that,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

He didn’t meet you gaze, and you know damn well what that meant. You noticed the way his eyes seemed to avoid yours, his gaze fixed on some invisible point in the room. His thumb kept moving over the back of your hand, but there was a tightness in his jaw, a hesitation in his posture that made your heart ache.

“Ellie,” you said softly, turning your head toward her. She paused, halfway through rummaging in the supply bag, her eyes darting between you and Joel. “Could you… give us a minute?”

Ellie hesitated, her gaze lingering on Joel for a moment, and then on you. She seemed to understand that something more needed to be said between the two of you. She nodded slowly, trying to mask her concern with a casual shrug. "Yeah, sure," she muttered, trying to play it cool, even as her curiosity buzzed beneath the surface. “I’ll, uh, go check on the weather or something.”

She grabbed her jacket, slinging it over her shoulders and headed toward the door. “But if I hear any yelling, I’m coming back in,” she added with a small grin, trying to lighten the mood before she slipped out the door, leaving the two of you alone.

The room was suddenly much quieter without Ellie’s presence. The only sounds were the crackling of the dying fire and the distant, muted wind outside. You turned back to Joel, your eyes searching his face. He still wasn’t looking at you, his thumb still moving in that steady rhythm against your hand.

“Joel,” you whispered, trying to draw his gaze back to yours. "Look at me."

He hesitated, his shoulders tense, but finally, he lifted his eyes to meet yours. You could see the conflict there, the worry, the guilt. “What is it?” you asked gently. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

He took a deep breath, his jaw clenching for a moment before he spoke. "I… I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “For all of it. For dragging you out here, for… putting you in danger."

You shook your head, squeezing his hand. “Joel, I made that choice. I knew what I was getting into.”

He shook his head, his eyes dropping again, filled with that familiar guilt. “No… you didn’t. Not really,” he muttered.

You reached up, cupping his cheek with your free hand, forcing him to look at you again. “Joel, stop,” you said firmly, your voice steady. “Nothing is going to happen to us. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”

He closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath. “I’m just… I’m so damn scared,” he confessed, his voice breaking slightly. "Of losing you. Of losing another…"

You felt a lump form in your throat, understanding the weight of his words, the depth of his fear. You leaned closer, pressing your forehead against his, your voice soft.

“Joel, the baby is okay,” you reassured him softly, hoping your words would ease some of the fear you saw in his eyes. "I can feel it."

He shook his head slightly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “How do you know?” he asked, his voice low and rough. There was a tremor in it, a crack that revealed the depth of his concern. “How do you know when we’re out here, and everything’s…” He trailed off, his breath hitching.

You swallowed, trying to find the right words, to offer him some kind of comfort. “I just do,” you whispered, moving closer to him. “I can feel it. Maybe it’s just… a mother’s instinct. But I believe it, Joel. I feel like… this baby is strong.”

Joel's eyes softened at your words, but the fear still lingered there, heavy and ever-present. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to steady himself. His hand moved to rest on your stomach, his palm pressing gently against the swell. He closed his eyes, as if trying to feel what you felt, to believe in what you were saying.

“Strong,” he repeated softly, almost like he was testing the word, trying it out to see if it fit. "I hope so… I really do."

You placed your hand over his, squeezing it lightly. “I know so,” you assured him, your voice unwavering. “I know it’s a little tiny thing but..I feel it.”

He exhaled slowly; his breath warm against your cheek. “I want to believe you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I do."

“Then believe me,” you urged, your thumb brushing against his cheek in a soothing motion. “We’ve made it this far, right? We’re almost there, Joel… we just need to hold on a little longer.”

He nodded, a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah,”

For a moment, the room was silent except for the crackling of the fire and the faint sound of the wind outside. Joel finally met your gaze again, a mix of hope and fear in his eyes. "I’ve lost so much,” he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t… I can’t lose you, too.”

Your heart ached at his words, understanding the depth of his pain. You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, trying to pour all the reassurance you could into that touch. "You won't," you whispered against his mouth. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

He kissed your back, a little more desperately this time, as if he were afraid you might disappear. You held him close, feeling his body tremble slightly against yours, his breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts.

Ellie pushed the door open, her footsteps echoing in the quiet room. She froze mid-step, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of you and Joel, wrapped in each other's arms, lips just parting from the kiss. Her face scrunched up in mock disgust, and she rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Ugh, seriously?” she groaned, putting her hands on her hips. “If you two wanted to get all mushy, you could’ve at least sent me away or something. Or, I don’t know, given me a warning!”

Joel pulled back, a faint blush creeping up his neck. He coughed, trying to mask the embarrassment with a stern look. “Ellie,” he started, his voice gruff, but she just waved him off.

“No, no, it’s fine," she said with a playful grin, "I mean, I get it… the world’s falling apart, and you’re all about the dramatic declarations of love. But can you keep it PG for the kid in the room?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension of the moment breaking as you met Ellie’s teasing gaze. “Sorry, Ellie,” you chuckled.

She rolled her eyes again but smiled, moving to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. "Yeah, yeah. Just… don't make me an unwilling participant in your cheesy romance, okay?" She paused, glancing between the two of you, her expression softening just a bit. "But… I’m glad you’re both okay.”

Joel shook his head, a small, reluctant smile forming on his lips. "We’re okay, kiddo," he replied softly, his voice still carrying a hint of emotion. "We’re all okay."

Ellie grinned, nudging Joel lightly with her shoulder. “Good,” she muttered, “'Cause I need both of you.”

You and Joel exchanged amused glances, and for a moment, the heaviness in the room seemed to lift, replaced by a sense of warmth and comfort in knowing you were all still together, facing whatever came next.

Four months had passed since that tense night, and winter had settled in with a cold grip. The once vibrant landscape had transformed into a stark, snowy expanse. You, now seven months pregnant, felt the weight of your journey more than ever, but the quiet strength of Joel and Ellie beside you made the harsh conditions more bearable.

Now seven months pregnant, you felt the weight of it all pressing down on you, not just the baby growing inside, but the miles you had trudged through the wilderness. Your feet ached, your back was sore, and your hands were red and raw from the cold. Yet, the quiet strength of Joel and Ellie beside you made the harsh conditions somehow more bearable. Joel, ever watchful, kept close, his eyes always scanning the horizon for any sign of danger, his presence a constant comfort. Ellie, with her relentless spirit, kept the mood light with her jokes and sarcastic comments, doing her best to distract you from the relentless chill.

The trio of you had walked through miles of frost-covered terrain, the snow crunching beneath your boots. Each step was a reminder of how far you had come and how much further you still had to go. Wyoming was just ahead, a small but significant milestone in your quest for safety and a future.

Joel trudged ahead, his face set in determined lines, but every now and then he would glance back at you, making sure you were okay. He had taken to carrying a small pack with supplies, his concern for you palpable. Ellie, now a bit more grown and experienced, walked close by, occasionally breaking the silence with a joke or a comment, trying to keep your spirits up.

You looked at Joel’s profile, his face partially hid the fear on his bones and despite his gruff exterior, he had become your rock through this tumultuous journey. You had come to rely on his strength and his soft, rare moments of tenderness.

December 1st

“Winter has arrived with a vengeance. The cold is biting, and our progress has slowed. We’re staying in an old barn for the night, huddled together to keep warm. Joel’s been making sure the fire stays lit, while Ellie tries to make the best of our situation.

I can feel the baby kicking more strongly now. It’s a constant reminder of why we’re enduring all of this. Joel’s been more attentive, though still guarded. He’s trying so hard to protect us, and I wish he could see that his presence alone is enough.

The snow makes everything look different. Almost beautiful, in a way that feels wrong given the world we’re living in. We made camp in a small cabin tonight. Joel found some firewood, and Ellie kept herself busy by trying to make soup out of what little we had. She’s worried about me, even though she pretends not to be. I can see it in the way she watches me, like she’s waiting for something to happen. Joel, too, keeps his eyes on me, never letting me stray too far. I think he’s afraid, maybe more than he’ll ever admit.

The baby’s been kicking more. It’s a strange feeling, like little taps from the inside, reminding me that there’s something good in this world. Something worth fighting for.”

The cold wind whipped around you, making it difficult to see very far ahead. Joel motioned for a short break, and you gratefully lowered yourself onto a nearby snow-covered log. Ellie quickly dug out some snacks and hot drinks from her pack, her hands red and numb from the cold.

“Here,” she said, handing you a steaming cup. “This should help warm you up.”

You took the cup gratefully, savoring the warmth as it seeped into your fingers and then your body. “Thanks, Ellie,” you said, smiling. “I don’t know how we’d have made it without you.”

Ellie shrugged; her cheeks flushed from the cold. “Just doing my part,” she said with a wink. “And keeping you guys from going completely crazy.”

Joel joined you, taking a seat beside you and offering you a small piece of dried fruit. “We’re almost there,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Just a bit further, and we’ll be in Wyoming.”

You nodded, taking comfort in his words. “I know,” you replied. “It’s just... sometimes it feels like it’s never going to end.”

Joel’s hand reached out, gently resting on your knee for a few minutes to provide the comfort he knew you needed.

As you made your way through the snow-covered terrain, the excitement of nearing Wyoming provided a much-needed boost. Joel’s usual calm demeanor had been unwavering through most of the journey, but today, there was an underlying tension in his movements that you and Ellie didn’t immediately notice.

Joel’s breaths were more rapid and shallow, though he tried to mask it behind a determined facade. He kept a firm grip on his pack and occasionally glanced around with a slightly strained look. His face, though mostly hidden by his scarf, betrayed signs of an inner struggle that he wasn’t quite ready to share.

Ellie’s voice broke the silence, sharp and unfiltered as always.

"Are you dying?" she asked, half-joking but with an edge of genuine concern. She was walking beside you, her eyes narrowed at Joel, who hadn’t slowed his pace despite the obvious tension in his movements.

Joel grunted, his response delayed as he adjusted the pack on his shoulder. "No," he said curtly, his breath coming out in visible puffs in the cold air. "I’m fine."

"You don’t look fine," Ellie pressed, glancing at you as if seeking backup. "You’re all... sweaty and weird."

You frowned, watching Joel carefully now. Ellie wasn’t wrong—there was something off about him today. The way his shoulders hunched, his steps just a bit too heavy, like he was pushing through something. He had been quiet, more so than usual, and you could sense the strain behind his eyes whenever he glanced back at you.

"Joel?" you asked, your voice softer than Ellie’s but carrying the same concern. "What’s going on?"

He slowed his steps, finally stopping to catch his breath. His hand went to his side, rubbing it briefly before he straightened up, avoiding eye contact. "It’s nothin’," he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual strength. "Just... pushin' too hard today. We’re close, is all. No time to slow down."

Ellie crossed her arms, her eyes flicking between you and Joel with a skeptical look. "Right," she said, not convinced. "You’re not dying, but you’re also... not dying?"

Joel shot her a look that could’ve silenced most people, but not Ellie. "I said I’m fine."

You stepped closer to him, concern outweighing your hesitation. "Joel, you need to tell us if something’s wrong. You can’t carry this all by yourself."

He exhaled through his nose, the stubbornness etched in his expression softening for just a moment. "I’ll be alright," he said, though now his voice was quieter, less defensive. "Just... need a minute. We’ll keep movin’ after that."

Ellie threw her hands up. "Well, that’s reassuring," she muttered, but you could tell the worry hadn’t left her eyes.

You stayed close to Joel, watching him as he tried to steady his breathing, his hands resting on his knees for support. The tension that had been building inside you all day finally surfaced, the reality of how much you were relying on him pressing down on you. But even now, as he struggled, he was still trying to protect you both.

Joel glanced up at you, catching your gaze, and for a brief second, his walls dropped. There it was—the vulnerability he was so good at hiding, but not today. Not from you.

“I want to rest for a bit” you said, placing your hand over your swollen belly. You needed the rest, but you also wanted to force Joel to slow down a bit.

Joel’s eyes flicked down to your hand resting on your belly, then back up to meet your gaze. His expression softened, the usual stubborn resistance he wore melting away for a moment. He sighed, clearly torn between pushing forward and giving in to the obvious need for a break. You could see the struggle in him—the need to keep going, to get you all to safety—but he couldn’t deny the toll it was taking on both of you.

"Yeah, alright," he muttered, standing upright and scanning the area. "We’ll rest."

Ellie, who had been quietly watching the exchange, gave a slight huff of relief. "Finally," she said, throwing her pack down onto the snow and plopping down next to it. She stretched her legs out in front of her, rubbing her hands together for warmth. "You both needed this."

You nodded, grateful for the pause, though your focus remained on Joel. He had been pushing himself too hard, and the weight of that knowledge gnawed at you. It wasn’t just about the miles or the cold—it was the responsibility, the fear of what would happen if he couldn’t protect you both. You were carrying a life inside of you, and while you knew Joel would never admit it, that added an extra layer of pressure on him.

Joel knelt down beside you, his eyes still scanning the landscape as though danger could appear at any moment. "We won’t stay long," he said, his voice low. "Just enough time to catch our breath."

But it wasn’t true.

As night wore in, Joel had begun gathering wood for a fire, his movements stiff from the weight he carried, not just the physical strain but the burden of keeping you all safe. You watched him silently, your breath visible in the cold night air, as he crouched near a small clearing, arranging the branches and kindling with expert precision. The flicker of the firelight cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw.

Ellie sat nearby, uncharacteristically quiet, watching Joel with a mixture of curiosity and concern. She hugged her knees to her chest, her usual stream of sarcastic comments absent for now. The cold seemed to have silenced her usual banter, or maybe she was just tired, like the rest of you.

Joel caught your gaze from across the fire, his eyes locking onto yours for just a moment longer than usual. He was tired—so tired. But he wouldn’t say it. He wouldn’t admit that he needed to rest just as much as the rest of you, if not more. His protectiveness ran so deep, it was like a force of nature, driving him even when his body begged for relief.

"You should sleep," he muttered, breaking the silence, his voice rough but soft. "I’ll keep watch."

"You need to rest too, Joel," you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper over the crackling fire. "You can’t keep pushing yourself like this."

He didn’t respond right away, his eyes flickering to the flames as if avoiding the truth of what you were saying. Ellie, sensing the tension, chimed in from her spot by the fire.

"Yeah, seriously, man. You’ve been on ‘protector mode’ for hours now. You’re not a machine, you know."

Joel grunted, his usual response when he didn’t want to argue but also didn’t want to agree. He poked at the fire with a stick, the sparks floating up into the dark sky. "I’m fine," he said again, the same phrase he’d been using all day, but it sounded weaker now. Less convincing.

You leaned back against the cave wall, watching him through the flickering light. He was still trying to protect you, still carrying the weight of all your lives on his shoulders. But you could see it wearing on him, the exhaustion, the fear he wouldn’t admit to, the responsibility that felt crushing.

"Joel," you said quietly, "we’re not going to make it if you don’t take care of yourself too.

His eyes snapped to yours again, something unreadable passing through them. For a moment, you thought he might argue, might tell you once again that he was fine. But then he sighed, the sound heavy with everything he wasn’t saying.

"I’ll rest when you two are safe," he said, his voice rough and tired, like he was trying to hold back the weight of the world. "I promise."

Ellie threw a stick into the fire, watching it crackle with an unimpressed look. "Great. So, we’re just supposed to wait until you collapse?"

Joel shot her a look, but it lacked its usual sharpness. You could see that even he was starting to acknowledge the truth.

And just when he was about to say something, you moved uncomfortable. 

Before Joel could respond to Ellie’s sharp comment, you shifted in your spot, a small grimace passing over your face as the baby kicked again. This time, it was stronger, more insistent, and the discomfort rippled through you unexpectedly. You instinctively placed a hand over your belly, your breath catching as the sensation overwhelmed you.

Both Joel and Ellie immediately noticed the change in your posture. Joel's eyes widened, all traces of exhaustion vanishing in an instant as he leaned closer, his expression full of concern.

“What is it?” His voice was tight, his protective instincts kicking in instantly. “Are you alright?”

You nodded, though the tension in your face said otherwise. “I’m fine… it’s just… the baby’s kicking. It’s strong.”

Ellie scooted over, her eyes wide with curiosity and a mix of awe. “Whoa, really?” she asked, her usual snark replaced by genuine interest. “Can I feel?”

You smiled, despite the ache, and gestured for Ellie to come closer. She tentatively reached out, her small hand resting on your belly. A few moments passed, and then the baby kicked again, more pronounced this time. Ellie’s face lit up, her eyes going wide with amazement.

“That’s wild,” she breathed. “It’s like… a real person in there, huh?”

Joel remained still, his expression a mixture of hesitation and uncertainty. His eyes flickered from your face to your belly, where Ellie’s hand still rested, her excitement palpable. But Joel… his gaze was distant, conflicted, as though something heavy was weighing on his mind.

You watched him for a moment, noticing the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched like he was fighting something deep within. He had been so protective of you and the baby, yet now, there was this hesitation that hadn’t been there before. Like the reality of it all was finally sinking in, and it scared him in a way he hadn’t expected.

Your heart softened at the sight of him—this man who had carried so much weight on his shoulders, trying to keep all of you safe. And now, with the baby growing inside you, it seemed like the responsibility was becoming even more overwhelming for him.

Without saying a word, you reached for Joel’s hand, gently pulling it toward your belly. He resisted at first, his eyes meeting yours with an uncertain look. But you smiled, reassuring him, and after a beat, he let you guide his hand to rest over where the baby had just kicked.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. His hand, warm and rough, pressed against your belly, and then the baby kicked again—strong and insistent, like it was reminding him of its presence. Joel’s breath hitched, and his eyes widened in surprise. You could see the emotions flashing across his face—fear, wonder, maybe even hope—but he didn’t pull away.

He swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. “That’s… that’s the baby,” he said, his tone filled with awe, like he couldn’t quite believe it was real.

You nodded, your hand still resting on top of his, offering comfort. “Yeah, Joel. That’s our baby.”

For a moment, Joel just stared at your belly, his hand still pressed against you. Then, slowly, his walls started to crumble. His shoulders slumped, and he let out a shaky breath, the tension that had been building inside him for days finally releasing.

As you watched Ellie marvel at the sensation of the baby kicking, you couldn’t help but notice Joel’s face. His eyes, though focused on your belly, were distant, clouded with thoughts you knew all too well. His silence spoke louder than any words could, and you could see the weight of it pressing down on him, the same doubts and fears he always tried to hide. But this time, there was no hiding.

Without thinking, you gently placed your hand over Ellie’s, signaling for her to stop. "Hey, El… let’s give the baby a little break," you said, your voice soft but firm.

Ellie looked up at you, confused for a second, before pulling her hand back and sitting up straight. She shrugged nonchalantly, though her eyes lingered on your belly, clearly still amazed. “Yeah, sure. That was pretty cool though,” she muttered, leaning back and poking the fire with another stick.

But your attention wasn’t on Ellie anymore. It was on Joel. His hand was still resting on your belly, and he hadn’t moved. You could see the tension in his face, the way he was trying to hold it together for both of you. He needed to rest, to let himself break for just a moment, but you knew how hard that was for him. How much he felt like everything was on his shoulders.

"Joel," you said quietly, almost more gently than you intended. His name felt different on your tongue, like it wasn’t really you speaking.

He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still locked on your belly. You took his hand and slowly lifted it away, placing it in his lap. He blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, and finally looked at you. The weariness in his face was undeniable now, and you could see the cracks in the facade he always tried so hard to keep in place.

“You need to rest,” you said, your voice soft but firm, with an edge that wasn’t quite your usual tone. It was more insistent, more like a command than a request. You weren’t just asking him to take a break—you were telling him.

Joel’s brows furrowed, his lips parting slightly as if to protest, but you cut him off before he could speak.

“I mean it,” you added, surprising even yourself with the intensity of your words. “You’re not going to help anyone if you collapse, Joel. We can’t keep going like this.”

His mouth closed, his eyes searching your face as if trying to figure out what to say, how to argue with you without pushing too hard. But he couldn’t. Not this time. Not with the way you were looking at him, with that mix of worry and determination that left no room for debate.

Ellie, sensing the shift in tone, stayed quiet, glancing between the two of you. For once, she didn’t throw in a sarcastic comment. She just waited, watching the fire crackle and listening to the tension settle around you.

Joel let out a long breath, his shoulders sagging as the fight drained out of him. He nodded, though it seemed reluctant, like he still couldn’t fully let go of the idea that he had to be the one holding it all together.

“Alright,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “Just for a bit.”

You exhaled, relieved, but you still held his gaze, making sure he understood. “It’s not just for us, Joel. It’s for you too. You need this.”

He nodded again, and this time, it seemed a little more genuine. “Yeah… I know,” he whispered, his voice raw with exhaustion.

Ellie glanced up, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Finally,” she muttered under her breath, though there was no bite in her words this time.

As Joel shifted to find a more comfortable position, he laid his head against your lap, his face pressing gently against your belly. The closeness of him, the warmth of his body leaning into yours, made something inside you tighten—an emotion you couldn’t quite name but one you understood all too well. His breaths slowed as the exhaustion finally caught up to him, his body surrendering to the rest he so desperately needed.

Your hand moved on its own, fingers threading through his hair, then brushing down to caress the rough stubble on his face. The small gesture felt both intimate and protective, like you were guarding him for once, in the only way you could. His face softened in his sleep, the tension that had etched itself into his features over the last few days easing away.

Ellie, watching the scene unfold, stifled a quiet chuckle. "Well, that’s a sight," she whispered, shaking her head with a faint smile. “Didn’t think I’d ever see Joel like this.”

You gave her a soft, knowing smile, your hand never leaving Joel’s face. “Yeah, me neither,” you whispered back. The fire crackled between you, casting soft shadows on the cave walls. For the first time in what felt like forever, it was you and Ellie staying awake, the weight of the night’s silence shared between the two of you instead of Joel.

Ellie stretched out her legs, staring into the flames. “So... how’s it feel?” she asked, her voice low as if she didn’t want to disturb Joel. “Y’know, the baby. It’s kinda crazy to think that in the middle of all this... you’re growing a person.”

You let out a quiet laugh, glancing down at Joel’s sleeping form, then at your belly. “Yeah... it’s crazy,” you admitted, your voice soft but filled with a quiet wonder. “But it feels... right, somehow. Like maybe this is the one good thing left in the world.”

Ellie nodded thoughtfully; her gaze still locked on the fire. “Guess we all need something good to fight for.”

Silence settled over you both, the crackling of the fire the only sound as the night stretched on. The cave was cold, but there was a warmth in this moment, a quiet bond growing between you and Ellie as Joel slept soundly against you.

For the first time in a long time, it felt like you had a moment to breathe and be still. And in that stillness, with Joel safe and Ellie by your side, you allowed yourself to hope, just for a little while, that maybe everything would be okay.

December 10th

We made it to Jackson today. It’s hard to believe after everything, but we’re finally here. We’re safe… but something doesn’t feel right.

Tommy was so happy to see us. To see Joel. I saw it in his eyes, the relief of having his brother back. And when he looked at my belly, he was surprised, of course, but happy. Even Maria, his wife is pregnant too. She seemed genuinely excited for us, for what this means. But Joel... Joel didn’t react the way I thought he would.

I’ve seen him handle danger, grief, and loss; nothing seemed to break him. But today, when Tommy told the news when Maria shared her news, I could see something change in Joel. He didn’t smile, didn’t share in the moment like I hoped he would. Instead, he shut down. And it hurts. It hurts to think that maybe he’s not ready for this, for us. Maybe he’s scared, maybe it’s just too much. I don’t know, but it’s like I’m carrying this alone.

I’m scared too. But I want this baby. I want us to be a family. And I thought… I thought Joel did too.

He’s with Tommy now, catching up after a long time or at least pretending to. I can feel something shifted, the distance between us growing, even though we’re finally somewhere safe. What if Jackson doesn’t fix this? What if the problem isn’t out there, but here between us?

You set the pen down and closed the journal, feeling the weight of the words settling into your heart. You glanced over at the new clothes Maria had left for you in the bed.

As you dressed in the clean, comfortable clothes Maria had left, the familiar weight of worry crept back in. The thoughts of the QZ and everything you’d been through tugged at the edges of your mind, but you pushed them aside, determined to move forward and focus on this new chapter in Jackson. This was supposed to be a fresh start. You were determined to make it feel that way.

The cold air outside hit you as you stepped out of the house, but it was fresh, invigorating. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself and began walking through the quiet streets of Jackson, hoping that a bit of solitude would clear your head. But as you passed by one of the larger buildings in the town, you heard voices, low but familiar.

Joel and Tommy were inside.

You hesitated by the window, not meaning to eavesdrop, but you couldn’t help yourself. The tension in Joel had been building all day, and Tommy’s words floated out into the cold air.

“I thought you’d be happy for me, Joel,” Tommy said, his voice carrying a mix of frustration and concern. “I’m going to be a father. Can you believe that? I thought—hell, I thought you’d understand more than anyone.”

There was a long pause before Joel responded, and you could practically feel the weight of what was about to come.

“I don’t know if I want to be a father again,” Joel said, his voice low, almost too quiet to hear. It wasn’t a confession so much as an admission, like it was something he hadn’t even allowed himself to think about until now. “Tommy… it’s different this time.”

“You’ve got someone, Joel. She’s—she’s carrying your kid. That’s not something you just walk away from,” Tommy replied, clearly trying to keep his patience. “You don’t get to be scared and check out now. That’s not you. At least, that’s not the brother I know.”

“I know that,” Joel said, but there was a tremor in his voice that betrayed him. “But I’ve been through this before. And it didn’t end well. What if I can’t do it again? What if I can’t protect them?”

Tommy’s voice softened. “You’re not the same man you were back then. And you’ve got people now. You’re not alone in this, Joel. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”

Another silence followed, and you found yourself holding your breath, waiting for Joel to say something—anything—that would give you an idea of what he was feeling. But when he spoke again, his voice was strained, full of conflict.

“I want to be there for them. I do. But I don’t know how to be a father anymore. After Sarah... it feels like too much.”

Hearing him say her name, his late daughter, hit you like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t heard Joel talk about Sarah much, but you knew how deeply her loss had affected him. The silence that followed was thick with emotion, as if Tommy was waiting for his brother to find the words he was searching for.

“Then learn, Joel,” Tommy finally said, his tone soft but firm. “You can still be a father. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be you trying.”

You could hear the clink of glasses as Tommy poured them both a drink. Joel didn’t respond right away, and you took that as your cue to move away from the window, giving them the space they needed.

As you walked away from the window, your thoughts swirling with everything you’d just overheard, you almost didn’t notice Maria approaching from down the street. Her footsteps were quiet on the dirt path, and by the time you spotted her, she was already close enough to call your name.

“Hey,” Maria greeted softly, her eyes warm but cautious. She seemed to sense the heaviness on your shoulders. “I was just coming by to check on you. How’re you settling in?”

You managed a small smile, though the weight of what you’d overheard lingered in your chest. “It’s... good. It’s a lot to take in, but it’s good here.”

Maria studied your face for a moment, as if she could see the mix of emotions brewing beneath the surface. She gave a small nod, choosing not to press. Instead, she shifted the conversation to something else. “I wanted to let you know, we’ve got an ultrasound machine here in town. It’s old, but it works. If you want, we could take a look at the baby, make sure everything’s okay.”

Her offer took you by surprise, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. The thought of seeing the baby—of actually hearing its heartbeat, seeing it move—was both exciting and terrifying. You hadn’t had the chance for anything like this since leaving the QZ, and the opportunity stirred a mixture of emotions you hadn’t quite prepared for.

“I… I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down at your belly.

Maria smiled gently, her understanding clear. “I get it. It can be overwhelming, especially with everything you’ve been through. But maybe it’ll help. You were out there for so long, it wouldn’t be bad give it a check.

You hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Yeah, maybe. I think I’d like that.”

“Good,” Maria said, her smile growing. “Okay, let’s go”

“What now?” you asked, surprised and afraid, there was a strange feeling on your heart at the thought of seeing your baby for the first time.

Maria chuckled softly, sensing your hesitation. “No time like the present,” she said, her voice calm and reassuring. “I know it’s a lot, but you’ve been through worse. This is something good, something for you. And for the baby.”

You felt a flutter of nerves as the reality of it hit you—the idea of seeing the baby, confirming its presence in a way that was more than just kicks and feelings. It was a lot to take in, and your heart raced at the thought.

“But... what if something’s wrong?” you blurted out, your voice quieter than you intended. It was a fear you hadn’t allowed yourself to voice until now, but it was there, gnawing at the back of your mind.

Maria’s expression softened even more. “That’s exactly why we check. If something’s wrong, we’ll know, and we’ll take care of it. But listen, you’ve come this far. You’re strong, and so is your baby.” She placed a gentle hand on your arm, grounding you. “You’re not alone anymore, okay?”

Her words gave you a sense of comfort you hadn’t realized you needed. You took a deep breath and nodded, more firmly this time. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Maria smiled again, “Do you want to find Joel first?” she asked

But you thought about his words, and said no.

You shook your head, the memory of Joel's hesitant confession weighing on your mind. "No," you said quietly, but with conviction. "Not right now."

Maria studied your face for a moment, her expression thoughtful but understanding. She didn’t push, simply nodded. "Alright," she said gently. "This is your moment, then. Just you and the baby."

You appreciated her respect for your choice. As much as you wanted Joel to be there, to share this experience with you, part of you knew he wasn’t ready. He needed time to sort through his own fears, and you needed this moment to yourself, to connect with the life growing inside you without the burden of anyone else's emotions.

“Let’s go,” you said, your voice firmer now, a strange mix of nerves and excitement bubbling up inside you.

Maria led the way back toward the clinic, with Ellie joining you both, the air cool and crisp as you walked through the quiet streets of Jackson. Inside, the warmth of the room wrapped around you, soothing some of your tension. As you lay back on the table, ready to see your baby for the first time, you felt a flicker of hope, a hope that despite everything, you and this little life inside you could make it.

The door creaked open, and the doctor stepped in. He was tall, with tousled brown hair and kind eyes that immediately locked onto yours. There was a brief pause as he stood in the doorway, his expression shifting from professionalism to something softer, almost as if he were momentarily caught off guard.

"Hi, I’m Dr. Paul..." he trailed off, his gaze lingering on you just a second too long before he quickly composed himself, stepping further into the room. "Paul Mesner," he added, clearing his throat, his tone now more formal, though there was a warmth in it that you couldn’t quite place.

You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, unsure of the sudden tension that filled the small room. It wasn’t overwhelming, but you could feel something shift in the air, as though Paul had felt something the moment he laid eyes on you.

Maria, standing by your side, glanced between the two of you, raising an eyebrow but choosing not to comment.

As you lay back on the examination table, the soft hum of the ultrasound machine filled the room. Maria stood nearby, and Ellie sat on a chair in the corner, her legs bouncing restlessly. Paul prepared the equipment, his movements efficient but gentle.

Ellie glanced around nervously, trying to act cool, but you could see the curiosity and excitement in her eyes. “So… this is where we get to see the little peanut?” she asked, her voice trying to mask her eagerness.

You smiled at her, feeling a sense of comfort that she was here. “Yeah, Ellie. This is where we’ll see the baby.”

When Paul applied the gel to your belly, Ellie’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t say anything, her attention fully focused on the screen. As the image flickered to life, the small form of the baby appeared, its heartbeat strong and steady. The room seemed to hold its breath.

He guided you through the process, explaining each step, though his voice was gentle, almost reverent. As the cold gel touched your skin and the machine came to life, Paul’s eyes never strayed far from yours. When he finally looked at the screen, the image of your baby appeared, and so it’s heart beating that filled the silence of the room.

“There it is,” Paul said softly, the awe clear in his voice. He glanced at you with that same warmth, but your focus was entirely on the screen. But when he looked at you again, there was something undeniably personal in his eyes, like you were the only person in the room.

Ellie leaned forward; her face lit up with wonder. “Holy shit… that’s… that’s the baby?”

You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away from the tiny form. “Yeah, that’s the baby.”

Ellie’s gaze flickered from the screen to you, then back again. “That’s… insane. It’s real,” she whispered, her usual bravado melting away in the face of something she couldn’t joke about.

Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at the tiny image on the screen, tears welling in your eyes.

As you stared at the tiny, flickering heartbeat on the screen, a rush of emotions overwhelmed you. Tears blurred your vision, but you couldn’t look away from the image. It was real—your baby, alive and growing inside of you. The room was quiet, except for the steady thrum of the baby’s heartbeat echoing in the air, a soft, rhythmic reminder that you were carrying a new life.

“Ellie,” you whispered, looking at her, “you’re going to be part of this too. You’re family.”

Ellie blinked, clearly moved by your words, though she quickly masked it with a grin. “Thank you” she said, smiling down at you.

Paul’s gentle voice brought you back, and when you glanced up at him, he was still looking at you, his eyes filled with something more than just professional care. It was warmth, empathy... maybe something else.

"You’re doing really well," he said again, his voice barely above a whisper, as though he didn’t want to break the delicate atmosphere of the moment.

You smiled weakly, feeling the tears spill over, but you quickly wiped them away. "I wasn’t sure what to expect," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "But hearing the heartbeat... it’s incredible."

Paul nodded, his gaze still steady on you, his expression soft. "It’s a moment that changes everything," he said, his voice full of sincerity. "You’ll remember this for the rest of your life."

His words settled over you like a blanket of reassurance, and for the first time since you had arrived in Jackson, you felt a small sense of peace. There was still so much uncertainty ahead, but in this moment, everything felt possible.

Maria, who had been standing quietly off to the side, finally broke the silence. "It’s beautiful, isn’t it?" she said, her voice filled with genuine warmth. She walked over to you and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You’ve been through so much, but you’re going to be okay here."

You nodded, grateful for the support. But your thoughts drifted back to Joel, to the conversation you had overheard between him and Tommy. You couldn’t help but wonder how he would react when he saw this—when he heard the heartbeat and realized what was truly at stake.

But for now, you allowed yourself to just be in the moment, surrounded by the quiet reassurance of Maria’s words and Paul’s steady presence.

"Thank you," you whispered, meeting Paul’s eyes again.

He smiled, the corners of his mouth tugging upward just slightly. "Anytime," he said softly, and for a moment, it felt like he wasn’t just talking about the ultrasound.

As you, Ellie and Maria gathered your things and prepared to leave the small room, you felt Paul’s eyes lingering on you, even as you reached for the door. His gaze was soft, but intense, as if he couldn’t tear himself away. It left a strange flutter in your chest, a mix of emotions you weren’t ready to unpack.

“Thanks, Paul” you said, honestly, smiling at him.

Maria, standing by your side, must have noticed too. When you touched the door handle, ready to step out, she placed a gentle hand on your arm. “Wait for me outside,” she said, her voice calm but firm.

You hesitated, glancing between her and Paul, but then nodded, stepping out into the cool air of the hallway. As the door clicked shut behind you, a strange tension filled the room you had just left.

Inside, Maria turned to Paul, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. His gaze had been a little too fixated on you, and Maria’s protective instincts kicked in immediately.

"Paul," she began, her voice quiet but filled with a clear warning. "Don’t ever think about it."

Paul blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Maria took a step closer, her expression hardening. "I saw the way you were looking at her. But you need to understand something—she’s not here alone. The baby’s father is here in Jackson."

Paul’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, though he quickly tried to mask it. "I wasn’t—" he started, but Maria cut him off.

"Tommy’s brother," she said, her voice low and steady. "That’s the father. And trust me, you don’t want to get involved in that kind of situation."

Paul looked taken aback, the realization sinking in. He glanced down, his expression shifting as the weight of her words hit him. "I didn’t mean any disrespect, Maria," he said quietly, his tone more subdued now. "I just—"

"I know you didn’t," she replied, softening just a bit. "But I’m telling you now, for your own sake. Stay professional. Keep it that way."

Paul nodded, the intensity in his gaze dimming, replaced by something more resigned. "Understood," he muttered, his voice low.

Maria gave him a long, measured look before turning to leave. As she opened the door, she glanced back one last time, as if to reinforce her message. Then, without another word, she stepped outside to join you.

You and Ellie were waiting just outside, leaning against the wall, lost in thought. When Maria emerged, she gave you a small, reassuring smile.

"Ready to head back?" she asked, her tone light, as if the conversation inside had never happened.

You nodded, pushing yourself off the wall.

The makeshift theater was packed with people from the community, the flickering light from the old projector casting shadows on the walls. It felt surreal, sitting there with everyone, watching a movie like things were normal. For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to sink into that illusion—into the laughter, the shared smiles, the warmth of the crowd around you.

But then you saw Joel, after missing him for the whole day.

He was sitting a few rows ahead, his posture tense, eyes focused on the screen but not really watching. You’d been keeping an eye on him ever since you got there, sensing the turmoil still brewing beneath the surface. As the movie played on, Joel stood quietly and slipped out of the room, unnoticed by most. Except for you.

Something stirred in your chest, a familiar pull that you couldn’t ignore. You glanced around, checking if anyone else noticed, but everyone was still absorbed in the film. Quietly, you stood and followed him out, slipping through the door into the cold night air.

The streets of Jackson were quiet, the sound of the movie muffled behind you as you walked. You could see Joel ahead, his figure silhouetted against the dim streetlights. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his steps slow, like he wasn’t sure where he was going, just that he needed to get away.

“Joel,” you called softly, your voice breaking the silence.

He stopped but didn’t turn around immediately. You quickened your pace, coming up beside him. When you reached him, he finally looked at you, his expression a mix of exhaustion and something deeper—something you couldn’t quite place.

"You okay?" you asked gently, though you already knew the answer.

Joel let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping as if the weight he’d been carrying all night had become too much. "Just needed some air," he muttered, his voice rough, but not unkind.

You fell into step beside him, walking in silence for a while, letting the quiet between you settle. You knew Joel wasn’t one to open up easily, and you didn’t want to push him. But you couldn’t just leave him to his thoughts, not when you knew he was struggling.

"Talk to me, Joel," you said softly. "What’s going on?"

He was silent for a moment, his jaw tightening as he tried to find the right words. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know if I can do this."

Your heart tightened at his words. "Do what?"

"All of it," he said, his voice strained. "Being here... with you, the baby. It feels like I’m tryin’ to fit into somethin’ I don’t deserve. I don’t know how to be this person anymore."

You stopped walking, turning to face him, the moonlight casting shadows across his face. "Joel, you don’t have to have it all figured out. None of us do."

He shook his head, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I want to be there for you, for the baby, but I don’t know if I can protect you. I’m scared I’ll fail again."

The mention of his past failures cut deep, and you could see the ghosts of his memories haunting him. Sarah. The QZ. Every person he couldn’t save.

"You won’t fail," you said firmly, stepping closer, placing a hand on his arm. “I saw the baby today” you said with a tiny smile appearing.

His eyes flickered up to meet yours, a hint of surprise breaking through the heaviness that surrounded him. "What do you mean, you saw the baby?" he asked, the tension in his voice softening just a fraction.

You took a breath, feeling warmth spread through you at the memory. "Maria took me for an ultrasound. It was… incredible. I felt the heartbeat, Joel. It’s real. There’s a little life in there."

A mixture of emotions crossed his face, curiosity, wonder, and a flicker of fear. "And? What was it like?"

You smiled wider now, unable to contain the joy bubbling within you. "It was amazing. The little form on the screen, just... there. It made everything feel more possible, like maybe we really could do this."

For a moment, Joel’s expression softened, and you could see the flicker of hope behind his eyes. "That’s… good," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, almost as if he was afraid to believe it.

"It is," you reassured him, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between you. "And you’re going to be a part of that, Joel. You’re not just the protector; you’ll be a father. And I know it’s scary, but it’s also something to live for."

He looked down, his brow furrowing as he processed your words. "You really think so?"

"I know so," you said, reaching up to cup his face again, letting your thumb brush gently across his cheek. "You’re already so protective of us, and that matters more than you realize. You’ll figure it out as we go along."

As you stood there, the world around you faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in that intimate moment. Something in Joel shifted, the walls he had built around his heart starting to crumble. You could see the conflict within him, fear battling against a yearning to embrace this new reality.

With a gentle tug on his shirt, you pulled him closer, your heart racing in anticipation. "Trust me," you whispered, your eyes locking onto his.

And then, without overthinking it, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his. The kiss was tentative at first, a mingling of uncertainty and hope. But as he responded, deepening the kiss, you felt a wave of warmth wash over you, as if the two of you were forging a new bond amidst the chaos.

His hands found your waist, holding you close, and for those brief moments, it felt like everything else faded away, your fears, the weight of the past, the uncertain future. It was just you and him, sharing something genuine and profound.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you breathing heavily, the world outside momentarily forgotten. The flicker of fear in his eyes had shifted to something softer, more determined.

"You really mean it," he said, his voice rough but filled with newfound conviction.

"I do," you replied, smiling up at him. "We’re in this together, Joel. No matter what."

He nodded, a faint smile breaking through the weight he had been carrying.

As the warmth of the moment lingered, Joel’s hands moved gently to your belly, resting there as if he were trying to connect with the little life growing inside you. His expression softened, and a protective instinct shone in his eyes.

“Get some rest,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “You’ve been through a lot today. We both have.”

You nodded, appreciating the concern in his tone. “I will. But I want you to come back soon, okay?”

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I will. Just need a minute to clear my head.”

With a lingering touch, he pulled his hands away, and you felt a strange mix of warmth and longing as he stepped back. “I’ll see you in a bit,” he promised, his gaze still fixed on you, as if he were memorizing every detail.

You turned, feeling lighter, ready to head back inside and allow yourself the rest you needed. As you walked away, you glanced over your shoulder one last time, catching his eye. The connection between you remained palpable, and you knew that this was just the beginning of something profound.

As you stepped back into the house, the warmth hit you immediately, chasing away the cool night air. Ellie was sprawled on the couch, flipping through a book she'd found earlier, her legs crossed as she absentmindedly skimmed the pages.

She looked up as you entered, her face softening into a lopsided grin. "You okay?" she asked, her tone casual, but you could hear the concern behind it.

You nodded, sitting down beside her. "Yeah. Just needed to talk with Joel for a bit."

Ellie studied your face, her eyes sharp. "And? Everything good?"

You smiled gently, trying to reassure her. "It will be. We’re figuring things out, one step at a time." You hesitated for a moment before continuing, "You know, we could be a family here. You, me, Joel… and the baby."

Ellie blinked, her usual tough exterior cracking just a bit. She let out a breath, leaning back against the couch. "A family, huh?" she muttered, her voice almost too soft for her usual snark. "Never really had one of those."

"You do now," you said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It’s not perfect. None of this is. But we’re all in this together."

Ellie let the words sink in, her eyes drifting toward the window as if trying to imagine what a life here could be. "Guess I could stick around," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Teach the kid how to shoot and stuff."

You chuckled softly.

+++++++++++++

Meanwhile, on the other side of the community, Joel sat at the bar with Tommy, the weight of his emotions too much to bear any longer. He stared down at the whiskey in his hand, his knuckles white from gripping the glass too hard.

"Tommy…" Joel’s voice was low, broken, as if the words were being pulled from some deep, hidden place. "I need you to do something for me."

Tommy frowned, concern flickering across his face. "What is it?"

Joel swallowed hard; his throat tight. His eyes were red, the strain of the day finally catching up with him. "I need you to take Ellie to the Fireflies."

Tommy blinked; his confusion clear. "What? Joel, -“

"She’s immune” Joel cut him off, his voice cracking as tears welled up in his eyes. "But I can’t do it I can’t take her.  I don’t have the heart to leave my woman behind.”

Tommy’s gaze softened, understanding dawning on him. "You mean…"

"She’s pregnant, Tommy. I can’t take her with us. I can’t risk her life or the baby’s. And I can’t just leave them behind, not after everything." Joel’s voice wavered, his hands shaking as he finally let the tears fall, his tough exterior crumbling. "I thought I could do it… thought I could keep everyone safe, but I’m just not strong enough.”

Tommy leaned forward, his expression torn between concern and disbelief. "Joel, you don’t have to do this alone. You’ve got people here. You’ve got me."

Joel shook his head, wiping at his eyes. "Ellie needs to get to the Fireflies, for the cure. It’s what she’s meant for. But I can’t go, not with the baby coming. I need you to do this for me, Tommy. Please."

Tommy was silent for a long time, his heart breaking for his brother. "Joel… are you sure?"

Joel’s shoulders slumped as he nodded, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. "I don’t want to lose her, but I can’t lose them either. I can’t make this choice."

Tommy sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. "Alright," he finally said, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ll take Ellie. But, Joel...”

Joel took a shaky breath, his hands trembling as he gripped the edge of the bar. “It’s not just Ellie, Tommy. It’s me too.” His voice cracked, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself be vulnerable. “I’ve been having these panic attacks. Can’t breathe, can’t think straight. I… I haven’t felt this way since… since Sarah.”

Tommy's eyes widened, a mixture of shock and concern flooding his expression. "Joel…"

“I try to hold it together, but I’m falling apart, man. And I don’t know how to stop it,” Joel confessed, his voice breaking. “I’ll be out there, trying to protect her, trying to protect all of us, and suddenly it hits me — like a damn freight train. My chest tightens, my heart races, and I feel like… like I’m losing control.”

Tommy was silent for a moment, letting the weight of Joel’s words sink in. He'd seen his brother take on the world, survive impossible situations, but this was different. This was something Joel couldn’t fight with his fists or a gun.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Joel whispered, running a hand through his hair. "I'm scared all the time, Tommy. Scared that I’ll mess it up. That I’ll lose Ellie. That I’ll lose..." He faltered, swallowing hard. “That I’ll lose them both.”

Tommy stepped closer; his voice gentle but firm. “You don’t have to carry this alone, Joel. You never did. It’s okay to feel this way, man. No one expects you to be invincible.”

Joel let out a bitter laugh, though there was no humor in it. “But that’s what I’ve always had to be, ain’t it? The strong one. The protector. I don’t know how to be anything else.”

“You’ve been protecting people your whole damn life,” Tommy said, his tone filled with empathy. “But now… now it’s time to let people protect you too.”

Joel’s eyes were red, his jaw tight as he fought the urge to break down. “I don’t know if I can do this without her. Without them.”

“You don’t have to,” Tommy said quietly. “But I’ll take Ellie to the Fireflies. I promise I’ll keep her safe. You take care of yourself, Joel. Take care of the family you’re building here. You’ve earned that.”

Joel nodded; his heart heavy but grateful for Tommy’s understanding. He still felt the crushing weight of his fears, but for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel completely alone. Tommy was there. Ellie was there. You were there. And soon, there would be a baby who needed him too.

But still, his tears silently fell as he tried to hold himself together. This was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, and it tore him apart inside. But he knew it was the only way to protect the people he loved. Even if it meant letting go.

+++++++++++++

You sat on the couch with Ellie, the warmth of the fire crackling in the fireplace nearby, casting a soft glow across the room. Ellie was watching the flames, her mind elsewhere, while you found yourself glancing down at your belly again, thinking about everything that was changing, everything that was coming.

“Ellie,” you began softly, breaking the comfortable silence between you. She turned her head slightly, her expression expectant. “I’ve been thinking… Would you wait until after the baby is born to go to the Fireflies? Just a little longer?”

Ellie’s brow furrowed slightly, as if the idea weighed heavily on her. She didn’t answer right away, and you could see the internal struggle flicker in her eyes.

“I know you want to help,” you continued, your voice gentle. “I know you want to be the cure, to make a difference. But… it’s dangerous out there. And I don’t want to lose you.”

Ellie shifted uncomfortably, pulling her knees up to her chest as she stared down at the floor. “It’s not about me, though,” she said, her voice low but steady. “I get it, you want me to stay, but the cure... it could give the baby a better future. It could give everyone a better future. And I can’t just sit here while I have the chance to do that.”

Her words struck you deep, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for wanting her to stay, to keep her close, to keep her safe. But Ellie had always been selfless, always thinking of others, always wanting to make things better.

You sighed, resting a hand on your belly as the weight of her words sank in. “I just want you to be safe, Ellie. You mean a lot to all of us. And I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Ellie smiled faintly, though her expression was filled with understanding. “I know. But… if I can do something to stop all of this, the infection, the danger, then the baby… they won’t have to grow up like this. They could have a real life, without the constant fear of what’s out there.”

The thought of that future, one where the baby didn’t have to face the same horrors that you and Ellie had, made your heart ache. She was right, and that was what made it so hard.

Ellie noticed the worry lines forming on your forehead and reached over, giving your arm a gentle nudge. “Hey,” she said, her voice softening, “don’t stress yourself out. You’ve got enough to think about. Go and rest. You need to take care of yourself, and the peanut.”

You offered her a tired smile, appreciating the concern in her tone. “You sound like Joel.”

Ellie smirked. “Guess he’s rubbing off on me.”

You laughed softly, but the weight of the conversation still hung in the air. “Just… promise me you’ll think about it, Ellie. Please.”

Ellie met your gaze, her eyes serious. “I’ll think about it,” she said, and though you knew her mind was made up, her words gave you a small sense of comfort.

With that, you slowly stood, feeling the fatigue settle into your bones. Ellie watched you with a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Go rest, Mom-to-be,” she teased. “I’ll be here.”

You chuckled softly, grateful for the lightness she brought to the moment. “Alright, alright. I’m going. Good night, Ellie.”

“Good night” she replied, smiling as you entered the bedroom.

Joel stood outside for what felt like an eternity, staring into the darkness, weighed down by the decision he had made. He knew it was the right thing to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. The thought of sending Ellie away with Tommy gnawed at him, the fear of losing her or failing her again tightening around his chest like a vice.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, he walked back into the house, his footsteps slow and hesitant. The place was quiet, a stillness that only made the ache in his heart more pronounced. He stopped by the door to your bedroom, hearing the soft rhythm of your breathing. You were resting, just like you needed to be.

But there was another conversation he couldn’t avoid.

Joel walked down the hall to Ellie’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and he could see her sitting on the edge of her bed, lost in her own thoughts. She turned her head when she noticed him, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“What’s up?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual, but there was an edge to her voice that Joel couldn’t ignore.

Joel hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. He couldn’t meet her gaze right away. “Ellie, we need to talk,” he said, his voice low and thick with the weight of his words.

She sat up straighter, sensing that something was wrong. “What is it? What happened?”

Joel rubbed a hand over his face, trying to find the right words, but all that came out was, “Tommy’s taking you to the Fireflies.”

The room fell into a tense silence, Ellie’s eyes widening in shock before narrowing in anger. “What? No,” she said, her voice rising. “You’re supposed to take me. That was the plan!”

“I can’t,” Joel replied, his voice breaking just slightly as he tried to keep his composure. “I can’t leave them behind. Not with the baby coming.”

“Are you kidding me?” Ellie snapped, standing up now, her fists clenched at her sides. “You’re just gonna pass me off to Tommy like I’m some burden? What the hell, Joel?”

“It’s not like that,” Joel said, shaking his head, but the guilt was already eating at him. “I’m trying to protect you.”

Ellie scoffed, her frustration boiling over. “Protect me? you’re just okay with sending me away? Why can’t you take me?”

Joel took a deep breath, the panic rising inside him. “Ellie, I’ve been having these panic attacks,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “I can’t—I’m not strong enough anymore. I can’t do it. I can’t protect you the way I need to, not with all of this happening. I don’t want to fail you.”

Ellie’s anger wavered for a moment, her eyes searching his face. “Joel…,” she said, her voice softer now. “You’re not gonna fail me. You never have.”

“I already have,” Joel whispered, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Too many times. I couldn’t save Sarah. I couldn’t stop Tess from getting hurt. I won’t let you get hurt too, Ellie. And I can’t leave them—her, the baby—behind. I just can’t.”

Ellie’s face softened, but the frustration was still there. “Joel, I don’t want Tommy to take me. I want you. We’ve been through all of this together. It’s you and me. You don’t get to just hand me off when it gets hard.”

Joel’s eyes were wet now, the emotions too much to hold back. “I’m trying to keep you safe, Ellie. That’s all I want.”

Joel stood outside for what felt like an eternity, staring into the darkness, weighed down by the decision he had made. He knew it was the right thing to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. The thought of sending Ellie away with Tommy gnawed at him, the fear of losing her or failing her again tightening around his chest like a vice.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, he walked back into the house, his footsteps slow and hesitant. The place was quiet, a stillness that only made the ache in his heart more pronounced. He stopped by the door to your bedroom, hearing the soft rhythm of your breathing. You were resting, just like you needed to be.

But there was another conversation he couldn’t avoid.

Joel walked down the hall to Ellie’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and he could see her sitting on the edge of her bed, lost in her own thoughts. She turned her head when she noticed him, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“What’s up?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual, but there was an edge to her voice that Joel couldn’t ignore.

Joel hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. He couldn’t meet her gaze right away. “Ellie, we need to talk,” he said, his voice low and thick with the weight of his words.

She sat up straighter, sensing that something was wrong. “What is it? What happened?”

Joel rubbed a hand over his face, trying to find the right words, but all that came out was, “Tommy’s taking you to the Fireflies.”

The room fell into a tense silence, Ellie’s eyes widening in shock before narrowing in anger. “What? No,” she said, her voice rising. “You’re supposed to take me. That was the plan!”

“I can’t,” Joel replied, his voice breaking just slightly as he tried to keep his composure. “I can’t leave them behind. Not with the baby coming.”

“Are you kidding me?” Ellie snapped, standing up now, her fists clenched at her sides. “You’re just gonna pass me off to Tommy like I’m some burden? What the hell, Joel?”

“It’s not like that,” Joel said, shaking his head, but the guilt was already eating at him. “I’m trying to protect you.”

Ellie scoffed, her frustration boiling over. “Protect me? I thought you didn’t want me to go at all, and now you’re just okay with sending me away? Why can’t you take me?”

Joel took a deep breath, the panic rising inside him. “Ellie, I’ve been having these panic attacks,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “I can’t—I’m not strong enough anymore. I can’t do it. I can’t protect you the way I need to, not with all of this happening. I don’t want to fail you.”

Ellie’s anger wavered for a moment, her eyes searching his face. “Joel…,” she said, her voice softer now. “You’re not gonna fail me. You never have.”

“I already have,” Joel whispered, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Too many times. I couldn’t save Sarah. I couldn’t stop Tess from getting hurt. I won’t let you get hurt too, Ellie. And I can’t leave them—her, the baby—behind. I just can’t.”

Ellie’s face softened, but the frustration was still there. “Joel, I don’t want Tommy to take me. I want you. We’ve been through all of this together. It’s you and me. You don’t get to just hand me off when it gets hard.”

Joel’s eyes were wet now, the emotions too much to hold back. “I’m trying to keep you safe, Ellie. That’s all I want.”

“I know,” she said, her voice wavering. “But you’re all I’ve got. You can’t just let me go like that.”

They stood there in the quiet room, both of them battling their own fears and emotions. Joel wiped at his eyes, trying to collect himself.

“I’m not abandoning you,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t make this choice. I can’t risk losing all of you. Tommy… he’s strong. He’ll get you there.”

Ellie shook her head, frustration flashing across her face. “You’re not listening. I don’t want Tommy to take me—I want you.”

Joel looked at her, his heart twisting. He hated this, hated that he was letting her down. “Ellie... I’m not your father,” he said, his voice cracking with the weight of the admission. He had never said it out loud like this, and it hit him as hard as it hit her.

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Ellie looked like she’d been slapped. Her face hardened, jaw clenched. “Well,” she started, her voice sharp and bitter, “your girlfriend told me we could be a family.” She glared at him, daring him to contradict her.

Joel winced. The truth of it stung, the possibility of a family he didn’t feel worthy of. “I know,” he murmured, struggling to find the right thing to say. “But Ellie, that doesn’t mean I can risk everything—risk you—for a chance at something that might never come.”

Ellie shook her head, her eyes filling with tears she refused to let fall. “You don’t get it, do you?” she whispered. “I don’t want a family that leaves me behind when things get tough. I don’t want Tommy, or anyone else. I just want you.”

Joel’s heart shattered at her words. He saw the hurt, the fear of abandonment in her eyes, and it crushed him. He stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off.

“Ellie, please...” Joel started, but she cut him off, her voice trembling with emotion.

“No, Joel. You don’t get to decide what’s best for me without even asking me what I want. We’ve been through too much for that. And now, just when we could finally be something—be a family—you’re pushing me away.”

“I’m trying to keep you safe,” Joel repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“And what if I don’t want safe?” Ellie shot back, her voice shaking with frustration. “What if I want you?”

Joel swallowed hard, unable to find the words to answer her. He had spent so long keeping her at arm’s length, convincing himself that it was for her own good. But now, standing here, watching her fight to stay close to him, he realized how much he needed her too. How much she had become a part of his life, of him.

Joel’s jaw clenched, the weight of everything pressing down on him. He didn’t want to hurt Ellie, didn’t want to push her away, but he felt trapped. Torn between protecting her and staying with the new life that was growing inside you. He took a deep breath, his voice low and firm, but his heart breaking as he spoke.

“That’s final, Ellie,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’ll go with Tommy.”

The words seemed to echo in the room, heavy and irreversible. Ellie’s face crumpled in disbelief, anger flashing through her eyes, but before she could respond, Joel turned and walked out, the ache in his chest almost unbearable.

He moved through the quiet house, his footsteps heavy, his heart even heavier. His mind raced with guilt, fear, and uncertainty. He didn’t want to lose Ellie, but he also couldn’t leave you behind, not with the baby on the way. He just couldn’t.

As he reached the bedroom where you were sleeping, he paused in the doorway. The soft sound of your steady breathing filled the room, offering a strange kind of peace amidst the chaos swirling inside him. Joel leaned against the doorframe, his eyes fixed on your sleeping form, wondering how everything had become so complicated.

He stepped inside, moving quietly so as not to wake you. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he ran a hand through his hair, staring down at his hands as if the answers to his problems might appear there. The weight of his decision pressed down on him, and for the first time in a long while, Joel felt truly lost.

You stirred in your sleep, sensing his presence. Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light in the room. Seeing Joel sitting there, shoulders slumped, staring down at his hands, you felt a surge of concern wash over you.

“What’s wrong?” you asked softly, your voice groggy from sleep but laced with worry.

Joel flinched slightly, as if he hadn’t expected you to wake up. He shook his head, his eyes not meeting yours. “Nothin’,” he muttered, his voice quiet and strained. “Go back to sleep.”

But you knew better. You could see the tension in his body, the heaviness in his expression. You reached out, gently touching his arm, urging him to lie down beside you. “Joel… talk to me.”

He hesitated for a moment, the weight of the world still pressing down on him. But instead of saying anything, he let out a long breath and slid under the covers next to you. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if every action carried the burden he was trying to hide.

You shifted closer to him, resting your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, steady but faster than usual. His arm wrapped around you almost instinctively, holding you close, but you could feel the tension in his muscles, the internal battle he was fighting.

“You don’t have to carry it all on your own,” you whispered, your hand gently tracing patterns on his chest.

Joel’s arm tightened around you, but he didn’t respond right away. After a long silence, he finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “I’m tryin’ to keep everything together… for you, for the baby… for Ellie.”

You looked up at him, your heart aching at the sight of the pain etched into his face. “And who’s keeping you together, Joel?”

He didn’t answer. He just held you tighter, as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded in that moment. The silence stretched between you, heavy but comforting in its own way.

Joel exhaled slowly, the tension in his body softening just a little as he held you close. He could feel your warmth against him, the steady rhythm of your breath, and it made something inside him loosen—a little piece of that ever-present weight.

He ran a hand through your hair, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know,” he started, his rough tone softening, “I used to think I was too broken for this… for love, for family, for you.”

You lifted your head slightly, looking at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Joel…”

But he continued, his words flowing quietly into the night. “But you—you’ve been so good to me. You, with your stubbornness and your heart… you gave me somethin’ I thought I’d never have again. You make me want to be better. For you, for the baby.”

His hand traced slow, gentle circles on your back, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly, the heaviness in the air easing just a little. “You’re a sap, Joel,” you teased, though your heart was fluttering at his words.

Joel chuckled, the sound low and raspy, but it carried a warmth you hadn’t heard from him in a while. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” he said with a small smirk, his eyes softening as he looked at you.

You settled back against his chest, your cheek pressed to the steady rise and fall of his breath. His hand continued to stroke your back, grounding both of you in that moment. But even as the quiet warmth between you spread, you could feel there was something deeper weighing on him still.

After a few moments, Joel spoke again, this time more serious. “There’s somethin’ I gotta do. And you’re not gonna like it.”

You shifted slightly, lifting your head to look at him again, your brows furrowing with concern. “Joel, what do you mean?”

His eyes flickered with something—guilt, regret—but he swallowed it down, forcing a gentle smile for you. “You’re gonna hate me for a little while, darlin’. But I need to do what’s right. For you. For Ellie. For this family.”

You opened your mouth to protest, worry creeping into your chest, but Joel stopped you with a soft kiss on your forehead. “Just trust me,” he whispered. “I’ll make it right.”

You searched his eyes, seeing the weight of the decision he had made. Part of you wanted to push, to ask him what he meant, but the other part knew better. Joel had always carried the burden of protecting those he loved, even when it hurt him.

Eventually, the quiet comfort of his presence and the exhaustion of the day began to take over. You rested your head back on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath you.

“I trust you, Joel,” you whispered, though your mind still whirled with questions.

He held you close, his arm tightening around you, and for a moment, he felt like he could breathe again. But he knew, deep down, that the decision he had made would change things. For better or worse, he would protect the people he loved, even if it meant you’d be angry with him for a time.

As your breathing began to slow, sleep tugging at you, Joel leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I love you,” he whispered into the quiet, his voice raw with emotion. “No matter what happens. I love you.”

You didn’t respond, already drifting off to sleep on his chest, but the warmth of his words followed you into your dreams.

Joel he couldn’t stop feeling his heart breaking at the sight of you sleeping on his chest right now. He had made you believe that safety was a place wherever he was, he made you believe that you were going to have a place to sleep next to him to keep the demons away.

Joel, still wide awake, stared at the ceiling, the weight of his decision settling heavily over him. But for now, with you sleeping peacefully beside him, he could pretend that everything would be okay, just for a little while longer.

You slowly woke to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, stretching and blinking against the brightness. As your mind cleared, you reached for Joel, but the spot next to you was empty. A sense of unease settled in your stomach.

Sitting up, you glanced around the room, noticing the stillness. That’s when your eyes caught sight of a folded piece of paper on the nightstand, the sight of it sending a rush of anxiety through you. You could see your name written in Joel's familiar handwriting, and your heart sank.

You reached for the letter, your fingers trembling slightly as you unfolded it. The words blurred for a moment, but you forced yourself to focus, the reality of the situation washing over you as you read:

Darlin’,

I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I have to do this. I’m leaving you here while I take Ellie to the Fireflies. I thought long and hard about it, and I believe it’s what’s best for all of us.

I can’t risk losing you or the baby. I don’t want to drag you into danger. This is something Ellie needs to do, and I can’t leave her behind. I hope you can understand.

You’re stronger than you know, and I trust you to take care of yourself. I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise. Just… please take care of yourself and the baby.

I love you.

—Joel

Your heart raced as you reread the letter, each line cutting deeper than the last. Confusion, anger, and heartbreak swirled within you, each emotion colliding as you tried to process his decision. He was leaving. Leaving you behind to take Ellie away, and you had no way to stop him.

You stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor as you rushed to the door, but there was only silence on the other side. You felt a surge of frustration and fear; how could he think this was for the best?

After a moment, you took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself. You could be angry later, but right now, you needed to find him. You grabbed your jacket and hurried out of the bedroom, determination pushing you forward.

“Joel!” you called out, your voice echoing through the empty house. There was no response, only the quiet that surrounded you. You raced down the hall, hoping to find him somewhere inside, but he was nowhere to be found.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stepped outside, the cool air hitting your skin. You squinted against the light, scanning the area for any sign of him.

The sight of him made your heart drop. Tommy’s face said everything. He looked worn, the weight of the situation clear in his eyes, and that only fueled your rising panic. You rushed toward him, emotions spilling over as tears began to blur your vision.

“Tommy!” you cried, your voice breaking. “Have you seen Joel? He… he’s leaving me here!”

Tommy stepped forward, his arms opening instinctively as you reached him. You collapsed into his embrace, the warmth of his support contrasting sharply with the cold fear wrapping around you. As he held you close, your tears flowed freely, each sob echoing the pain and confusion swirling inside.

“It’s okay,” Tommy murmured, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “I’m here. You’re not alone.”

You buried your face in his shoulder, the reality of the situation crashing over you like a tidal wave. “He thinks he’s doing what’s best, but he’s not! I can’t believe he would leave me.”

Tommy held you tighter, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I know. I know it hurts. But Joel cares about you—about both of you—more than anything. He’s just scared.”

“But I need him here!” you exclaimed, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes, the pain reflected back at you. “I don’t want to be left behind. We’re supposed to be a family!”

“I’m your family,” Tommy whispered, his voice steady and sincere.

You felt a flicker of comfort in his words, but it didn’t erase the emptiness Joel’s absence left behind.

………

“Tommy,” Joel had said, his voice low and urgent as he leaned closer, eyes dark with concern. “I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything,” Tommy replied, sensing the gravity of the moment.

“Take care of my baby,” Joel had insisted, his expression fierce. “Promise me they’ll be okay.”

Tommy had nodded, ready to reassure him. “Of course, Joel. I’ll do everything I can to keep the baby safe.”

But then Joel’s gaze sharpened, a hint of desperation in his voice. “No, I mean my baby,” he clarified, referring not just to the life growing inside you but to you as well. “Promise me both will be okay.”

Tommy had felt the weight of that request, the unspoken fears underlying Joel’s words. “You have my word, brother. I’ll protect them both.”

……

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[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Hugs

About time I finished this WIP that randomly appeared in my head. I've just finished defeating Cazador and mannnnnn I really really want to hug Astarion and never let him go.

Summary: Astarion learns to hug you.

“Can’t get enough of me, darling?” Astarion purrs into your ear, sliding his arm around your waist to pull you closer. He leans in, pressing a kiss to the tip of your ear before letting his lips trail downwards, sending a shiver up your spine but you push him away, placing a hand on his chest.

“We don’t need to do this.” You shake your head, “I just want you, not your body, not your services.”

He feels his heart jump into his throat, anxiety gnawing at him but he smiles outwardly anyways, as practiced. “Which part of me exactly do you want?”

“All of you,” you breathe. He blinks, surprised as you intertwine your fingers with his, a thumb gently brushing over his smooth skin. The warmth sends tingles from his arm to his body, a fuzzy feeling blooming in his chest that fills him with uncertainty.

Is this genuine love? Is this how love is supposed to feel like?

Why would you want all of him?

He cannot understand why you would want the monsterous side of him, the side that craves blood, the side that is spoken in hushed whispers, woven into stories parents tell their children to scare them into bed. He hides his fangs whenever he smiles, afraid that your gaze will be drawn to them and that they will be all you ever see of him but you never seem to be scared of them, always open to him sinking them into your soft neck so that he can drink the ambrosia that is your blood.

You place an arm around his waist, noticing that distant look in his eyes and press your chest against his, hoping the sensation will bring him back from whatever abyss he’s fallen into and his head snaps up, ruby eyes locking with yours with a look you’ve never seen in them before. You feel his hand tremble as he tentatively rests it on your back and he inhales sharply.

“If you’re not comfortable we can stop,” you murmur. “I don’t want to force you to do anything.”

“You’re…not, darling. It’s just…” He swallows. “It’s nothing.”

You narrow your eyes. If all this time spent with him has taught you something, is that every time he says ‘it’s nothing’ it’s always something.

“Astarion, you can tell me anything, but take all the time you need, alright?”

His lips quirk up for a split second, instinctively sending you a reassuring smile but the smile quickly fades, replaced by a sorrowful look. He gazes at the ground, suppressing the urge to just melt into you. You deserve someone better than him, someone who could love you properly, who understood what love truly meant and didn’t feel disgust rising every time they placed a hand on your skin because of their past. No matter how much he loves you, he’s not the best one for you.

You reach out to him, a hand gently touching his cheek but he pulls away with a snarl, fangs bared and you quickly stumble backwards, surprised at his hostility. His eyes widen when he realises what he’s done and guilt devours him even further. Your touch feels tainted, even if it lacks the usual lust and desire behind it, but that is no reason to hurt you. He forces himself to reach for your hand, muttering a quiet apology as practiced and rests it on his cheek, willing his body to remain still like always.

Doing this should be easy, he’s been doing this for centuries, so why does it feel so difficult now?

You look at him with concern, an emotion usually devoid in the eyes of those who touch him and pull your hand away of your own accord.

“I’m sorry.”

Why were you apologising? He was the one in the wrong, he was the one who had broken the moment, he was the reason the night had turned from one of tranquility to one of tension.

“There’s no need to apologise, love. Shall we continue?” He leans in once more despite the sickening smell that your scent has transformed into. “You’re just that intoxicating.”

Still, you push him away, noticing how he’s zoning out each time he moves closer to you. Worry creases your eyebrows and you take a step back, moving just out of his reach.

“Did I overstep any boundaries?” You ask. “I’m sorry if I did.”

“You didn’t, darling.” He shakes his head. “You’re far too perfect to make such mistakes.”

Far too perfect for him.

“Astarion,” you realise what’s plaguing him. “No matter how long it takes, I will always be by your side. You are my star, my entire world, no one else can possibly replace you or be better than you.”

“I shouldn’t be,” he mumbles. “I only add to your burdens.”

“Well, it’s only fair that you do that since I do the same to you.”

“No you don’t!” Astarion snaps. “Don’t you ever say that about yourself!”

He glares at you, fists clenched, his clawed fingertips digging into his palms. You raise your hands in surrender, slowly stepping away from the riled up vampire spawn upon whom realisation has dawned. He inwardly curls up even more, despising himself for taking out his anger on you and yet no matter what he does, you refuse to leave. You’re still standing there, a safe distance away but within his line of sight with no intention of leaving him. He cannot wrap his mind around why you would do such a thing, why you wouldn’t leave someone as unstable and unloveable as him, but a small part of him is grateful for that, he can’t bear to watch you leave.

“Sorry.” He chokes out, the word leaving a foreign feeling in his mouth. “I —”

“It’s alright, apology accepted.” You smile. “We should return to camp, the others must be wondering what is taking us so long.”

Astarion shifts from one leg to another, scratching the back of his neck, “wait, darling, please.”

You pause, turning around to look at him, “yes, Astarion?”

“I…” He starts. “It’s not your fault, it’s mine. Everything feels tainted, touching you feels disgusting, being so close to you feels nauseating, but it’s not your fault. It has nothing to do with you, I promise, it’s —”

“I know. You don’t have to say it out loud if you don’t want to. I’m sorry I can’t erase the past, but I want to help you forge new associations with touch.” You raise a hand, palm facing him. He does the same, shakily moving his palm closer to yours but encouraged by your smile, he presses your palms together. He swallows the bile rising to his throat and looks to you, waiting for you to make the next move. You take a step closer and he does the same, although his step is filled with much more uncertainty. You give him an encouraging nod and take another step. This time, his step is more certain, made with the signature confidence you know and love.

After a third step, the both of you are close enough that your nose fills with the scent of bergamot, rosemary and a hint of rosemary, overlaying Astarion’s real undead scent. You cautiously put an arm around his waist and when he doesn’t flinch, you grow bolder, removing your hand from his and putting the other arm around his waist.

He freezes, but the action raises no memories he’d rather keep locked away so he tries to keep himself grounded, to feel the soothing warmth of your arms around him that mean him no harm. He locks eyes with you and your gaze washes all the fear away, stirring something within him. He wouldn’t have dared do this before, but tonight you’ve given him more than enough courage to attempt this.

Astarion steels himself, and then puts his own arms around you. His undead heart thunders in his chest, fear consuming his mind. What if you pull away? What if you hate his cold touch? What if —

You lean into his embrace, silencing all his fears and nuzzle into his chest. He lets out a breath he never realised he was holding and buries his face into your shoulder, feeling tears prick at the corners of his eyes. Your embrace is vastly different from the previous embraces he’s had, all you want out of it is a display of love and care, you don’t want his body, you don’t want what he can offer, you don’t want anything in return.

As he continues to hold onto you, never wanting to let go, he lets a hand wander up your back, finding a better position to pull you closer and you hum in response, happily burrowing deeper into his arms.

“I like this, you know,” he whispers. “Whatever it is that we have, I don’t want it to end.”

“I feel the same way,” you whisper back, breathing in his scent. “Let’s stay here like this, the others can survive on their own for a little while longer.”

“I’m sure they can, my love.”

Hugging has definitely made its way to the top of his list of favourite things to do with you, Astarion thinks, listening to your happy hums as you soak in his embrace. He should do this more often.

[reverieblondie]

Desperate for HCs for the men with a "crybaby" SO (in the nsfw sense)

Okay this prompt turned out to be way harder than I thought it would be, so I tried my best! Thank you so much to @savriea for your help with the Gale part! What you wrote for him was the best and I am so grateful for your help! I hope you enjoy!

Rolan, Raphael, Halsin, Astarion, Wyll, and Gale!

Rolan

Rolan isn't quick to warm up to strangers, so of course, he kept his distance, but something about you did make him curious. Strong, heroic, pretty, and stoic compared to the others in your group. For the first time in a long time, was Rolan taking an interest in someone? Of course, he didn't want to make it obvious, but he found that when you were in the grove, his eyes were on you, trying to learn about you from afar. However, on the inside, it was gnawing at him to get to know you better and talk to you. It was the day of the grove party, and even though you were the night's hero, you still insisted on helping carry supplies for the party. As Rolan was in the storage shed, he was trying to find food that would be decently tolerable when he heard a loud crash. Quickly, Rolan turns the corner to see what had happened when he locked eyes with you holding a crate with no bottom, and bottles of fine wine crashed and staining the ground. Rolan goes to say something to you when he finally notices your face, red and streaming with tears. Looking back at his shocked face, all you could do was tremble out that you were sorry. Shocked was an understatement; he thought you were the tough badass, but you are crying over a simple mistake. You felt like a complete failure; you ruined the good wine, and now we're expecting a verbal thrashing from Rolan, who, based on what you observed, was not afraid to speak his mind. Then, he starts to laugh… Rolan couldn't help it, and it made you tear up more. With a snap of his fingers and a mutter of a spell, Rolan cleans up the mess you had made. Rolan gently touches your shoulder, "You shouldn't cry, and I don't mean to laugh. I'm just…surprised by you. I thought you were emotionless, but you're actually secretly a crybaby. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me." Then he flashed you his sharp-toothed smile, and you couldn't help but smile back. You didn't realize he had such a pretty smile. Later at the party, as people grimaced while they drank the cheap wine, Rolan and you shared a look and a smile as he pressed a finger to his lips. 

It happened again; a simple mistake had you in tears behind the inn, away from prying eyes. When Rolan sees you, he is quick to kneel by your side. According to you, there was a blunder at camp, and you managed to burn a hole in Lae'zel's tent; they would be returning soon, and she is not one you want to make angry. As you explain your story, you feel yourself getting worked up again; your chest starts to feel tight, the lump in your throat returning, and fresh tears threatening to spill; but before you can, you feel a comfortable warmth wrapping around your leg. Then, a calm hand on your shoulder; you're unsure why, but you feel more at ease already. "If you like, I can help you fix the tent; you won't believe how many times I've had to mend burned clothes. There is a reason why Lia isn't allowed to cook anymore." you two share a quick laugh, and you find yourself leaning into him. "Thank you for offering to help me…" Rolan laughs, "Considering everything you have done for me, it's the least I can do. "You two stay there for a while longer, neither of you ready to leave the comfort of this moment. You hope that if you both make it to the city, you two can continue to help each other, even in small ways.  

The more time you spend with Rolan, the more you learn about him. Not only is he intelligent and a bit cocky, but he's also a bit of a tease. Of course, this fact about him didn't appear until you two started dating. You had been helping him in the shop, and for some reason, it must have just been the god's cruel joke to have everything that could go wrong at work happen to you today. Trying to avoid crying on the floor, you hid away in the storage room in the back. Rolan, busy with demanding customers all day, was ready to slip away for a break; as he goes into the dark storage room, he runs into you. Thanks to his dark vision, he sees you all ready and on the verge of tears. Rolan grabs you close and asks what he can do for you; imagine his surprise when you tell him you want a kiss. Of course, he agrees eagerly, though he did not expect your kiss to be so hungry and your hands to cling so desperately. You feel Rolan smile through the kiss, causing you to break away and look into his glowing eyes. Though he is a faceless shadow to you, he can perfectly make out your flushed cheeks and tightening thighs. Rolan grabs one of your hands and drags it down his body as he whispers in your ear, "Want me to help you, Tav…Make you feel good…" Your hand touches his hard length, and it takes everything in you not to whine out your yes. Rolan licks your neck, making you moan as you both eagerly start to undo your bottoms. "Poor thing is messing up all day… all because your feeling so fucking needy… don't deny it, I can smell on you." The best thing about Rolan is that he always follows through when he teases. 

He's completely overwhelming, and you just can't get enough…His smell, warmth, his breath cascading over your sweating skin, his hand holding your hips so tightly you feel his nails digging into your skin. All this you can handle, but when his rich voice coos in your ear… that sets your nerves on fire. You feel Rolans forked tongue slide against your ear as he shoves you down on his cock deeper, The full feeling making your body tremble. "You're taking me so well. I'm proud of you…" Rolan purs in your ear that addictive praise that always makes your stomach flip. It was only a matter of time before he found out about your kink, but you didn't expect him to abuse it as much as he does. Rolan arches your hips up, pushing his length to hit your G stop, nonstop ramming into it, making you clench on him with a moan of his name. Rolan rubs his hand on your ass before squeezing to cause more moans to fall from your kiss-bitten lips. Rolan relishes in the noise, rolling his hips deeper, watching your blissed-out face with a lazy smirk, "Those are such pretty sounds. Keep them up for me." his voice is a mixture of sweet and mocking. You can't help how the intensity always makes your eyes tear up in the pleasure of all he's giving you; it's just too fucking good… 

Raphael

You are an adorable sight that Raphael can not help but lick his lips at. You have been a delight since the first moment he saw you. Your body trembling from his true form, hopefully look in your wide eyes as you take in his words, then the delish tears that fell when you took his deal to give him the crown. So innocent and eager to please all you meet, the best part? That sweet innocence, any bickering, teasing, bullying, and your face was welling up in hiccuping tears. It takes everything for him to not break his regale physode and lick up your tears as they fall. Raphael can't, not yet, at least. He needs to have your trust, and then once he is sure he has you where he wants you, he will be sure to take what he wants. You, on the other hand, can't help but fall for his charm. He's a devil, sure, and maybe you're just hopeful and naive, but something about him makes you trust him… You have seen his house…heard the tortured souls, and shed tears from what you witnessed, but when his hot breath caresses your skin as he thanks you for his crown, you're flooded with things you have never felt stir in you before. Tears can't help cascade from your eyes as you flush from the welling of tears… Raphael's golden eyes take in the delicious sight. He feels something pring in his chest as your trembling hand softly touches his face. "will…I ever see you again…" your voice shakes. That feeling of devouring you changes to one of protection. Raphael wraps his arms around you, letting you cry into his tunic as a smile stretches to his lips. Innocent little mouse… you're his now, forever.

You're crying again…why the hell are you crying again…you had shown up here sad and down-headed, muttering something about you and your companions getting into an argument or something. At the time, you insisted you just need time to calm down, but now, as he is trying to review contracts, all that he can focus on is your cries ringing in his ears.  However, Raphael is shaken up by something…he thought that he would be here growing annoyed with you, but he has just grown concerned. Instead of wanting to stop your cries because he doesn't want to hear you sad…he can't stand it. Before he knows it, he is standing up and marching over to your slumped, sniffling form. As you open your mouth to apologize, you're being silenced by a tight embrace and kisses to your temple, "I, you're crying… I'm sorry," Raphael rubs his hand softly on your back, slowly settling you…" Tell me what happened; let me help you." Raphael, usually selfish and arrogant…until it comes to you…maybe it's just a phase of something different that will blow over, or perhaps it's love…

You swear you have never been so embarrassed, but you missed Raphael and couldn't help yourself anymore….Tears threaten to fall, and the tightening in your stomach gets tighter and tighter. You move your hand faster, but then a disapproving tsk makes you pause, "Slowly…move your hand slowly, mouse…" You flick your eyes over to Raphael, where he sits watching you with a smirk, "I want you to build it slowly…till you can hardly bear it.." with a trembling sigh, you slow your hand, the feeling in your stomach feeling like it burns as your mind clouds. Raphael had caught you touching yourself while you waited for him to get back from a meeting. Instead of taking over for you or letting you finish, he pulled up a chair, and instead of instructing you, he told you it would feel so good…and it does…Raphael taunting and teasing controlling everything you do to yourself. It feels like you have been edging yourself for hours, your hot tears slipping down your face, and he was relishing in it, at his innocent mouse being so naughty… Raphael leans back, watching your quivering sex, licking his lips. "Does it hurt mouse?" You can hardly contain your quivering sob, "Y-yes…" his eyes clouded as he licks his lips, "What do you want…" you hesitate to answer, being too shy to say, it is so embarrassing… "Mouse?" His stern voice shoots a shiver through you, "To cum…" "Oh, that's very naughty…do it, make a mess on my sheets…let it wash over you…let the ecstasy take over." You start to move faster, moaning louder, the feeling reaching a mind-numbing peak. A blissful tear falls as you get closer and closer. A finger wipes away the tear, and you look up at him as he stands next to you now, a cocky smile still on his handsome face, "I wanted a closer view…"  

"Raph-Raphael-" a careful hush eases your hiccuping. Raphael brings his large hand to rub up and down your waist as the other digs into your hip, making you let out a whiny gasp. Raphael's hand comes up to tweak your nipple, making your body jump and a sharp cry fall from your swollen lips. His hands are mind-numbingly hot as they overwhelm you. "So sensitive mouse… you have only taken the tip." Raphael sinks his cock in deeper, your entrance stretched taught from his devil-form cock, your insides trying so desperately to accommodate to his textured girth, hot and throbbing as it drags across your insides. "It's too much!" another moan rips through you as he bullies in deeper, sinking in with more force than slowing up for you to accommodate and catch your breath. You can't help the tears that start to fall from your burning cheeks. "Shh… you're doing so well for me, mouse, crying so beautifully…" Raphael leans down, dragging the tip of his hot tongue over your tear-soaked cheek, then a sweet, chaste kiss to still your trembling begs. Right as you start to adjust, he pushes in roughly again, the pain swirling with pleasure as he overwhelms you. "You're so close to taking it all, my pet…are you ready?" He chuckles. "Might hurt for a moment, but then it will be pure bliss…" His sultry words are a sweet promise. You look at his beautiful face, which is slightly shining from sweat, the fires making him look like he glows. "Yes…" Raphael smiles and cups your cheek…it feels so tender…Then he snaps his hips, hitting that spot within you that rips out a scream…" Oh mouse, your cries are delicious." his pace quickens, "Give me more…" 

Halsin

It's incredible the kinds of people you will encounter in a lifetime, especially 350 years of life, but none of them have stirred anything in him like you have. Halsin doesn't know if he wants to hold you close and smother you in kisses or take you over his knee and give you a firm spanking. You're a brat, and the cherry on top is a crybaby, too, one that pouts and huffs with irritated tears when you don't get your way. Most couldn't handle someone like that, but Halsin isn't like most. Typically, Halsin is one to bow at a person's whims, but he likes to challenge you and work you up to a tissy. You're willing to go round and round with him, sometimes going against him to just get a reaction from the patient druid. Halain knows your game and is unwilling to give in to you so easily. Finally, after you're in irritated tears and groaning, you nest your head into his chest as he gently rubs his hand along your back. "Halsin, I thought you liked me…" you say through sniffles, "I completely adore you…but you lost the bet, and I can't just let you go back on your word." You pout at him with a huff, tears pooling in your eyes. "You're just going to let Astarion take my favorite ring." Halsin chuckles and pinches your cheek. "You lost the bet, and fair is fair, my brat, now stop pouting…or else…" he teases, and you bite your lip, looking up at him with mischief…" is that so…" such a brat.  

Sure, considering how much your always throwing fits, you would think that Halsin would be desensitized to your crap, but without waiting every time you're upset, there he is right next to your crying side, letting you cry it all out. It's best to not bottle up your emotions. He is always so charitable and calm, and you… you're a crybaby brat… you know deep down he deserves better than you, but you're too selfish to let him go. It was another one of those days where you let your emotions get out of hand, and instead of being an adult and dealing with it, you're lurking in your tent. Halsin comes in and sees you facing the corner; he knows not to lecture you. You hear him sigh and rummage around; before you know it, he's sitting next to your crying form with his wood carving stuff laid out, ready to be at your side till you're ready. Halsin pats his large hand on your head and places a quick kiss. He whispers something in elvish you now know means, 'I will wait for you.' He's just too perfect… its not an hour later you two are wrapped up in a tight embrace as you give him a thousand sorrys with a thousand kisses.  

It's torture, complete and utter torture when he does this to you. Halsin has fooled everyone except for you… and that's exactly why he does this to you… Adjusting yourself, you can't help but shudder at the feeling, your mind sparks, and all you can muster is a whimper. Halsin chuckles as you squeeze his shoulder, your face a contortion of pleasure and desperation…His large hand pats your back as the other keeps busy with the letter he has been writing for what feels like hours now. "Try not to stir my heart…it only makes it worse…" his husky voice makes you dig your nails into his muscle, "Hal-H-Ah-Halsin, please!" your whining makes his cock throb within you…the sensation makes you move up and down impatiently, wanting to feel the friction against your walls. You have been cock warming Halsin, it was the only way he could convince you to let him finish his work, but you know deep down he just likes to make you whine. That bratty crybaby nature, he loves to fuck out of you to submission, only for you to keep acting up for him to do it more. Right as your body is feeling some relief from your grinding on him, Halsin brings his hands to still you; the tears can't help but start to pour from your frustration. "Damnit Halsin! Why?!" Halsin places a finger on your quivering lip to silence you, "Don't be so quick to anger…I promise once I'm done, I will reward your patience…" As he says, he rolls his hips, making you throw your head back at the feeling of his mass so deep, "Now quit being a brat…"  

You had been acting up all day, and despite his warnings, you just wouldn't stop with your attitude…well, now you're in for it. The first chance he got, he was dragging you away from camp and bending you over, your hands braced on the tree in front of you, and a wide smile on your face…Halsins hands roam over your ass, teasing you further, "I told you to stop being a brat…You ready?" With an excited yes, you're being spanked by a powerful hand. It stings as he punishes your ass over and over again; your hands tighten against the bark as that pain mixes into pleasure. For someone trying to teach you not to be a brat, he sure does reward you for it. After the nth time, Halsin hears a shuddering gasp, giving him pause. Halsin is quick to gently turn you around and is horrified to see your face red with tears cascading down your cheeks. Halsin is a slew of apologies as he holds you close. You hold him closely, then using surprise to your advantage, push him down to the forest floor. Halsin looks at you in surprise as you straddle yourself over his strained cock, "Is that all you got, druid? I was expecting…more." oh, now you're really in for it. In a few more moments, you cry out to every deity you know as Halsin as you ride his cock at a bruising pace. When will he learn you are a glutton for punishment? 

Astarion

Astarion is not a man known for his patience, especially when it comes to crybabies. In Astarions' opinion, he is the only one who gets to whine and cry about anything. It's not that he would actually be sad; he's mainly just irritated. What was the point of wasting tears on things someone can't control? Then you joined their merry band, and he started to figure it out. You, the dazzling hero of the day who would do anything to help, hells Astarion, were sure you would give the armor on your back if you thought it would help someone. How irritating… You have always been a compassionate soul, and when you would see anyone in need or when others cried, you found that you felt it deeply, and then the tears would fall. Never bumbling or hiccuping, just tears that would glisten from your eyes to streak your cheeks. Astarion remembers when he first saw this from you; at the grove, as the refugees lamented their troubles to you, he saw that you started to cry from their pain. Part of him wanted to roll his eyes at you, but then you swore to help them with an unbreakable resolve in your eyes, and something in him stirred. Your tears became a regular thing on your adventure together, and though he would never say it out loud, he found something beautiful about it. As you two grew closer and he told you about his past, he saw those shimmering tears again, Astarion hadn't shed a tear, but it was like you felt his pain…someone saw his hurt and wanted to cry for him. Astarion couldn't help himself, his cold hand whipping gently at your tear-stained cheeks, "I wish I could take away that pain…" Your voice quivered, and then his lips kissed you sweetly. Just being there and trying to understand him helped ease his pain. 

Today, you had seemed quieter than usual, and Astarion couldn't help but take notice; he found that lately, he started to take notice of you more and more. Your routines, your attitude. It was late, and everyone else had turned in for the night. You stayed up watching the dancing fire. Clearing his throat to get your attention, he finally saw those glittering streams running down your cheeks. Shit… Astarion, not exactly the best at consoling people, did the only thing he could think of, "Would you care for a walk?" with a slight nod, you and Astarion took a walk through the quiet wood. The crisp air and the sounds of the whispering animals were soothing. Then there was Astarion just silently walking beside you. Though he didn't say it, you knew that he would listen to you should you decide to speak…but talking about it wasn't what you needed. All you needed was his calm presence next to you, there just in case. When you two finally return to camp before Astarion can slip back to his tent after your silent walk, you grab his hand suddenly; he looks at you confused before you smile and thank him. Him just being close always makes you feel better.  

It's no surprise that though you might be more sensitive than most, Astarion never passes on the chance to tease and taunt you. You know, this is just how Astarion shows his affection for people. Sure, it's a little unorthodox, but that's Astarion, and you can't bring yourself to mind it. Today, he was taunting you and your bleeding heart. You yet again find yourself helping another helpless soul. So, while you are packing up his things to join you, "I swear you will just say yes to anything a person asks of you now." Astarion says with a smirk. "Well, Astarion, have you ever thought I might like getting myself in trouble." Astarion looks at you confused, "You? Enjoying trouble?" it was just too easy…you walked over, placing a hand softly on his chest, "I do enjoy being around you…and you're definitely trouble. In more ways than one…" Astarion looks at you confused before he smiles, "Are you trying to act like me right now?" you smile and pat his chest, "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Thought I should tease you more, Wada think?" Astarion pinches your nose, "I think you need practice, but I'm more than willing to give you some tips."  

Could it always be this soft…this gentle… your lips meet his in a slow, controlled kiss. Your warm hands cupped his face, telling him you're here, not leaving, that you care. Your tongue is slow and timid as it asks for his lips to part. Astarion almost wants to laugh at the timidness of it; here he is naked with you, rutting slowly in between your legs, and you're scared that your tongue in his mouth will be too much. Astarion loves that about you; you're so caring and soft, even to someone like him. Astarion sinks in deeper, and you let out a groan from the stretch, your body covered in a light sheen of sweat, your body covered in a light sheen of sweat that Astarion just can't stop kissing. Your hands carefully holding onto him tighter, but nothing to mark him…he's been marked enough for a lifetime. Softly, you coo his name breathlessly, and he never loved the sound of his own name so much; you're just… everything to him. Astarion brings his lips to your ear, gently easing you till he can't help himself anymore, "I-I love you." he feels you stop moving, and for a second, he thinks he might have been wrong, but before the doubt can manifest in him, he hears a sniffle. Leaning back, he sees your eyes shining in tears and a wide smile; you look beautiful…" A-astarion, I love you too. He leans to kiss away your tears, so this is true intimacy. 

Wyll

Sometimes, you seem unreal; you're the kind to take on a whole goblin camp and fight for justice, but the simple sight of a meowing kitten or an old couple holding hands and sharing a tender moment will have you blubbering in tears. You're a complete sweetheart and a bit of a crybaby, but Wyll can't help but find it endearing. You're like a breath of fresh air after being on the road for so long. On the road, people act so tough and hard, never giving away any emotion, but not you; you're so honest about how you're feeling, willing to shed tears at anything that pulls at your heartstrings and that pulls at his. Cute and sad things were not the only things to make you cry. Wyll found that any sweet romantic gesture would make your eyes well up in happy tears. First, Wyll started out by giving you a flower; it was a casual gesture of affection for your relationship getting stronger, but the way you started to shed tears, it was like you received bad news. Through your sobs and hiccuping Wyll asked if you didn't like flowers, his consideration of your feelings made you cry more and fling yourself into his arms. "I love flowers; it's just so sweet of you to offer me one." You hug him tighter, feeling his heartbeat racing in his chest. "Thank you, Wyll. For being so sweet to me." Wyll wraps his arms around you tighter, already planning his next sweet gestures. Asking you to dance, making you a meal, working up to sharing a kiss… and one day bringing you home a kitten.  

Most people would find this annoying, but Wyll can't help himself. Your kindness and soft heart know no bounds, and Wyll feels that by the day, he is falling more and more enamored with you. You smile through your tears as you watch the celebration; everyone seems so happy and relaxed that they can finally continue their journey. Lost in the rejoining of the party, you fail to see Wyll come to your side; how he learned to be so quiet to sneak up on you, you will never know. Wyll gently brushes his finger to wipe away your tears. This instantly makes you apologize for crying again when it is not justified, but Wyll just wraps an arm around you, letting you lean into his surprisingly comfortable body; you would think for his physic, he would be uncomfortable to lay against, but… he's so warm, and comfortable… "Don't ever apologize about who you are." you let out a laugh, "so you don't mind being around a crybaby?" Wyll just shakes his head, "No, I don't mind drying your tears; it's nice being around someone so in tune with their emotions." Wyll squeezes you tighter, "Maybe if I'm around you, it will show me how to be more honest with mine." The rest of the night was spent with you two sharing small talk, curling further into each other's embrace.   

Wyll tries his best not to tease you. He is a gentleman, but sometimes he just can't help himself from a little playfulness, and yes, you will admit that it makes you pout (but you love this side of him). Wyll knows to be careful not to push you too hard because of your soft nature, so he got creative on how to get you to adorably pout. As you're sitting by the river trying to scrub the blood out of your clothes from today's battle, your mind wanders to Wyll and how he hasn't flirted with you today (how dare he!). Quietly, Wyll makes his way to you; he decides to play, which he thinks is a funny trick. He taps on your left shoulder as he gets close before quickly darting to the right. It never fails that you look to the tapped shoulder to then audibly groan his name, trying to hit him. Today, though, you take the chance to splash water on him, causing the start of an impromptu fight. Of course, Wyll is winning by having you laugh to the point of tears as he avoids your hits. Then you both pause… he looks down at your face, smiling gently as he wipes away a tear from your cheek. Wyll leans in, and you close your eyes, ready for this to finally happen…" Tsk, could you two resist procreating in the middle of camp. Disgusting…” You and Wyll quickly separate with a sigh… Lae'zel strikes again, but she's not wrong; maybe you can ask him to come to your tent tonight…

The tears couldn't help but flow out of you. Everything is so sensitive. Everything feels like, at any moment, you could burst into flames or burst into more tears. Your only saving grace is the soft kisses Wyll leaves on your body. "Just a little more; hang on a little longer, my love." His words drive you to hold on through the overstimulation about to reach your third mind-melting orgasm. Wyll is constantly pushing your body to its limits. You two had waited to be intimate, and Wyll assured you it would be well worth the wait. Of course, he was right about it. Now every night since Wyll has fucked you to incoherent whimpering and blissed-out tears as his length drives deeper in you, making that tight coil in your stomach snap for the fourth time now. His stamina is unrelenting as you coat him in your arousal. The crying of his name from your swollen lips drives him for one more, "One more, one last one, for me, baby…"

Gale

(This first bullet point was written by the amazing @savriea they are truly amazing and this snippet inspired me so much! huge thank you to them!)

Gale was captivated by your bravery at the grove. You stood tall against the druids, your determination making a difference for the tiefling child. It was a rare sight to see someone so unyielding yet so compassionate, and it had left a profound impression on him. He decided that he wanted to share a piece of his world with you, so that night he set up a small area away from camp and invited you over. He watched you intently, admiration in his eyes as you prepared to learn the basics of magic. Your initial attempts were clumsy, your fingers fumbling over the components, and your words stumbling over the syllables. Gale instructed you patiently, demonstrating the precise motions and enunciating each word clearly. But despite his guidance, the spell fizzled out for the fifth time, leaving a faint shimmer in the air before dissipating entirely. Frustration welled up inside you, the weight of repeated failure pressing down on your shoulders. The dam finally burst, tears spilling from your eyes as sobs wracked your body. Gale's eyes widened in panic, his usual composed demeanor faltering as he scrambled to salvage the moment. "No, no, no... hey, it's okay," he murmured, quickly moving to your side. His hands gently grasped yours from behind, his comforting warmth seeping into your back as he pressed his cheek against yours. "We'll do it together." With Gale guiding you, your hands moved through the motions again. He spoke the incantation softly in your ear, his voice a soothing melody that calmed your racing heart. You repeated the words, feeling the magic flow through you, unable to hold back a smile. The weave opened up to you, and for the first time, you felt its power caressing your skin. You laughed, a wet sound through your tears, your cheeks streaked and eyes glassy. Gale smiled, a mix of relief and pride shining in his eyes. "See? You did it," he said softly, his voice filled with admiration as he wiped your tears with his hand.

You felt ridiculous... you had decided to buy this outfit as a sexy surprise for Gale, but now your nerves are getting the better of you. Right as your about to change scraping your idea entirely Gale is walking through your tent, right on time as usually. Gales eyes widen not only from seeing your beautiful body on display but he also is feeling concern seeing your eyes starting to well up. Gale is quick to come to your side and hold your tightly, his large hands rubbing slowly up and down your back gently. Waiting till your calm Gale finally decides to ask you what's wrong. you explain how you wanted to wear something sexier for him and you started to second guess yourself, Gale can't help but smile. "You look completely beautiful not matter what my love, though I can't say I am not flattered..." Gales hands start to wonder making you laugh as he buries his nose in your hair taking in your sent that only spurs him on more... "Why don't we give you an actual reason to cry?" Of course you couldn't deny him. Gale knows exactly how you like it, he has made studying how to get you off his top priority these days. Gales lips caress your hips as his hands squeeze gently against you ass, coxing you to wrap your legs around his head so he can start tasting you. His tongue licking long strokes playing with your most sensitive parts before he is wrapping his lips around is and sucking softly. Gale drinks in your cyprine as your hands grip onto his soft locks. This only fuels him to drive into you more as hot tears of pleasure fall from your eyes and you moan and roll your hip against his face, not at all minding the beard.

[yunsbunnie]

fwb!jay who always wears his glasses around you because he knows how much you love watching your own reflection through the metal frame.

pairing : fwb!jay x fem!reader | warnings : finger sucking, smut, groping, riding | wc : 946 | note : might be my favourite one so far? there’s just something about jay w pretty glasses…

jay seemed to always find himself in the same situation, not that he was ever complaining. there was just something so captivating about the way your body reacted to yourself- the way your pleasure was almost dependent on the way you looked through another person's gaze.

that may be the very reason why he always comes running to you instead of the other girls you’ve heard about. if there was one thing that you’ve learned since you started hooking up with jay all those months ago was that your self confidence was what got him off- you just happened to feel the same way.

his lip was between his teeth as you continually bounced against his cock, your cunt sucking him in over and over again. it felt like you were made for him, his cock being the perfect size to hit all the right spots. 

jay pulled his hands away from you, arms bending at his elbows as he used one finger to push up his glasses. a smallc but inevitable, smirk caught on his lips as he watched your eyes follow the movement, noting the way your hands tensed by your side.

it wasn’t that Jay didn’t need his glasses, his eyesight actually being below average without them. But he tended to avoid wearing them, his irritation towards the lense stronger than his desire to actually see.

but when he was with you, they never seemed to leave his face. jay knew how much you loved his glasses, compliments always spilling from your lips as soon as you walked through the door. 

jay also happened to know the main reason behind your obsession. 

he noticed it after the first few times you made him keep them on, the way your eyes would remain glued to the metal frame. it was different than what he was used to, people always tending to be unable to look away from his glistening chest. 

but with you it was different, a difference that started jay's obsession with you.

he’d watch as you stared at yourself in the reflection, his dark eyes tracing your body as you moved sensually on top of him.

his head would fall back as he felt the way your hips sped up against him, the way your noises grew louder as your eyes locked onto the way you looked with your hands groping your own chest. 

“your glasses are really pretty.” You didn’t try hiding your ogling, your teeth gnawing on your body lip as your mind spiraled down a needy path of lust. you were unable to look away from your body, your curves highlighted by the bad lighting coming from jay’s desk.

you didn’t care too much about the way he looked, after all- he was nothing more than your accessory. he was there to make you look better, to feel better. 

“they’d be much prettier on you.” jay's voice came out barely above a whisper, the glasses sliding off his face as he inched his hands closer to you.

he gently took a hold of your chin, his other hand pushing his glasses onto your face. his hands moved to push your hair back as soon as they sat secure on the bridge of your nose. 

“i was right,” He leaned forward, his nose brushing yours as his thumbs smoothed down your hair, “so. fucking. beautiful.” his lips pressed kisses along your knuckles between every word.

his gaze moved from your confused one up to the spot yours was always drawn on. his reflection wasn’t as clear to his own eyes, his eyesight blurry with random rays of light due to his even worse astigmatism. 

but he now knew exactly why you loved it so much. he could see his entire body through the metal, his tensed stomach producing prominent shadows in a pleasant way. 

his eyes flickered to your darkening eyes once before he continued his kisses along your knuckles, the only difference was that his eyes were now attached to the way his lips looked whilst pressing against you. 

the smacks in his ear from the wet kisses made it all more real, he couldn’t stop. he then moved on to your fingertips, a delicate peck pressed against each one. 

he then did something that he’d only ever seen you do, he took your finger in his mouth. your jaw fell open at the unexpected action, your breath caught in your throat as his tongue swirled around your index finger. 

having been too focused on yourself you failed to notice the way he looked whilst getting pleasured, he truly was one of the most alluring people you’ve come across. 

you weren’t sure if the rapid beating of your heart was because of your sudden revelation- or because of the way he was making your core heat up. 

a wet sound, one that sounded eerily similar to the sound you make while sucking his cock, left his lips as he pulled back. the sound left a tingling feeling in his chest as he felt himself getting harder than before, his eyes meeting his own reflection once more before he pulled his glasses back on.

“will you let me make you feel good?” you didn’t need more than s glance at his rosy cheeks before you nodded your head, your back hitting the bed as you spread your legs for him.

even with him pushing your knees over his shoulder you still couldn’t shake the vision of him out of your head. and for the first time ever, you watched him instead of yourself- your finger pressed between your own lips as you mocked the motions his tongue made against you.  

[iamgonnagetyouback]

Poly marauders where it’s like there teen daughter gets into a fight and like smokes and stuff and like conversations and text trying to figure out what’s going on and telling each other what’s happening and like her yelling at them and finding out she’s been hanging around the wrong kind of people and she’s been stealing and just like good angst but then she says sorry walks away and slowly stops but like still ofc and teen girl 💕💕

𝟷.𝟹𝚔 || 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Your teen daughter was hanging out with wrong kind of people, causing all of you to confront her.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: poly!marauders x mom!Reader

"She's stealing, James. STEALING." Sirius’s voice came through the phone, low and angry. You could hear it even though James had stepped into the kitchen to take the call. Your heart clenched, dread coiling tightly in your chest.

You glanced at Remus, who was sitting on the couch, his brow furrowed as he typed furiously into his phone, likely messaging Peter. It had been a few tense days now. First, your daughter had gotten into a fight at school. Then came the smoking. And now…you were learning about the stealing.

James walked back into the living room, running a hand through his hair. His usually calm demeanor was shattered, his hazel eyes full of worry. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Sirius’s voice on speakerphone, growling, “This is bloody ridiculous. Who’s she been hanging out with? How did we not know?”

You winced. “She’s not a bad kid,” you whispered, more to yourself than anyone else. “We must’ve missed something, right? Maybe if I had—”

“Don’t,” Remus cut in gently, finally looking up from his phone. His eyes softened as he reached for your hand. “You didn’t do anything wrong, love.”

But the guilt gnawed at you anyway. You were her mother. You were supposed to protect her, guide her, and yet here you all were, blindsided by her sudden spiral.

The front door slammed, jolting you out of your thoughts. There she was, your daughter, stomping into the room with an air of defiance.

“Sweetheart, we need to talk,” James started, his voice steady but filled with concern.

“No, we don’t,” she snapped. “I’m not a child. You don’t get to control my life!”

Sirius, who had hung up and now stormed in after her, looked livid. “You’re stealing now?” His voice was tight with fury, and you saw James reach out, placing a firm hand on his shoulder to stop him from escalating. “We didn’t raise you to act like this. What the hell is going on?”

She rolled her eyes. “Maybe if you actually paid attention to what I want, instead of what you want me to be, I wouldn’t have to sneak around!”

Remus took a deep breath, stepping in. “Who have you been hanging out with, darling?”

Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, you saw the scared girl beneath the rebellious facade. “It doesn’t matter,” she mumbled. “I’ve got my own life, alright? You guys don’t get it.”

Peter, who had just arrived, slipped in quietly, standing by the door. He had always been the quiet one in confrontations like these, but his eyes were filled with worry. “We do get it,” he said softly. “We’ve been your age. But hanging out with people who are getting you into fights, into trouble…it’s not the way.”

Her lip trembled, and for a second, it seemed like she was going to break. But then she just shook her head and stormed toward her room, slamming the door behind her.

The silence that followed was suffocating. You sat down hard on the couch, burying your face in your hands. “I failed her,” you choked out, your voice thick with tears. “I should’ve known. I should’ve seen it.”

Sirius’s anger faltered, and he knelt down in front of you. “Hey, no. None of this is your fault.”

James crouched beside you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “You’re a great mom,” he whispered into your hair. “She’s just…lost right now.”

You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks. “But what if we lose her, James? What if we're not enough?”

Remus was there in an instant, sitting beside you, pulling you close. “We won’t lose her,” he murmured. “We’ll figure it out together, okay? We’ve always got each other.”

Peter nodded from the side. “She’s tough, just like you. She’ll come around.”

Sirius, who had always been the most protective, clenched his fists, still simmering with frustration but trying his best to soften for your sake. “I just don’t want her getting hurt,” he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. “I don’t want her to turn into someone we don’t recognize.”

James kissed his temple, his voice gentle but firm. “She won’t. We’ll make sure of it.”

Over the next few days, things were tense, but slowly, you began to see changes. She came home earlier, didn’t pick as many fights. It wasn’t a complete transformation—far from it—but there were glimmers of hope. She even sat down with you once, just to watch TV. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

One evening, she came up to you while the boys were scattered around the house. “Mom?” she asked, her voice quiet.

You looked up, your heart in your throat. “Yes, sweetie?”

“I’m sorry.” Her eyes were filled with genuine remorse. “I…I messed up. I’m still mad, but I know I messed up.”

You pulled her into your arms, tears welling in your eyes again, but this time from relief. “I love you,” you whispered, kissing the top of her head. “No matter what, I love you.”

She nodded, hugging you tightly before stepping back. “I’m gonna try…to do better.”

It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.

hope this is what you were going for! also i wasn't sure if you wanted reader insert, so i twisted it up a bit

[sonamytrash]

Always Been Here

Warnings: some character spoilers if you havent read the manga, fluff, angst, smut, topics of grief and death, oral sex (F and M receiving), kitchen sex, vaginal sex, creampie, dirty talk, friends to lovers, aged up characters, mentions of Choso, reader x Yuta but reader has history with Choso. Gentle Dom!Yuta x reader.

What can I say? I want reader to have their cake and eat it. I love too many of the JJK men to pick just one, so here's a fic where you and Choso were together. Yuta's always pined for you, but has been a pillar of support as you cope with loss. Feelings develop into something more, lust overrides guilt.

"Can't sleep?" Yuta's voice startled you, his question cutting through the quiet of the night. You looked up from your teacup, the steam rising like a ghostly hand, reaching for the ceiling.

You nodded, your eyes still brimming with unshed tears. "Just thinking about... things," you murmured, not quite meeting his gaze. The kitchen was dimly lit, the only light coming from the moon peeking through the window, casting a pale glow on the countertops.

Yuta approached slowly, his footsteps silent on the wooden floor. He leaned against the counter, his arms folded across his chest. "Do you want to talk about it?" he offered gently.

Guilt gnawed at you as you considered how your thoughts had been drifting towards Yuta more and more often lately. The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the gentle touch of his hand on your shoulder when he offered comfort. It was wrong, wasn't it? To feel this way about someone else when Choso's memory was still so fresh? Even if some years had passed.

You took a deep breath, the scent of the chamomile tea filling your nostrils. "It's just... I miss him," you said finally, your voice cracking slightly. "Sometimes it feels like it was just yesterday, and other times it feels like a lifetime ago."

Yuta nodded, "I know," he said softly. "But it's okay to feel that way. Choso was a big part of your life, and he'll always be with you." he said, his voice low and understanding despite the jealousy he felt deep down. He had been there the day you lost Choso, had seen the pain etched into your features that had never quite faded.

He remembered the way you looked at each other, the silent conversations that seemed to pass between you and Choso. The way your eyes would light up when he walked into the room, the way he made you laugh.

Yuta had always been there, in the background, watching the two of you. He had been so young then, not quite understanding the depth of the feelings he harbored. But as he grew older, and as the years painted their strokes of wisdom on his heart, he realized he had been in love with you for as long as he could remember.

He had hoped, in his quiet, unassuming way, that one day you would look at him the way you looked at Choso. That the warmth of your smile would be reserved for him alone, that your laughter would echo through the halls of his soul. He knew it was selfish.

Yuta had been just a teenager when he first saw you, your beauty and grace captivating him instantly. You were a couple of years older, your eyes sparkling with a mischief that spoke of worlds he hadn't yet explored. And then Choso came along, a man who stole your heart despite the short time you knew him, and the bond between you was unmistakable. Yuta could only watch your love for another from the sidelines.

He often wondered if you had ever noticed his furtive glances, his quiet admiration. The way his heart skipped a beat every time you were in the room, how he longed to be the one to make you smile, to hold you when you were sad. But you had eyes for Choso, and the love you shared was something he knew he could never replicate. And as much as it hurt him, he had learned to accept it.

Now, standing in the kitchen with you, he felt the weight of the years, of the unspoken love and loss. "You know," he began, his voice tentative, "Choso was a great man. He cared for you more than anything. And I think... I think he'd want you to be happy."

You looked up at him, your eyes glistening with the reflection of the moonlight. "I know," you whispered.

Yuta nodded, his heart aching for you. He knew that the pain of losing someone never truly goes away, it just becomes a part of you, a shadow that lingers in the corner of your heart. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I'm here for you," he said, the words simple but filled with a depth of emotion that resonated in the quiet room.

"You should goto bed." He says softly. For a moment, you just stood there, sipping your tea and letting the warmth of his touch seep into your skin. It was comforting, like a blanket on a cold winter's night. Then, with a sigh, you set the cup down on the counter and met his gaze, your eyes searching his, ignoring his suggestion. "Yuta, do you ever wish things could have been different?"

He paused, his hand still on your shoulder, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the coolness of the night. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice even softer than before.

You took a deep breath, your heart racing. "I mean... us. Do you ever wish that you and I... that we could have been more than just friends?" The words hung in the air, delicate and fragile.

He took a step closer, his hand sliding down to gently cup your cheek. "I used to wish," he began, his voice thick with emotion, "that I could have been the one to make you happy from the start."

You felt a jolt of surprise, your heart fluttering like a trapped bird. "Yuta," you breathed, his name barely audible.

He stepped closer, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped the corner of your eye. "But recently I've wondered," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, "if maybe, just maybe, the universe had a different plan for us."

You searched his eyes, the blue pools reflecting the turmoil of his soul. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks—Yuta had been in love with you all along. It was in the way he had always been there, the way he had taken care of you, the way he had stepped up when Choso was gone. It was in the way he looked at you now, with a love so deep and profound that it took your breath away.

"What are you saying?" you managed to ask, your voice shaky.

Yuta took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm saying that maybe it's time for us to explore what could be," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "Choso is gone, and no one can ever replace him. But I'm here, I've always been here."

You felt a swirl of emotions, torn between the loyalty to Choso's memory and the newfound hope that maybe, just maybe, you could find happiness again. Yuta's touch was comforting, familiar, yet thrillingly different. He had been your rock, your confidant, your pillar of strength when you had felt like crumbling to the ground. And now, as his thumb traced the curve of your cheek, you felt something else, something that made your heart race and your stomach flutter.

He leaned in, closing the space between you, and for a moment, the world around you faded away. The only thing that existed was the two of you, the warmth of his hand, and the closeness of his body. You could feel his breath on your face, see the earnestness in his eyes.

Your breath hitched as he leaned in, his eyes never leaving yours. Then, as if pulled by an invisible string, your lips met his. It was soft, tentative at first, but as you felt the warmth of his mouth, the kiss grew deeper, more insistent.

Yuta's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as if he could absorb your very essence. His kiss was a promise, a gentle reminder that he had been waiting for you, that he would always be there to catch you when you fell. You melted into his embrace, your body responding to his touch in a way that was both new and strangely familiar.

The kiss grew more urgent as the seconds ticked by, the ache in your heart slowly morphing into a different kind of longing. You felt alive again, a spark igniting within you that had been buried under the weight of your grief. Your arms snaked around his neck, pulling him closer.

You tasted the sweetness of his lips, a flavour that was uniquely his, and it sent a shiver down your spine. His other hands found their way to your waist, his thumb tracing small circles that made you want to lean into him even more.

The intensity grew, the line between comfort and desire blurring with every passing moment. Your own hands roamed down to his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath his shirt, the heat of his skin.

Your breath grew ragged, your body responding instinctively to his touch as you felt the wetness inbetween your legs.

With a gentle yet firm pressure, he pinned you to the counter, his body pressing against yours, leaving no room for doubt. His kiss grew more demanding, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth as if he were trying to claim you as his own. You gasped, your hands clutching at his shirt, holding him to you as if you were afraid he might vanish like a mirage in the desert heat.

The countertop dug into your back, but you barely noticed, lost in the sensation of his hands roaming your body, reawakening feelings that had lain dormant for so long. His grip tightened on your hip, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin just above your waistband, sending a jolt of pleasure through your core. You arched into him, the warmth of his palm a brand against your skin.

Yuta groaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating through your chest and straight to your core. His hand slid up your top, cupping your breast, his thumb circling your nipple until it was a hard peak beneath his touch. You gasped, breaking the kiss to catch your breath, and he took the opportunity to whisper in your ear, his voice thick with need. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "Do you have any idea how much I've wanted this?"

You leaned into him, your voice a sultry whisper. "Tell me," you demanded, your eyes dark with desire. "Tell me all the dirty little things you've thought about doing to me."

Yuta's eyes smouldered as he took a step closer, his hand sliding down to palm your ass, pulling you against him. "I've imagined peeling off your clothes," he murmured, as your top is swiftly discarded leaving your breasts exposed to the cool air, his breath hot against your neck, "and exploring every inch of your body with my mouth."

You moaned, his words sending a wave of heat through you. "Tell me more," you breathed, your hand sliding down to grip his hardened cock through his pants.

"I've thought about fucking you," he said bluntly, his voice low and needy. "Bending you over this very counter and filling you up until you scream my name."

Your cheeks flushed, the words sending a delicious thrill through your body. You'd never heard Yuta talk like this before, and it was a stark contrast to the gentle, almost shy young man you knew. "And what else?" you prompted, your voice a seductive purr.

He leaned in, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "I've thought about you on your knees," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire, "your mouth around my cock."

You shivered, the thought of his hardness in your mouth making your pussy clench with anticipation. Your hand began to move rhythmically against him, feeling his cock throb in response.

Yuta's hand slid down to the hem of your shorts, his fingertips grazing the bare skin of your thigh before dipping under the fabric. You gasped as his fingers found you wet, slipping easily through your folds. His eyes locked onto yours, searching for permission. You nodded, your own hand moving to the button of his pants, your desire matching his.

He pulled back just enough to let you unbutton and unzip him, his cock springing free, thick and hard. You took it in your hand, feeling the heat of him. He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as you began to stroke him, your hand moving in slow, measured motions.

Yuta's hand was still between your legs, his fingers dancing over your clit before sliding down to slip inside you. You gasped, your hips jerking forward to meet his touch. His fingers moved in a way that was both familiar and new, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could feel your arousal coating his hand, making his movements slick and easy.

You stroked him in return, marveling at the feel of his velvety skin, the way his cock throbbed in your hand.

He kissed you again, deeper this time, as his fingers curled inside you, finding that spot that made you moan. The sound filled the room, echoing off the walls, mixing with the sound of your ragged breaths.

Yuta's thumb found your clit, pressing down in firm, slow circles that had you bucking against his hand. The sensation was almost too much to bear, the pleasure building like a crescendo in your core. You tightened your grip on his cock, stroking him faster, feeling him swell in your hand.

You could feel your orgasm approaching, the tension coiling in your stomach like a spring ready to snap. Yuta's eyes searched yours, reading the signs, and with a growl, he lifted you onto the counter, spreading your legs wide. His hand never left your pussy, his fingers pumping in and out of you with a steadfast rhythm that had you teetering on the edge.

He kissed you again, stifling your moans, his tongue mimicking the movements of his hand, and you could feel your climax building, a wave ready to crash. "I'm going to make you cum," he murmured against your lips, and you could only nod, your eyes half-lidded with desire.

Yuta's hand worked faster, his thumb pressing harder, and with a strangled cry, you shattered, your body convulsing around his hand. He didn't stop, though, his touch gentle yet firm, riding out the waves of your pleasure until you were limp and panting in his arms.

You looked up at him, your eyes hazy with lust and vulnerability. He leaned in, kissing you softly, a gentle reminder that this was just the beginning. He slid his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, savouring the taste of you.

With a groan, Yuta stepped back, his eyes never leaving yours as he tugged off his shirt, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest and abs. The moonlight cast shadows across his body, highlighting the strength and power he had honed over the years. You couldn't help but stare, your body still humming with the aftershocks of your climax.

But as he reached for you again, you placed a hand on his chest, halting him. "No," you murmured, your voice still thick with need. "Let me."

You slid off the counter and dropped to your knees before him. Yuta's eyes widened in surprise and arousal as you took his cock in your hand again, stroking it with a newfound confidence.

You leaned in, your hair cascading around your face like a veil, and took him into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around the head, tasting the saltiness of his precum. He groaned, his hands gripping the edge of the counter for support as you took him deeper, the muscles in your cheeks hollowing with the effort.

The room was filled with the sounds of your wet, hungry sucks and his muffled moans of pleasure. Yuta's eyes rolled back in his head, his body trembling with the sensation of your mouth around him. He had fantasized about this moment for so long, but the reality was so much more intense than anything he could have imagined.

Your hand stroked his shaft in time with your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip, teasing the slit before taking him deep again. His cock was hot and hard in your mouth, and you could feel his pulse through it.

Yuta's hands found their way into your hair, guiding you but not forcing. He was careful, respectful, even in his passion. You could feel the tension building in him, his breaths coming in harsh gasps. You knew he was close, and the thought of making him cum like this, of being the one to give him such pleasure, had your own arousal spiking again.

Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking in time with your mouth. You could feel him swell even more, his hips beginning to thrust slightly, matching the rhythm of your hand and mouth. You took him deeper, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and he let out a strangled groan.

Yuta's hands tightened in your hair, his eyes never leaving yours, watching the way your eyes watered slightly with the effort. His breath grew ragged, his abs tensing with every stroke of your tongue.

"You're going to make me cum." He groaned.

You hummed in response, the vibration of your voice sending a shiver down his spine. You felt empowered, in control of his pleasure, and it was intoxicating. You quickened your pace, your cheeks hollowing as you took him deeper, the muscles in your throat working to accommodate his size.

Yuta's hips jerked forward slightly, his control slipping as the pressure grew. "I'm going to... fuck," he stuttered, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to hold back. But you didn't relent, your mouth working him, eager to taste his load.

With a final, desperate groan, he let go, his cock pulsing in your mouth as he came, filling it with his warm, salty essence. You swallowed, the taste of him both foreign and intoxicating. He gripped the counter tightly, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm, his breaths coming in harsh pants.

You pulled back, licking hom clean before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, a satisfied smile playing on your lips.

Yuta's eyes meet yours with a look of pure amazement as he breathes your name, his voice shaky with aftershocks of pleasure.

You stood up, placing a gentle hand on his cheek, your own heart racing from the intensity of the moment. "Let's go to bed," you murmured, your voice a sultry whisper.

But Yuta was beyond the point of patience. "No," he said, his voice thick with need. "I can't wait that long." Before you could react, he lifted you with surprising strength, setting you back on the countertop with a gentle thud. You gasped, your hands bracing against the cold marble.

With a hunger that was palpable in the air, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down your legs. Your heart raced as the cool air kissed your wet pussy, making your clit throb with anticipation. He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours as he discarded your shorts on the floor, leaving you bare and exposed.

Yuta's gaze was intense, his desire for you written in every line of his body. He spread your legs wider, his eyes dropping to the juncture of your thighs. You could see his chest heaving, his muscles tight with the effort of holding back. "You're so wet," he murmured, his voice filled with awe.

Without another word, he lowered his head, his tongue darting out to trace the slit of your pussy. You gasped, your legs trembling, as he tasted you properly. His touch was gentle, exploratory, as if he was worshipping a deity he had longed for but never dared to approach. You felt your body respond, your clit swelling with need as he licked and kissed your folds.

Yuta's hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he feasted on you, his tongue delving deep, stroking your inner walls, before returning to your clit to flick and tease it mercilessly. You could feel the beginnings of another orgasm building, your breath coming in ragged gasps. It had been so long, the sensation was exquisite, his mouth on your most sensitive parts setting your nerves alight.

As his tongue danced against your clit, his fingers slid back inside you, filling you up, stretching you out. You moaned, the sound echoing through the kitchen, your body arching off the counter. He was relentless, his mouth working in tandem with his hand, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

The sensations grew more intense, each stroke of his tongue sending a bolt of pleasure through you. You could feel your orgasm building, a coil of heat in your lower belly, tightening with every flick of his tongue. "Yuta," you gasped, your voice a desperate plea.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with need. "Cum for me again, please" he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Let me hear you."

You nodded, unable to form words as the pressure grew. His tongue swirled around your clit, his fingers curling inside you, and you felt your body tense, poised on the edge of something incredible. The orgasm crashed over you, your pussy clenching around his fingers, your juices coating his mouth. He drank you in, groaning with pleasure as he felt you shudder beneath his touch.

Yuta pulled back once your orgasm ebbed away, his chin glistening with your arousal, his eyes never leaving yours. You watched as he stood, his cock once again fully erect, a testament to his insatiable desire for you.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he murmured, his voice low and guttural.

Your eyes widened as he spoke, the dirty words a stark contrast to his usually gentle demeanor. "Y-Yuta," you stuttered, your body still pulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

He stepped closer, his erection nudging against your thigh. "I want to be inside you," he said, his voice gruff with need. "I want to feel you around my cock."

Your cheeks flushed with desire, your body more than ready for what he offered. Yuta positioned himself between your legs, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance. He leaned in, his mouth capturing yours in a fierce kiss as he pushed inside you.

You gasped, the feeling of him filling you up, stretching you, was overwhelming. It had been so long since you felt this connection with someone, and the way he claimed you was both terrifying and exhilarating. His movements were slow and deliberate at first, giving you time to adjust to his size.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him deeper. He groaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating through your chest. His hands gripped your hips, his movements growing more urgent as he found his rhythm.

You could feel every inch of him, the way he filled you so completely, the way his cock slid in and out of you with a slickness that spoke of your shared desire. Your body responded, your pussy clenching around him, urging him on.

"Fuck me harder, don't hold back." you breathed into his ear, the words coming out as a desperate plea. Yuta almost whimpered as his grip tightened on your hips, his strokes becoming more forceful, more demanding. You met him thrust for thrust, your body moving in perfect sync with his, the rhythm of your fucking a symphony of need and want.

He growled, the sound animalistic and raw, as he drove into you, his hips slamming against your ass. "You're so tight," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "So wet for me."

You couldn't help the mewl that escaped your lips as he bottomed out, his cock hitting that spot deep inside you that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.

"Fuck, Yuta," you gasped, your voice breathless. "You feel so good."

"Yeah?" he groaned, his hips pistoning into you with a ferocity that made the countertop shake. "You like that? You take my cock so well, I always knew you would." He replies breathlessly.

You threw your head back, what a filthy young man, the pleasure of his thick cock filling you completely washing over you in waves. Your nails dug into his back, leaving little half-moons of pain that only served to heighten the sensations coursing through your body.

Yuta's breath was hot and heavy against your neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin there. Your breasts bounced with every thrust, your nipples tight and aching for attention. You reached up, cupping them in your hands, pinching and rolling them until the sensation became too much. "Yutaa," you moaned again, your voice strained with pleasure.

He pulled back, breaking the kiss, and took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking hard. You arched off the counter, the dual sensation of his teeth and tongue on your sensitive flesh sending bolts of pleasure straight to your core. His hand slipped down to your clit, his thumb rubbing it in circles as he continued to fuck you with a relentless rhythm.

The pressure grew again, your body tightening around him as you approached climax. You could feel his strokes becoming erratic as he chased his own release. "I'm going to cum," you panted, your voice barely recognizable.

Yuta's eyes met yours, a wild hunger in their depths. "Cum with me," he growled, his thumb pressing down on your clit with a firmness that made your toes curl.

The tension grew unbearable, the room spinning as your orgasm approached. Your pussy spasmed around his cock, your body desperate for release. And then it hit you, a wave of pleasure so intense it stole your breath. You screamed his name, your body shaking with the force of it, your pussy clenching down on him as you came hard.

Yuta watched you with hooded eyes, his own pleasure mirrored in the tightening of his jaw and the flex of his muscles. He felt your warmth spurt around his cock, your walls pulsing in a way that was almost painfully good.

With a final, powerful thrust, he gave in to his own climax, burying himself to the hilt and releasing his seed deep inside you. The warmth of his cum filled you, mixing with your own juices and making you feel complete in a way you hadn't in years.

He held you there, his cock still pulsing, his body shaking with the aftershocks of his orgasm. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on tight as the world swam back into focus.

Yuta leaned in, kissing you softly, the taste of your passion still lingering on his lips. "Are you okay?" he murmured, his voice filled with concern.

You nodded, a content smile playing on your lips. "More than okay," you whispered, your eyes still glazed with the intensity of the moment.

He pulled out of you slowly, the feeling of his cock leaving your body making you whimper. He set you down gently, his arms still around you, keeping you steady. You could feel his cum dripping down your thighs, a physical reminder of the passion you had just shared.

Yuta took a step back, his chest heaving with exertion. He reached for his shirt, using it to wipe the sweat from his brow. You watched him, feeling a strange mix of emotions. It had been years since you had felt this alive, this desired.

"We should go to bed," you murmured. He raises an eyebrow, "We?" He asks with a playful smile. You roll your eyes.

"Yes, 'we' as in us."

[hoshinasblade]

Got some cute ideas.

Hoshina Soshiro coming back to work saw the fem reader carrying a baby kitty and smiling at it and her smile is like it was from heaven so soft and gentle.

You can FREELY at any twist on it be my guest. 🤌🏻

lmao can we all agree that hoshina is a cat person but in my head this can mean two things - he is fond of cats, and he is a cat in human form iykwim.

hoshina does not consider himself a jealous man.

from an early age, he has learned the virtue of being contented of whatever he is given, and on scenarios when he cannot help but to be discontented with what the world has dealt him with, he has also mastered the art of being competitive enough to always come on top.

an ugly feeling started to gnaw at hoshina's insides when he saw you smile with a brightness he's never seen you worn even when he is around. maybe it's his instinct, but he cannot stop himself from already hating whoever is at other end of your smile.

you spotted hoshina by the corner of the street and though your first thought was ask him why he is frowning, the animal you are cradling in your arms started meowing. "look what i found!" carefully, you waved at hoshina who has started to walk towards you - his mouth is in a straight line, but you could not stop your excitement from spilling over. "he looks just like you, soshiro-kun!" you giggled.

on your left arm rests a kitten, its orange fur stained with so much grime it almost looks like a used feather duster. the animal gave out a high-pitched meow when you lightly touched its head, petting it. the kitten was such a small thing, he noticed, and the fact that its eyes are also half-closed does not escape him. "you think i look like a gremlin?" he asked you.

"sssh! he is gonna hear you!" you scolded hoshina in the lowest volume of your voice you could muster. "i already named him, by the way."

"i literally just saw you picked it up like, not even fifteen minutes ago," hoshina bantered. seeing it squirming against your chest, he attempted to touch the kitten, only to receive a soft hiss. hoshina gave you a betrayed look.

"you called hinata-chan a gremlin.” you laughed at your boyfriend’s offended expression. “you gotta be nice to our son, you know”, you added sheepishly. you lifted the kitten a bit and nuzzled your cheek against its fuzzy head. hinata-chan mewled, and hoshina’s frown deepened until he realised what you just said.

the topic of having children was something you have discussed with hoshina not long ago, and although both of you dream to have miniature versions of each other running around the house someday, you have also decided that neither of you are ready to be having kids at the present. a boy and a girl - that’s what you and hoshina are planning to have maybe five, ten years from now.

the kitten looks awfully like a baby by the way you are holding it, and hoshina melted. you could sense his hesitation, so with your free hand you grabbed hoshina's wrist and directed him to put his palm on the kitten's fur slowly. "poor thing's only a few weeks old, i think. we gotta take care of it, or it's not gonna survive," you told him. the kitten, still resting on your arm did not make a move, and gaining confidence, hoshina began to gently stroke and scratch its forehead.

"i thought hinata would be a nice name - something sunny, something warm," you explained. "it reminds me of you."

the kitten's eyes remained half-closed, but after a moment it opened its mouth and its small tongue lapped on hoshina's finger, purring.

touched, hoshina breathed a sigh of relief. "nice to meet you, hinata-chan. you're absolutely going to be one spoiled cat."

a/n: lmao this is so messy but i see the potential, hoshina would definitely have beef with a literal kitten over you.

[sweetlyvibe]

PAIRING : Osamu Miya x Fem!Reader,

GENRE : angst/comfort

WC : 1k

SUMMARY : After a huge fight with Atsumu about quitting volleyball, Osamu crashes at the your place, looking for advice. With your help, he sorts out his feelings and makes up with Atsumu, proving their bond is solid even if they’re on different paths.

CONTENT/WARNINGS : emotional struggles, intense arguments, sibling tensions, misunderstandings

The Miya twins had fought countless times before, but this one was different. You could tell by the way Osamu stumbled through your front door that evening, his shoulders tense and his face twisted in anger, a rare sight on the usually calm and collected twin. He didn’t need to say a word for you to understand. You could guess who the fight was with. It was always Atsumu.

He stood there, silent for a moment, as if trying to find his words, his breathing heavy. You gestured him inside without a second thought, the quiet tension filling the room as he dropped his bag by the door.

“I’m not playin’ anymore,” he finally muttered, more to himself than to you, the words barely above a whisper. “Volleyball, it’s not… for me.”

You nodded, waiting. You had learned to be patient with him.

“And he doesn’t get it.” Osamu’s voice cracked, the frustration spilling over as he ran a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. “We always fought, ya know? But never like this. Never like this.”

His voice trembled, and you felt a pang in your chest as you watched him try to hold it together. This wasn’t just another argument. This was a breaking point. You gently guided him to sit down, and he sank into the couch, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his head hanging low.

“He’s so angry. Like he doesn’t even wanna hear what I gotta say. It’s all just volleyball, volleyball, volleyball… like it’s the only thing that matters.” He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “I told him I’m done. I’m done with it.”

You sat beside him, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “It sounds like you’ve been thinking about this for a while.”

Osamu sighed, his body deflating as if the weight of it all was finally sinking in. “Yeah. I mean, I love playin’, but not like him. It’s different for me, and I think he feels like I’m betrayin’ him or somethin’. But I can’t keep doin’ it just to keep him happy.”

Your heart ached for him. Osamu had always been the more level-headed one, but right now, he was lost. “He’s your brother, Samu. He loves you. But you’re allowed to want different things.”

“I know that.” His voice was quieter now, his anger fading into something more fragile. “But I dunno how to make him see it. It’s like talkin’ to a brick wall. He thinks I’m givin’ up.”

You paused, choosing your words carefully. “Maybe… maybe you two need space. Time to cool off. He’s not thinking straight right now, and neither are you.”

He didn’t say anything, just stared at the floor, but you could tell your words were sinking in. You let the silence hang between you for a moment before speaking again.

“You can stay here as long as you need. We’ll figure it out, okay?”

Osamu glanced at you, his expression softening just a little. “Thanks… for always knowin’ what to say.”

Atsumu’s anger still simmered hours later as he replayed the fight in his head, the harsh words they’d thrown at each other cutting deeper than any previous argument. It was the first time Osamu had ever walked away like that, and the thought of it gnawed at him. Why couldn’t Samu see how much volleyball meant to him? How could he just quit like it was nothing?

It wasn’t until the next day, after spending the night alone in their apartment, that Atsumu began to feel the sharp edges of regret. He’d pushed too hard. The fight replayed in his mind, and he hated how it had ended. But pride and anger still clung to him, keeping him from making the first move to fix things.

You found Osamu later that night in your kitchen, sitting with a mug of tea in front of him, his head resting in his hands. His whole body seemed heavier than usual, weighed down by the argument. You sat beside him quietly, and after a few moments, he spoke.

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe we just need time.”

“I think you both need to talk when you’re calmer,” you said gently. “He’s probably still mad, but I know he’ll regret it too. You just need to give each other a chance to explain.”

Osamu didn’t respond immediately, but you could tell he was thinking about it. Slowly, he nodded, though there was still uncertainty in his eyes. “But what if he doesn’t get it? What if he’s still mad?”

You smiled softly. “He’s your brother, Osamu. He’ll always come around. You just need to find a way to make him understand that this isn’t about him. It’s about what’s right for you.”

It took a few more days, but eventually, Osamu texted Atsumu, suggesting they meet and talk. They both showed up at the court where they used to practice together, the air thick with unspoken tension.

Atsumu stood with his arms crossed, trying to look indifferent, but the moment Osamu spoke, his defenses crumbled.

“I’m not quittin’ volleyball ‘cause I hate it, ‘Tsumu. I’m quittin’ ‘cause I don’t love it the way you do. I wanna do somethin’ I’m passionate about. I don’t expect you to understand, but I need ya to respect it.”

Atsumu’s face softened, his anger dissolving into something else—hurt, maybe even understanding. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, glancing away before muttering, “You’re still my twin, no matter what. But I thought… I dunno, I thought we’d do this together.”

Osamu sighed. “We’re always gonna be brothers, ‘Tsumu. But I gotta do this for me.”

There was a pause, and then Atsumu nodded, his eyes finally meeting Osamu’s. “Alright. I get it.”

It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start. You didn’t need to be there to know that, thanks to the time apart—and your gentle advice—the Miya twins would be alright.

[reidsworld]

In the Arms of Eternity

Summary: After holding your dying body in his arms, Elijah realises what he has to do to protect you, even if it means breaking your heart in the process. Based on this request.

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Fem!Human!Reader

Category: Angst

Content Warnings: more hurt than comfort (sorry), happy ending, blood, cursing, arguing

Word Count: 3k

Mars speaks… Thank you so much for requesting this, I really hope you enjoy it!

Masterlist

The battle had ended, but its aftermath was a haunting echo in the stillness of the night. The forest, once alive with the sounds of struggle, was now eerily silent, the air heavy with the scent of blood and damp earth. Elijah Mikaelson stood amidst the carnage, his chest heaving as he surveyed the scene, his heart seizing as his gaze fell upon the figure lying motionless on the ground.

“Y/N!” The name tore from his throat, raw and desperate, as he rushed to her side, the world narrowing to the sight of her pale face and the dark red stain spreading across her torso. Her breaths were shallow, each one a struggle, as her life ebbed away with every passing second.

Panic, an emotion Elijah had long since learned to suppress, surged within him, threatening to overwhelm his centuries-honed composure. He dropped to his knees beside her, his hands trembling as they hovered over the wound, unsure where to begin. He could feel the warmth of her blood, see the life slipping away from the woman he loved, and it was more terrifying than any foe he had ever faced.

“Y/N, stay with me,” he murmured, his voice cracking as he cradled her in his arms. Her eyes fluttered open, their usual brightness dimmed by pain, but she still managed to find him in the haze, her lips parting to form his name.

“Elijah…” It was barely more than a whisper, but it cut through him like a knife. Her hand weakly reached up, brushing against his cheek, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the agony she was in. “I’m… okay.”

“No,” he breathed, shaking his head as his vision blurred with tears he refused to let fall. “No, you’re not. But you will be.” With a swift, decisive movement, Elijah bit into his wrist, the sharp pain barely registering as his blood welled up, rich and crimson. He pressed the wound to her lips, his other hand cradling her head as he urged her to drink.

“Please, Y/N. You need to drink,” he pleaded, his voice thick with fear and desperation. “You need to survive. For me.” His words were a command, but also a plea, as if her survival was not just necessary but inevitable.

Y/N hesitated for only a moment before the instinct to survive took over, and she latched onto his wrist, her lips parting to accept the lifeline he offered. Elijah watched, his heart in his throat, as she drank, the color slowly returning to her cheeks, her breathing becoming less labored with each drop of his blood.

When he finally pulled his wrist away, the wound on his arm healing instantly, Elijah could feel the tension in his chest begin to ease. Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed, not in death, but in sleep, as her body began to heal itself with the supernatural strength his blood provided.

He stayed with her for a long time, his fingers gently brushing through her hair as he watched the rise and fall of her chest, ensuring that she was truly out of danger. But as the night wore on and the adrenaline began to fade, another emotion took its place—fear. The fear of losing her, of being the cause of her suffering, gnawed at him, and with it came a realization that twisted his heart.

He had brought her into his world, a world of danger and death, and nearly lost her because of it. And as much as he loved her, as deeply as she had woven herself into his very soul, Elijah knew that he could not allow her to be hurt because of him again. The thought of losing her was unbearable, but so was the thought of her being harmed because of his presence in her life.

So he made a decision, one that broke his heart even as he resolved to follow through with it. He would protect her, even if it meant pushing her away. He was doing this because he loved her, he’d rather her hate him than to have to see her get hurt again.

The days that followed were a blur for Y/N. She woke in the comfort of Elijah’s bed, the memory of the battle a distant, hazy nightmare. The wound that should have killed her didn’t even leave a scar, a testament to the power of his blood and the love that had driven him to save her.

But as she recovered, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Elijah was distant, his usual warmth replaced by a cold formality that made her chest ache with unspoken dread. He was still there, still attentive, but there was a barrier between them now, an invisible wall that kept him at arm’s length.

He no longer held her close at night, no longer whispered sweet nothings in the quiet moments they shared. The gentle touch of his hand on hers had become brief, almost clinical, as if he were afraid to linger. And though he still looked at her with the same intensity, there was a sadness in his eyes, a sorrow that he tried to hide but that she could see as clearly as if it were written across his face.

It broke her heart.

“Elijah,” she finally confronted him one evening, her voice trembling as she stood before him in the grand study, the fire casting long shadows across the walls. He was seated at his desk, a book in hand, but she could tell he wasn’t really reading it. His gaze flicked up to meet hers, a flicker of something—guilt, perhaps—crossing his features before he quickly masked it with his usual composure.

“Y/N,” he greeted her, his voice smooth but distant. “Is everything all right?”

“No,” she said, her voice breaking slightly as she forced herself to hold his gaze. “Everything is not all right, Elijah. You’ve been distant… ever since that night. Ever since you saved me.”

Elijah's jaw tightened, and he looked away, as if the sight of her was too much to bear. “Y/N,” he began, his voice colder than she had ever heard it, “you needed time to heal, and I needed time to… think.”

“Think about what?” she asked, dread pooling in her stomach. His distant demeanor, his evasive gaze—it all pointed to something she couldn’t bring herself to believe.

“About us.” His words were like shards of ice, stabbing into her heart. “I’ve come to realize that this—whatever we have—was a mistake.”

Y/N felt the world tilt beneath her feet, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to process his words. “A mistake?” she repeated, her voice barely a whisper.

Elijah turned his back to her, putting the discarded book that he was reading back on the shelves, trying to keep his mind occupied, unable to face the pain he knew he was causing. “You’re human, Y/N. Fragile. Mortal. I’ve lived for over a thousand years, and I’ve seen the devastation that comes from caring too much, from allowing a human into my life. It was foolish of me to think this could ever work.”

Each word was a dagger to her heart, tearing at the love she had thought was unbreakable. “So… you’re saying that all of this meant nothing to you?” she asked, her voice trembling. “That we meant nothing?”

“It’s not about meaning,” Elijah replied, his tone clipped. “It’s about reality. And the reality is that I can’t see myself with you in the long term. You deserve a life of safety, of normalcy—something I can never give you.”

Y/N took a shaky step forward, desperate to close the distance between them. “Elijah, please don’t do this. You’re lying to yourself, to me. I know you love me.”

But Elijah steeled himself, his expression hardening. “You’re wrong,” he said, his voice hollow. “What I feel for you… it’s not enough. It’s never been enough.”

His words were a death sentence, and Y/N felt the tears she had been holding back spill over, hot and bitter. “So you laying over my dying body, sobbing, begging me to stay with you, to survive for you—meant nothing?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could utter a word, she cut him off, her voice trembling with anger and pain. "If you're going to break my heart, Elijah, at least have the fucking guts to look me in the eye while you do it."

Elijah’s mask of indifference nearly cracked at her words, but he forced himself to remain cold as he turned to face her. He had to do this, for her sake, even if it destroyed him. “It was a moment of weakness,” he said, his voice tight. “Nothing more.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as the finality of his words sank in. She had fought so hard to survive, to be with him, and now he was ripping her heart out with the same hands that had once held her so tenderly.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Don’t do this, Elijah. Don’t push me away. I love you, and I know you love me too.”

But Elijah shook his head, his eyes closing as if to block out the sight of her tears. “Goodbye, Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I hope you find someone who can give you the life you deserve.”

With that, he turned away and walked over to the bookshelves, his fingers trailing along the spines as he searched for something—anything—to focus on, trying to avoid meeting her gaze. His movements were frantic and uncoordinated, as if he were desperately looking for a book that could offer him an escape from the pain he had just inflicted. Y/N, her heart shattered into a million pieces, watched him with a mixture of disbelief and sorrow. The silence grew heavy between them as she turned on her heel and walked out, her footsteps echoing in the dimly lit study. As the door clicked shut behind her, Elijah remained by the bookshelves, his fingers gripping the spines of the volumes as silent tears began to fall. He choked back a sob, overwhelmed by the weight of his actions, his face hidden from view as he allowed his anguish to spill over.

The days that followed were unbearable. Y/N tried to move on, but everywhere she turned, she was haunted by memories of Elijah. His touch, his voice, the way he had looked at her as if she were the most precious thing in his world—it was all a cruel reminder of what she had lost.

She barely slept, her nights filled with dreams of him, of the life they could have had. And each morning, she awoke with the same ache in her chest, the pain of knowing that he had chosen to walk away from her.

Elijah, too, was suffering. Every moment without her was agony, but he forced himself to endure it, believing that he was doing the right thing. He buried himself in work, in the affairs of the Mikaelson family, but nothing could distract him from the emptiness that had settled in his heart.

He had told himself that he was protecting her, that pushing her away was the only way to keep her safe. But in truth, he was haunted by the fear that he had made the wrong choice, that he had destroyed the one thing that had ever brought him true happiness.

It was nearly a week later when Y/N found herself back at the Mikaelson estate, her heart heavy with unresolved emotions. She had tried to stay away, to respect his wishes, but the pain of their separation was too much to bear. She needed closure, needed to hear from him one last time, even if it tore her apart.

She found him in the study, where their last conversation had taken place. He was seated at his desk, the same book in his hands, though it was clear he hadn’t turned a page since she had last seen him.

Without hesitation, she burst into the room, her emotions boiling over. "Y/N—" he started, surprised by her sudden appearance, but she cut him off sharply.

“No, Elijah, don't say anything,” she snapped, her voice trembling with barely contained anger. “You’re going to sit there and let me talk.”

Elijah froze, his eyes wide as he looked at her, his usual calm demeanor shaken by the fire in her gaze. She didn’t give him a chance to respond, the words pouring out of her with all the pent-up frustration and hurt she had been holding in for days.

“You don’t get to decide what’s best for me, Elijah,” she continued, her voice rising. “You don’t get to push me away because you’re scared. Do you think I didn’t know what I was getting into when you told me what you are? I knew, and I stayed because I love you, Elijah! I love you more than anything.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but she wasn’t finished. “You’re more than just an original vampire—you’re the love of my life. And no near-death experience will scare me off. Not when I have you.”

Her words hung in the air, raw and powerful, and for a moment, Elijah was at a loss for words. The walls he had so carefully constructed around his heart began to crumble as he looked at her, truly seeing the depth of her love for him.

Slowly, he stood from the desk, his movements hesitant as he approached her. “Y/N…” he began, but his voice cracked, betraying the emotions he was trying so hard to keep in check. “I never wanted to hurt you. I thought… I thought I was protecting you.”

“Protecting me?” she repeated, her tone softening slightly as she looked up at him. “By pushing me away? That’s not protection, Elijah—that’s fear. And I’m not afraid. I survived because of you. And I’ll keep surviving, as long as I have you by my side.”

Elijah reached out, his hands trembling as they cupped her face, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that had begun to fall. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you so much. I just… I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

“You won’t,” she whispered back, wrapping her arms around him and holding on as tightly as she could. “You won’t lose me, Elijah. I’m yours. I always will be.”

The tension that had been building between them melted away as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace. Elijah’s hold on her tightened, as if he could somehow keep her safe just by keeping her close, and she smiled against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek.

The fear and pain of the past days slowly began to fade, replaced by the warmth of their love, the unspoken bond that had always connected them. Elijah pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt her chin up so he could look into her eyes, his gaze soft and filled with a tenderness that made her heart swell.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice breaking as he finally allowed himself to feel the depth of his emotions. “I promise, I will never push you away again, I love you.”

Y/N smiled, a radiant, heartfelt smile that lit up the room. “I love you too, Elijah. And I’m never going anywhere. No matter what.”

Elijah leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips, pouring every ounce of his love and devotion into that simple act. Y/N responded in kind, her arms winding around his neck as she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss with a desperation that matched his own.

When they finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, Elijah rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as he savored the closeness he had denied himself for too long.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “For staying. For loving me.”

“Always,” she replied, her fingers gently tracing the lines of his face, as if memorizing every detail. “I’m not afraid of your world, Elijah. Because it’s our world now. And as long as we’re together, we can face anything.”

He opened his eyes then, gazing down at her with a look of such reverence that it made her heart skip a beat. “You are my eternity, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice filled with a promise that spanned centuries. “And I will spend every moment of it making sure you know how deeply you are loved.”

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with the certainty that they were meant to be together, no matter the challenges they might face. “And I will spend every moment loving you right back.”

With those words, the last remnants of the darkness that had hung over them dissipated, leaving only the light of their love to guide them forward. In that moment, in the safety of each other’s arms, they both knew that they had found something truly eternal—a love that would endure through the ages, unshaken by the trials of the world.

Together, they would face whatever came their way, knowing that their love was strong enough to overcome anything. And in the quiet of that night, as they held each other close, Elijah and Y/N made an unspoken vow—a vow to cherish, protect, and love one another for all of eternity.

And as they stood together, wrapped in the warmth of their love, they knew that whatever the future held, they would face it side by side, always and forever.

Mars speaks... (again) Thank you for reading, any and all feedback is appreciated. If you wish to be added to my Elijah taglist or my taglist for anyone else I write for, lmk!

[oneforthemunny]

Reader meeting mafia!eddies friends for the first time (Gareth, Jeff, max etc) fluff😁

a little bit of mafia!eddie fluff this fine morning <3

"Are you nervous?" Eddie looked over at you, hand sliding down the bare skin of your thigh, free hand on the wheel.

You fidgeted, fingers twisting nervously. You knew he could feel it, that he was trying to soothe you under his sweet touch, but it just made your chest tighten even more. "Yeah," You admitted, gnawing on your bottom lip.

Eddie grinned at you sweetly. "Don't be nervous, baby." He hummed, giving your thigh a soft squeeze. "You're gonna love them."

You let out a breathy, nervous giggle. "I'm not worried about liking them." You muttered. "I'm worried about them liking me."

Eddie shook his head. "They're gonna love you, baby." He said, a finality in his tone that had your heart swelling. "Trust me."

It was a big step- a huge step, really. Inviting you to meet his friends- his business partners. The most trusted people in his life. It was such a vulnerable step that it made your chest tighten.

Eddie kept his circle small, you'd give him that. Three people sitting at the back booth of the restaurant Eddie always took you to. The small room in the back that was always private and reserved for him.

Eddie nodded, curt but calm when he walked in, his hand finding the small of your back gently guiding you with him. He rubbed your back through the silk of your dress as he introduced you to each person. He knew it calmed you. After the countless nights you two had spent together, he'd learned that.

"Hi," You squeaked, tight and overwhelmed with nerves. You wanted to make a good impression, to have them like you.

Jeff smiled at you warmly. "We've heard a lot about you, you know?" A teasing, lightness to his tone.

"Really?" You lifted a brow, looking at Eddie carefully, taking the seat that he pulled out for you.

"Oh, yeah. You tamed the untamable." Jeff snickered lightly, shoulder nudging Max's in playfulness. "Of course we heard about you."

"Yeah, we wanted to meet you the second Eddie told us he had at date. A real date too," Max added, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Not with the hookers at the club that he usually-"

"-Alright." Eddie snapped, eyes cutting to hers in such a menacing way it had you shivering. Max only howled in laughter, her and Jeff falling into each other in giggles.

Eddie turned to you, and for the first time ever, you could see his cheeks pink with embarrassment that he tried to hide. "They weren't hookers." Eddie added, giving you a softened look. "I don't need to hire my hookups like some people here." He hissed, glaring at Jeff.

You shifted uncomfortably, giving a soft, nervous giggle. Your eyes met Gareth, across the table. He'd glared at you since you'd first walked in, giving nothing but a curt nod, lips snarled in near disgust at you. A look he still had now.

"Um," Your hands were clammy, wiping them gently under the table. "How long have you all known each other?"

"Since high school." Max said.

"Since Junior High, for me and Gare." Jeff nodded towards Gareth with a grin he didn't return. "We were all into Dungeons and Dragons. Used to play it growing up all the time in Gareth's mom's basement."

"Dungeons and Dragons?" You lifted a brow, a tiny smile on your lips when you turned to Eddie, his face flushing in heat. "I didn't know you liked that game."

"Oh, yeah," Jeff snorted lightly. "Eddie used to be our Dungeon Master in high school. Made a whole fuckin' club."

"Dungeon Master, huh?" You giggled, squeezing Eddie's knee playfully under the table. He didn't squirm, but he tensed under your teasing.

"Yeah," Eddie's voice cracked, swallowing to even it. "It's, uh, it's fun. You ever played?"

"No," You shook your head. "Never."

"Oh, it's so much fun." Jeff nodded. "We still play sometimes. Well, when we're free." He lifted a brow at Eddie's glare. "What? We do."

"You should play sometime." Max added. "I just started playing when I met them, but it's pretty entertaining. Or at least watching them lose their shit on each other is hilarious-"

"-So, where did you say you met Eddie?" Gareth's biting tone came from the other end of the table, silencing the playful conversation you'd been having.

You swallowed, shifting uncomfortably, his eyes glaring into you. "Uh, at my job." Your voice was shaky and unsure. "I-I work at the bank."

"But you're not from here?" Gareth's eyes narrowed.

"No," You shook your head. "I-I'm from-"

"-So, you end up in Hawkins, and immediately start dating Eddie?" Gareth's tone was suspect. The table was eerily quiet, Eddie tensing beside you.

"I-I didn't- I was roommates with Nancy in college, and I needed a job, so she, um, she got me a job at the bank with Joyce-" You were stammering nervously. You weren't sure why he frightened you so much. You knew Eddie knew everything about your home life, that he'd looked into you the second he saw you.

"-You don't think that's weird?" Gareth scoffed, looking over at Eddie.

Eddie's teeth grit. "No," He sneered. "I already looked into it. Me and Rick, Gareth, you fucking know that."

Gareth's eyes rolled over you unimpressed. "Besides," Eddie's hand fell on your under the table, squeezing it tightly. "I asked her out."

Max gasped lightly, brows shooting up in surprise. "No!' She gasped. "You didn't tell us that, Munson. Is that true?" She looked at you.

You nodded, swallowing your nerves. "Yeah," You forced a small smile, still shaken by Gareth. "He, uh, he came in and was kinda an asshole." You smirked at Eddie.

Max cackled, leaning across the table towards you. "No, I gotta hear this. Eddie won't talk about it, now I know why." She snickered. "Go on, tell me every fucking detail."

[eddiesghxst]

PRICE OF FAME (PART 4/12)

AHHH HERE WE GO, ENJOY!!!

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: wayne is in town and eddie thinks he kind of hates you... maybe

contains: enemies to lovers trope, smoking, drug and alcohol use, scary and sticky feelings, king richie being king richie, and eddie thinks you taste sweet <3

word count: 3.8k

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| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

Eddie’s going insane, he thinks.

There’s something wrong with him. Something seriously wrong.

It’s been two days since Eddie slept in your room. Forty-eight hours have passed since you so graciously offered him the peace and solace of your extra hotel bed, and Eddie has yet to stop thinking about you.

The morning after sleeping in your room, Eddie snuck out as quietly as possible to avoid any awkward conversation, even if nothing was particularly awkward about the situation. He didn’t want to have to thank you for letting him stay with you, and he knew that if he’d waited until you woke up, he would have to thank you. So, he escaped first thing in the morning, as any avoidant and coward-like person would do.

He spent all day with fleeting thoughts of you— remembering the sight of you smiling under the light of the TV, the sound of you laughing, the visual of you swallowed beneath fluffy sheets and pillows, pouty lips parted to let out the cutest, most annoying, and fucking nerve-grating snores that gently lulled Eddie to sleep. 

He spent time wondering what you were doing, how you looked and sounded in the morning, and being annoyed with himself for depriving himself of the chance to witness that. He wondered if you looked for him when you realized he was no longer in the room— if you were annoyed that he left without saying anything, or if you didn’t care. God, why does he care? It’s not like you two fucked, he just crashed in your room.

That same morning, Eddie had the phantom of your scent all around him. Soft, inviting, and all things alluring, and Eddie wanted to sink his teeth into it and gnaw at it like some fucking teething dog. What the fuck?

There’s something wrong.

However, those weird and unwanted feelings have died down since Eddie hasn’t seen you in the past forty-eight hours. Granted, that’s probably because he’s been subconsciously avoiding you like the plague, which has been relatively easy, considering they’ve been on a short break.

Thankfully, Eddie had a solid reason as to why he fled your room so early that morning— to pick up Wayne from the airport. He took Wayne to a breakfast diner and treated him to a warm meal and coffee to ease the stress of traveling from his bones. 

And Wayne has never been to New York, so Eddie took the time to show him around. Eddie’s been to the city many times, and he likes to think he’s somewhat of a pro now that he knows his way around the subway. Eddie swears learning the subway was easier than passing senior year, and that says something.

After breakfast, Eddie took Wayne to the Brooklyn Bridge, where they could see the Statue of Liberty in the distance. From there, they took a cab to Times Square so Wayne could witness the absolute chaos that is New York City. They spent some time in Times Square, watching street performances and snacking on greasy foods, and they had a good time until a few people spotted Eddie.

Wayne always tells Eddie he doesn’t mind fans coming up to them and enjoys watching Eddie interact with his supporters. Still, Eddie gets weary of crowds becoming rowdy around anybody he loves, so he tries to keep the interactions to a minimum when he’s out with company.

And Wayne isn’t much of an expressive person, but Eddie’s been around him long enough to read his microexpressions easily and understand that Wayne seemed to like New York so far.

Eddie hasn’t told Wayne about Gareth, partly because he knows he’ll get a long talk about how violence solves nothing, but more importantly, because Eddie doesn’t want to admit that Wayne was right about Chrissy. 

Wayne never trusted Chrissy all that much. Chrissy was friendly, respectful, and all things socially acceptable, but she lacked in the caring department. Wayne didn’t like that Chrissy never supported Eddie’s dreams, never showed up to a single show, or didn’t even bother learning the lyrics to at least one song. She didn’t care to show up for Eddie, but Eddie was always there for her. Always.

Chrissy was greedy with love, and Wayne saw right through her innocent act.

And given that Wayne is quite the expert at seeing people for who they really are, Eddie doesn’t understand why he doesn’t see through your innocent act.

It’s Wayne’s third night in New York when you finally cross paths. You’d been passing by each other in the hotel lobby; Eddie, Wayne, and Richie leaving while you were on your way in— and Eddie was content with ignoring you, but god, you just couldn’t help yourself, could you?

 “You must be the infamous Wayne,” You smile as you shake the older man’s hand. Eddie stands between Wayne and Richie as he stuffs his hands in his pockets while Wayne greets you, pursing his lips and rocking on the heels of his feet as you and Wayne share a short introduction— Richie snickers beside him.

“You three look fancy; what’s the occasion?” You wonder aloud. Wayne smiles, and Eddie doesn’t know when Wayne became so kind to strangers, especially annoying strangers. “Eddie here is treating us to dinner,” Wayne explains, reaching over to pat Eddie’s stiff shoulder. Eddie thinks that may be your indication to leave, but he’s sadly mistaken when Richie adds, “Have you eaten yet? Would you like to tag along?”

Eddie thinks the age is getting to Richie’s head because Richie must be out of his fucking mind. 

His head snaps to glare at Richie, about to cut in until you speak up, “Oh! I couldn’t; I don’t want to impose.” You shake your head with a kind smile. Good, Eddie thinks. Don’t impose, stay far a-fucking-way.

But Richie— god, Eddie can’t believe Richie, “Ah, the more, the merrier,” he waves you off, “And the rockstar will pay for us. Who turns down a free meal?” Wayne jumps in, causing you to erupt in soft laughter.

Eddie has to end this, obviously.

“The reservation is for three,” Eddie chips in, and finally, the three of you acknowledge his presence, turning to him as he shifts on his feet. “And we don’t have time to wait for you to get ready.” He adds, pursing his lips and shrugging in an ‘oh well’ gesture.

If Eddie weren’t watching you so intently, he wouldn’t have noticed the tiny shift of you caving into yourself, but he does, and he kind of feels bad for a quick second. He doesn’t know why he feels bad because he wasn’t even lying. The reservation was for three, and with New York traffic, they should’ve been on their way roughly fifteen minutes ago.

You open your mouth to respond, probably throw in the flag and let the three men be on their way, but Richie opens his fucking mouth again, “Well, we can wait, and I’m sure you can pull some strings for a third chair, son.”

And Eddie could. He can definitely get a fourth seat because he’s friends with the restaurant owner, but Eddie doesn’t want to. And he sure as hell doesn’t want to pay for your goddamn meal, but, as always, despite Eddie’s wishes, Richie insists you tag along. 

He, Wayne, and Richie end up sitting in the lobby waiting for you to get dressed in your room. Wayne and Richie are sitting on opposite sides of the couch, Wayne quietly flipping through a magazine and Richie mindlessly people-watching as Eddie impatiently bounces his leg and pouts in the seat across them. Wayne doesn’t bother looking at Eddie when he says, “You’re gonna leave a dent in the floor, son.”

Eddie glares at Wayne and Richie, “Why did you invite her?” He snaps.

Wayne flips the page of the flimsy book, heavily sighing and shifting in his seat, “This is the girl you mentioned at breakfast, right?”

Richie snickers and raises an eyebrow at Eddie, “You mentioned Birdie at breakfast? That’s interesting.” He jokes, to which Eddie grumbles a short and snippy, “Shut up.”

And yeah, maybe Eddie did mention you to Wayne, but it wasn’t… it wasn’t like that, okay? You just piss Eddie off, and now that he’s not on good terms with Gareth, and Jeff is too busy with his head stuck up his girlfriend's ass, Eddie has nobody to turn to for a good rant, and Wayne— well, Wayne was just there. 

“Yes. But did you also hear me mention that I can’t stand her, or did you just stop listening after I said her name?” Eddie grumbles. Wayne smiles behind the magazine, and Eddie can hear it in his voice when he responds, “No, I heard it all… sounded like a load of bullshit.” 

Richie laughs, but Eddie ignores it as his face twists in confusion at Wayne’s words, “Excuse me?”

Wayne closes the magazine and looks at Eddie, “Boy, did fame take away what little common sense you had? You don’t hate the girl.”

Before Eddie can respond to Wayne’s encrypted comment, you appear, pulling their attention, “Thank you for waiting; I hope I wasn’t too long,” you huff while hastily adjusting the strap of your bag over your shoulder.

For a moment, Eddie doesn’t remember what he was groveling about or that he kind of hates you.

And you’ve always been pretty. Eddie never thought you were ugly, and quite honestly, if you’d met under different circumstances and you weren’t a pain in the ass, Eddie might’ve fucked you. But Eddie’s hatred for you outshined your beauty… most of the time. However, that film of dusty and grey disdain has been clearing recently, and Eddie’s not sure if he should turn away or keep looking because you’re breathtaking.

He doesn’t know what it is. Maybe it’s the dress you’ve chosen and how perfectly crafted it is for you, how the colors compliment your skin in an achingly perfect way. Maybe it’s the way your eyeliner is slightly smudged and smoky from your rushed movements to avoid being late for the reservation. Or maybe Eddie’s just lost his mind right along with Wayne and Richie. For now, he’ll stick with the latter.

Eddie stands up with a loud huff, “Let's go. Before they give someone else our table.” He grumbles, brushing past you and walking off without another word.

Eddie misses the slight and amused smirk on Wayne’s lips.

Wayne, you come to learn, is funny.

You’d thought the ride to the restaurant would be awkward, given that Eddie clearly doesn’t want you here, but Wayne and Richie left no room for the tension to rise. They both told stories and jokes the entire drive, and by the time you arrived at the restaurant, your stomach was sore from laughter. Honestly, you’re not sure how Wayne raised Eddie only for Eddie to end up like… Eddie. Wayne is kind and inviting and all things opposite of Eddie. You almost believe they’re tricking you.

“Since when did you become a stand-up comedian, Wayne?” Eddie sarcastically asks as he opens the door to the restaurant. Wayne had just made a joke about how Eddie was a troublemaker in high school, which Eddie clearly didn’t think was funny, given the scowl on his face.

“I’ve always been a comedian, son.” Wayne pats Eddie on the back as he steps into the fancy establishment. You glance at Eddie and thank him for holding the door as you follow behind Wayne, Richie stepping in behind you.

Eddie was able to get a change of tables, so you were able to join, and you thanked him on your way to the table as the waiter walked you all to your new designated seats. Eddie either didn’t hear you, or he didn’t care to respond; either way, you don’t take it to heart.

Once you reach your table, Wayne and Richie take the seats on the other side of the table, leaving you no other option but to take the seat next to Eddie. Eddie scoffs upon this realization, and you subconsciously chew the inside of your cheek as you settle in the chair.

For the most part, dinner goes by smoothly. You suppose Eddie’s distasteful attitude diffused once the food satiated his hunger— and you think Eddie has the character of a toddler that’s missed their nap time, and a part of you thinks it’s cute, watching him huff and fuss until he’s happily eating. You try your best to focus on the plate of food in front of you and the conversations between the four of you, but you often find yourself glancing over at Eddie. 

Because the way Eddie moves is like a movie.

Animated and smooth and all things annoyingly beautiful. The way he speaks with his hands, the way his hair brushes and sways back and forth over his shoulders when he shifts, the sound his rings make when clinking against the silverware. The way his cheeks carve lines when his lips stretch in a smile-soaked laugh, and his eyes widen when he gets excited while telling a story.

It’s captivating.

And a few days ago, you’d thought the wine was the cause for your unwanted attraction, but alas.

You blink away the haze of your short-lived trance and resume eating. Better to leave that road untouched.

Despite Eddie’s low expectations, dinner was good.

He had a nice plate full of food he couldn’t be bothered to learn how to pronounce and a glass of whiskey to wash it down. Wayne and Richie held a good conversation, though those two have always gotten along well since Richie entered Eddie’s life. Richie and Eddie tell Wayne all about life on the road, updating him on the craziest shows and sights, and Wayne informs Eddie about everybody back home.

The kids are soaking up their last weeks of freedom before college, and Max even got a nose piercing, “Somehow, that made her even more of a firecracker, that kid.” Wayne joked.

Wayne says he doesn’t know much about the older half of them, but he runs into one of them every now and then at the grocery store and such, and Eddie makes a mental note to call and check in before the holidays.

And then there’s you.

Eddie wanted to believe you were ruining the vibe of dinner, but you annoyingly made it… better. 

You eased into the atmosphere as if you weren’t a complete stranger, asking questions about Hawkins and adding stories of your childhood in Michigan. Eddie had expected you to shy away for most of the dinner since they were mostly discussing things you weren’t there for, but you were as involved as the three of them, if not more.

And Wayne and Richie adore you.

Richie has always made it known that he has no problem with you, and some might even think the two of you have a relationship akin to a father and daughter. But Richie has always been that way. He’s always quick to accept people into their circle and give them a chance. 

But Eddie didn’t expect Wayne to warm up to you as quickly as he did.

Wayne is usually wary of strangers, and just like Eddie, Wayne hates the media. Wayne witnessed the hell Eddie initially went through with the press— messy rumors and misconstrued words— and when Eddie almost threw in the towel for good, Wayne was there to wrap it back around Eddie’s knuckles and shove him back into the game. So, you can imagine the confusion reeling through Eddie’s mind when Wayne immediately becomes fond of you.

It’s annoying and stupid, and Eddie thinks you might be a witch because you have everybody under this weird spell that makes them like you. 

After dinner, everyone decided to enjoy the nice weather on a walk back to the hotel. Even though Eddie would’ve much rather liked to call a car and make it back to the hotel in less than ten minutes, he can admit that it feels nice to just walk around in light conversation. He doesn’t get much of this anymore. Most days, Eddie is busy doing shows, writing songs, talking to the press, and rolling through each day, so he doesn’t have the time to have simple and lighthearted moments like these.

He’s walking beside Richie, blowing through a cigarette and listening to Richie ramble on about… well, Eddie’s not sure what Richie is talking about because he’s so focused on you.

A few paces ahead of Richie and Eddie, you and Wayne walk together, wrapped up in an intriguing conversation, considering how intently you seem to be listening. You’re watching where you’re stepping, but you routinely turn to Wayne and nod to let him know you’re listening, and every now and then, you even glance back at Eddie and Richie with a soft smile.

And you’re so fucking cute for that.

Eddie thinks he might admire you for that— for being so kind and attentive to Wayne. And you’re like that with everyone: kind and perceptive in a way that makes people feel like they matter, like every word they speak matters. But this… this is different, Eddie thinks.

He’s unsure what it is, but seeing how you interact with Wayne makes his chest warm— like he’s drinking tea on a cold autumn day. Like he’s spent the day shivering in a cold building only to step out into a sunny sky and thaw the cold from his ribs.

It’s endearing, watching you.

Chrissy was never close with Wayne in any way, shape, or form. And although Eddie would’ve loved to see Chrissy interact and get along with Wayne, it just never happened. Not because Wayne was adamant about hating Chrissy or because Chrissy hated Wayne but because they just… never clicked. (And yeah, maybe Wayne disliking Chrissy had something to do with that, but that’s neither here nor there.)

And Wayne is a big part of Eddie’s life. He’s the main reason why Eddie is where he is today and not following in his deadbeat father's footsteps. 

Wayne is Eddie’s family.

And the fact that you can acknowledge that and treat their relationship with such respect and care— it makes Eddie feel things that he’s not very keen on feeling.

But the moment of admiration for you is quickly shattered when he catches a snippet of your and Wayne’s conversation.

“You’re a good journalist, I take it. Will I be getting interviewed for this article, too?” Wayne jokes, and you laugh, “If you’d like to, I'm sure I can make the time before you leave.” You respond.

And Eddie doesn’t like that. He hates that actually.

It’s nearly one in the morning when Eddie knocks on your door. They returned from dinner hours ago and called it a night, but Eddie is standing at your hotel room door, knocking at one in the morning. It’s a heavy and loud knock, enough to wake you out of the deep slumber you’d been in, given the way you grimace when you open the door.

You rub your eyes, blinking a few times before settling into a visible state of confusion once you realize the person in front of you is Eddie. You clear the sleep from your throat before sleepily blinking at Eddie and asking if everything is okay. 

Eddie doesn’t waste time cutting to the chase, “Are you trying to get my uncle in your piece?”

And yeah, maybe the question could have waited until tomorrow, and maybe the question is dumb and not all that serious considering it was clearly a joke, but Eddie smoked a blunt and couldn’t stop thinking about you— and looking at you now, god, Eddie believes if he hadn’t smoked too much to teeter on the edge of paranoid, he’d kiss you. You’re so cute; painted toes digging into the plush carpet (he thinks he should ask if you’ve iced your ankle tonight), oversized shirt hanging over your body like a blanket, messy imprinted lines of sheets on your cheek from your slumber, and a cute little frown gracing your lips. Eddie’s chest tightens.

“…Huh?”

Eddie almost forgot you were stupid.

“Wayne. Are you interviewing him for the article?” Eddie repeats.

You blink a few times, glancing around the empty hallway and shaking your head, “Eddie, this— this couldn’t have waited?” Your voice teeters on the edge of whiney as you speak.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, and you huff, rubbing your eyes again before shrugging, “No, I— I don’t think so. I mean… he’s the one who offered to talk. I’m down to do it if he’d like—” “That’s not happening.”

Your eyebrows pinch together in confusion, “Excuse me?”

Eddie shakes his head, “Leave Wayne out of your stupid piece, okay? I don’t want you interviewing him, asking him stupid questions, and twisting his words. He doesn’t need any of that shit.”

And you blink up at him like you’re having trouble processing what he’s saying, and Eddie really wants to fucking kiss you. 

Too much weed, he thinks. He should’ve never smoked that much after such a long T-break.

“Um,” you hum, taking a moment to register Eddie’s words before speaking, “Okay… I didn’t realize I had overstepped. I won’t interview Wayne.” You respond. Kind, polite, sweet, and all things that make Eddie’s brain waves spike.

You yawn into the back of your hand, “Can I— can I go back to sleep now?”

And you’re standing there, blinking up at Eddie with these soft and pretty eyes, and Eddie thinks… Eddie thinks, fuck it.

Now, Eddie hadn’t exactly planned to come here and kiss you. Or maybe he had; he’s not exactly sure at this point, but he can’t find it in himself to care because kissing you feels better than any drug Eddie could ever get his hands on.

Your lips are soft and sweet and taste like the lip balm you’d applied before bed. And here, this close to you, Eddie can smell the shampoo in your hair, the clean, scented body wash you use, and the fresh linen lingering scent of the hotel sheets, and it’s intoxicating. 

You’re shocked at first; Eddie can tell from how still your lips are, but when you realize that Eddie is kissing you, god, Eddie nearly melts.

You kiss like nobody Eddie has ever kissed before. Like you’ve spent years perfecting every single move, calculated and precise and all things electrifying. And if this is how you kiss when you’re grumpy and sleepy, Eddie can’t imagine how you kiss regularly.

But he shouldn’t be imagining that, and he shouldn’t be kissing you, and he shouldn’t even be here, for fucks sake! 

It takes nearly everything in Eddie's body and soul to pull away from you, and it pains him when he loses the feeling of your lips against his, but Jesus Christ, Eddie doesn’t know what came over him.

You look at him in shock, almost like you’ve seen a ghost, and Eddie doesn’t know what to do or say.

All he can do is turn around and go back to his room without another word, leaving you speechless and confused, with only the echo of his door slamming to aid both of your whirling thoughts.

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part five

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a/n: GASSSPPP A KISS ?? LMAOO NEXT PART WILL BE A BIT MORE DRAMA FILLED SO LOCK IN BESTIES! AS ALWAYS, I LOVE ALL AND ANY FEEDBACK SO PLS LMK HOW U FEEL <3

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[tinytinyblogs]

Are you defying me, darling?

The more you distance yourself, the closer they might become. Take it slow if you're unsure.

⚠️ yandere theme, unhealthy obsession, and a lot more⚠️

Hyung line, Maknae line

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Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Han

The words tore out of you, a torrent of pent-up frustration. You screamed at Han, demanding he just leave you alone. The air crackled with the raw emotion, and for a horrifying moment, he did freeze. His eyes, usually holding a gentle warmth, were wide and vacant, a reflection of the shattered world you hadn't meant to create. Here's the thing: Han craved control. He wasn't some villain, not in the traditional sense. He just wanted his perfect world, one where everything unfolded like a meticulously planned story with a happily-ever-after starring you both. But your outburst, that desperate plea for space, had ripped a hole in the tapestry of his delusion. This wasn't part of the script. The unease that had always simmered beneath the surface, a constant low hum whenever things deviated from his ideal, flared into a roaring inferno. He spent the night tossing and turning, the echo of your words carving a canyon in his sanity. He couldn't lose you. He wouldn't. But to keep you, he concluded, the "soft" Han wouldn't suffice. The next day, the man who stood before you was a chilling stranger. The gentle affection in his eyes was replaced by a steely glint.

He wasn't asking anymore. Demands, laced with a terrifying desperation, spilled from his lips. He became a constant, suffocating presence. He wouldn't let you out of his sight, wouldn't tolerate an argument, wouldn't even acknowledge the dawning fear in your eyes. This wasn't the love you craved, it was a twisted obsession, a warped interpretation of your outburst as a sign of weakness, a need for him to become the 'monster' he believed he needed to be to keep you by his side. His voice dropped to a sinister whisper as he stared into your eyes, a predator sizing up its prey. "Look at me, darling," he commanded, the term dripping with mockery. He paused, letting the silence tighten its grip around you. "This whole charade? It's under my control. You have no say in it." His hand reached up, a single finger gently tracing your jawline, sending a jolt of fear through you. "Don't even think about defying me again. Leaving isn't an option. Ever. Get that through that pretty little head of yours. Now." His voice hardened with a barely contained rage. "Because next time, darling, the scream will stay trapped inside."

Felix

He sighed, a sound that seemed to scrape against your nerves. "Look," he started, his voice deceptively calm, "I might have let the first thing slide. Maybe even the second. But this? This is pushing it, love." A thin smile played on his lips, but it never reached his eyes. They remained cold, devoid of the warmth you were used to. Disappointment gnawed at you. You'd always thought him different, the one person you could rely on to be gentle, understanding. Now, faced with his steely gaze and the way he kept inching closer, you realized how wrong you'd been. "Being the good guy all the time," he continued, his voice low and dangerous, "it gets old, doesn't it?" He stopped just a hair's breadth away, towering over you. Your back hit the wall with a thud, the trapped feeling mirroring the growing panic in your chest. "Especially," he leaned in further, his breath hot against your ear, "when the person you're being good for doesn't seem to appreciate it." A single finger grazed your cheek, sending shivers down your spine. "You made a mistake, love," he murmured, his voice a silken threat. "Let's hope you learn from it."

Looking into his eyes, you saw a storm brewing within. A storm you never knew existed, a monster you never wanted to see unleashed. Tears welled in your eyes, blurring the terrifying image before you. You'd never seen him like this – his voice, usually warm and melodic, was a low growl, his hands, normally gentle, were clenched into fists. This wasn't the Felix you knew. This was a stranger, fueled by a rage so potent, it choked the air from the room. The weight of your mistake settled on your shoulders like a physical burden. You hadn't meant to push him, to awaken this monstrous side. But the damage was done. His anger, a white-hot inferno, was directed solely at you. His words, usually laced with playful teasing, became barbed weapons. He lashed out, not physically, but his every utterance felt like a blow, tearing down the foundation of your trust. He paced the room, a caged animal seeking an escape that wasn't there. Each movement seemed to shake the room, each breath a gust of wind that threatened to extinguish the fragile flame of hope flickering within you. The lingering ache of bruises, the sting of dried tears - these were the haunting echoes of a moment you swore to never relieve.

Seungmin

The air crackled with a sudden tension you hadn't anticipated. A single, sharp laugh escaped Seungmin's lips, devoid of any humor. "No," he spat, his voice laced with ice. "Don't even think about it." The playful glint in his eyes had vanished, replaced by a cold fury that sent shivers down your spine. How dare you? You, his darling, to utter such a word – 'leave'? The audacity of it burned in his gaze. Respect was paramount to Seungmin, and your flippant demand was a blatant insult. "Jerk?" he echoed, the word dripping with dangerous venom. "That's a cute term for someone who forgets their place." He took a menacing step closer, his towering frame casting a dark shadow over you. "Don't mistake my kindness for weakness, darling." His voice dipped to a low growl, sending a primal jolt of fear through you. "There are things I can do," he continued, his words slow and deliberate, "things you wouldn't even dare to imagine. And you, my love," he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, "will learn exactly what happens when you disrespect me." A cruel smile played on his lips, a terrifying reminder of the power he held over you. This wasn't the Seungmin you knew, the charming and attentive boyfriend.

This was a predator, baring his fangs, and you were caught firmly in his sights. The playful facade had shattered, revealing a darkness you could only begin to comprehend. Suddenly, he tilted his head, a gesture that sent a fresh wave of panic through you. "Perhaps," he began, his voice low and silken, "a little reminder is in order." He took another step closer, the space between you shrinking with each calculated move. Your back hit the wall with a thud, the trapped feeling mirroring the growing terror in your chest. He reached out, a single finger tracing the delicate skin of your wrist. "Let's see," he murmured, his voice sending shivers down your spine, "how long it takes you to change your tune once you understand the consequences." A sharp sting echoed through the room as his fingernail dug into your flesh, drawing a gasp and a tear. It wasn't the pain, though it was agonizing, that made you flinch. It was the cold emptiness in his eyes, devoid of the love or concern you were used to. This single, calculated act shattered your resistance. Tears streamed down your face, hot and uncontrolled. "Seungmin, please," you choked out, your voice thick with fear and regret. "I didn't mean it, I..." His finger remained in place, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "Didn't mean what, darling?" he taunted, tilting his head to listen. "Speak clearly. I wouldn't want any misunderstandings."

Jeongin

Jeongin wasn't known for his temper, but the way his smile stretched a little too wide, a little too manic, sent a jolt of terror through you. You'd never seen him like this – his eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, now held a glint of chilling obsession. "Obsessed?" he echoed your words, his voice a sickeningly sweet drawl. "Perhaps that's a bit dramatic, wouldn't you say?" He took a menacing step closer, the air around him crackling with a dark energy you'd never felt before. "But let's get one thing straight," he continued, his voice dropping to a low growl. "That little outburst of yours? It wasn't cute. Not. One. Bit." He circled you like a predator stalking its prey, his smile morphing into a grotesque parody of amusement. "You see, darling," he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, "I find your defiance… intriguing. A challenge, even." A dangerous glint flickered in his eyes. "You think you can scream at me, tell me what to do? Think again." He straightened, his smile widening as he threw his head back and let out a chilling laugh. The sound echoed through the room, devoid of any warmth or joy, sending shivers down your spine. "This," he gestured around wildly, "isn't ending, sweetheart. This is just the beginning."

Jeongin straightened fully, the manic glint in his eyes replaced by a chilling calmness. His hand dipped into his pocket, emerging with a glint of silver – a small pocket knife, its blade catching the light with a predatory gleam. The playful facade had vanished completely. In its place stood a stranger, a predator with a dangerous glint in his eye. The air grew thick with a suffocating silence, broken only by the shallow rasp of your breath. "Since you seem to have forgotten your place," he said, his voice devoid of emotion, a chilling monotone that sent shivers down your spine, "perhaps a little reminder is in order." He took another deliberate step closer, the knife held loosely in his hand, the tip pointed demonstratively at the floor. You backed away instinctively, the wall stopping your retreat. Jeongin didn't seem fazed. He circled you slowly, the knife a constant, menacing presence. His gaze flickered from your face down to your trembling hands, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "You will learn," he continued, his voice low and menacing, "exactly what happens when you defy me." The playful pet names and teasing had been replaced by a cold, calculated cruelty. This wasn't the Jeongin you knew, the playful boy who made you laugh. This was a monster you'd unwittingly unleashed with your harsh words.