#hes learned to gently gnaw on you now
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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 😨)
#smooches talks#🎐 anon#fragile reader <3#dottore love notes <3#suggestive.content#NO ONE SPEAK TO ME IM SOFT#and “at least once”? nah far more than that tbh 😭😭 though hes learned to control the intensity of his bites#hes learned to gently gnaw on you now#he also has a tendency to keep moving your chin to make u look at him ewbwbf
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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
#ur not supposed to put sunscreen on a baby until theyre 6 months but lets just roll with it for the fic#not that anyone is taking parenting advice from a rafe cameron fanfic lmao#rafe fic#rafe fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe fluff#rafe cameron fluff#dad!rafe#dad!rafe cameron#rafe imagine#rafe blurb#rafe drabble#rafe one shot#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron one shot#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe x oc#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x oc
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Kidnapped III
Fridolina Rolfö x Baby!Reader
Summary: Your first steps
Your first steps come like most of your firsts do.
In Frido's home in Barcelona.
She'd (yet again) managed to convince your parents that it was okay to leave you in her care while they went out exploring the city for a spot to have dinner during date night.
"Alright, you," Frido says in mock seriousness, standing you up against her sofa," Let's get you walking."
You've been crawling for a little while now - also something that first happened at your big sister's house - but you've also been learning how to pull yourself up.
"Just a few little steps," Frido continues as she backs away to the wall opposite you," Come on, älskling. Come on."
You look at her blankly for a moment, stable with your hands on the soft fabric of the sofa.
Frido wiggles her outstretched fingers at you. "Come on, älskling. Just a little? I'm not very far."
"Bah!" You babble, a little finger pointed her way before you amuse yourself with picking at the threads of the blanket thrown haphazardly on the sofa.
Frido rolls her eyes. "Yes, yes, bah! But don't you want to walk to me? Look! I've got Teddy!"
She wiggles your Teddy rattle at you and you perk up at the sound of the noise.
"That's it! Come to Teddy!"
You reach out for him though, still rooted to the spot and Frido sighs.
"How did you get your Cub to walk?" She asks five minutes later, grossly impatient enough to call Mapi for advice.
"Er...She just kind of did it? She was chasing Bagheera."
"Well that's unhelpful!"
"Maybe get her a cat?"
"I don't have time to get her to bond with a cat enough for her to chase it."
"Maybe," Frido hears Ingrid yell from wherever she is in her and Mapi's apartment," If you stopped picking her up all the time she'd actually start walking! You spoil her!"
"It's not spoiling if it makes her happy!"
Frido ends the call, looking over at where you've somehow pulled yourself up onto the sofa and is now fiddling with the remote.
"You can't walk but you know how to climb?" Frido bemoans," This is so unfair."
She flops onto the seat next to you, pulling you into her lap. "You're going to walk before you go home," She says," You're not leaving otherwise."
You giggle, kicking your feet happily as Frido gently tickles the sole of your socked feet.
"And once you've started walking, we can work on those football skills."
You grunt a little bit, batting Frido's hands away when you spot your Teddy rattle on the floor.
She lowers you to the ground when you keep pushing her.
"Yeah, yeah," She laughs," Teddy's more important. I get it. Go and army crawl over there to him."
You grunt at Frido again and, like you're just trying to spite her, you put one foot in front of the other and kind of wobbly shuffle over to Teddy, shaking him so he rattles about.
"Te-Te!" You giggle excitedly, shaking him a bit more aggressively and looking at Frido as if you're presenting him to her.
"That's right. That's Teddy!" Frido laughs," And you're walking! Look at you!"
By the time your parents return home, Frido's got a little goal set up in the hall and you sitting in front of a ball.
"No, älskling!" She groans, lifting you up onto your feet again," You kick it. Remember?
You screech at her, sitting back down again and grabbing the ball with your hands.
"No," Frido says," With your feet. Like I do."
"Frido, what are you doing?" Your Papa asks, brow raised as you start gnawing on the little ball.
"She started walking!" Frido replies quickly," I reckon we can train her up now, maybe get her in a few five-a-sides and-"
"I don't think they do five-a-sides for babies."
"Later then," She says dismissively," I'll get her on the pitch at some point. Once she, you know, learns to kick and not-"
You toddle on very shaky legs to the little goal Frido set up and throw your ball into it.
Mama picks you up, throwing you up and down happily. "Goal!" She cheers," I think we've got a little handball star in the making!"
"No," Frido insists," She'll play football. Won't you, älskling? Another football player in the family?"
"Bah!" You grunt, wild little limbs hitting Frido straight in the nose as she recoils.
"I think y/n's made her choice," Papa laughs, clapping Frido on the back.
"No!" Frido says with a laugh," I refuse to accept it! That girl will be out on a football pitch before you know it!"
In the end, all of your handball medals hang up next to Frido's football ones in your parent's house.
#woso x reader#fridolina rolfö x reader#fridolina rolfö#woso community#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso
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Born Superhero | J.Ww
Genre: fluff, parent au!
Summary: Started as clueless father to superhero, watch how Wonwoo grow as a father... And a husband.
The pregnancy wasn’t an accident; it was simply... A little unexpected. Okay, very unexpected. You and Wonwoo had been married for only six months—still in the honeymoon phase, barely used to sharing closet space—when life threw you both a curveball.
Wonwoo was overseas on a business trip when he got the alarming call that you had passed out at work. The reassurances from friends didn’t help; his mind raced with every possibility, from exhaustion to something far worse. Before he knew it, he was on the earliest flight back, heart thudding as if it were trying to make its way home ahead of him.
When he finally walked through the door, ready to scold you for pushing yourself too hard, he was met with news that rendered him speechless: you were pregnant. He’d always imagined having kids... someday. But not when he was still trying to remember which side of the bed was "his."
His lips curled into a smile, the kind meant to comfort you as you nervously searched his face for a reaction. But inside? Oh, inside he was trembling so hard he half-expected an earthquake warning to pop up on the TV. Fatherhood. He was going to be a dad. The idea was thrilling, terrifying, and somehow as surreal as finding socks in the fridge.
"Well," he said, pulling you into his arms and trying not to sound like a man whose life just did a triple somersault, "I guess this explains why you kept craving pickles and ice cream together."
Wonwoo made it his mission to be your unwavering support system, even when a storm brewed behind his calm eyes. He bottled up the anxiety gnawing at him—the nagging questions about whether he’d be a good father, if he could handle the responsibility, or if he would ever stop feeling like a deer caught in the headlights of parenthood. He couldn’t bear the thought of adding his fears to your plate when you were already dealing with morning sickness that had you running to the bathroom at all hours, leg cramps that turned simple walks into wobbly adventures, and sleepless nights that left you both bleary-eyed.
So, he channeled every ounce of that anxious energy into action. He worked harder than ever, managing late nights and early mornings, making sure everything you could possibly need was taken care of—from prenatal vitamins to setting up the nursery with the precision of a man assembling a palace. Wonwoo learned to cook your favorite comfort meals, and when you suddenly decided the smell of his go-to cologne made you queasy, he switched brands without a word of complaint. He’d hold your hand through doctor appointments, his smile steady even as the “dad” word hovered in his mind like a flashing neon sign.
And when the big day came, Wonwoo felt time stop as he watched you, the love of his life, bring a new one into the world. All the fear, the endless late-night overthinking—it all melted away the moment he laid eyes on Jeon Rayi. The boy had his eyes, the same quiet intensity, and as he let out his first tiny wail, Wonwoo realized something: he was already a father, whether he felt ready or not.
As you cradled Rayi, exhausted but beaming, Wonwoo gently took his son into his arms. The weight was different than he expected, lighter but powerful, grounding him in a way he didn’t know he needed.
“Look at him,” you whispered, teary-eyed and smiling. “He’s your little twin.”
Wonwoo’s chest swelled with emotion as he looked down at Rayi, whose eyes were now blinking up at him as if to say, Gotcha, Dad.
One thing Wonwoo couldn’t quite shake from his mind was the moment before he first laid eyes on Rayi—the moment when you, exhausted and trembling, brought him into the world. He'd watched enough viral videos of husbands fainting in the delivery room to think he was prepared for anything. I’ll be fine, he’d told himself. But when it actually happened, when he saw you gripping the sides of the bed, your face etched with pain so raw it made his chest tighten, his whole body turned to stone. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, only stare wide-eyed as you endured each wave of agony.
Seeing you in pain, your body shaking as the delivery was finally declared successful, felt like a blow that rattled every nerve he had. All he wanted was to wrap you in his arms, to kiss away every tear and tell you a thousand times over how much he loved you. But he stood there, stunned and aching, until the first tiny cry of Rayi snapped him back to reality.
When the nurse placed Rayi in your arms, a hush fell over the room, broken only by your relieved sobs and the baby's soft whimpers. Wonwoo’s eyes misted as he took in the sight of you holding their son—this tiny, perfect reflection of him. The joy that filled him was almost overwhelming, a light so bright it nearly erased the memory of everything that had come before.
But later, when the room had quieted and it was just the three of you, Wonwoo sat by your side, gently brushing the hair from your damp forehead. His gaze flicked between you and Rayi, and a pained shadow passed over his eyes.
“Seeing you trembling after giving birth,” he whispered, voice hoarse and unsteady, “I don’t think we need more children. I can’t... I don’t want to see you in pain like that again.”
You looked up at him, exhaustion softening your features as you managed a small, tired smile. “Wonwoo, we’ll be okay. This little one is worth it,” you said, touching Rayi’s tiny fist as it clung to your finger.
He nodded, though the worry didn’t fully leave his expression. Deep inside, he knew you were right. Rayi was worth it. But the memory of your pain would be seared into his heart, a reminder of just how fiercely he loved you, and how deeply it shook him to see you hurt.
Wonwoo's journey as a first-time dad was filled with more surprises than he could have anticipated. In the first few weeks, he was as nervous as he had been the day Rayi was born, startled awake by every whimper and uncertain about every diaper change. He was meticulous to the point of being comical, triple-checking the swaddle and peeking into the crib every half hour to make sure Rayi was still breathing.
But as the months rolled on, something remarkable happened: Wonwoo began to relax into fatherhood. The once-trembling hands that struggled to button up tiny onesies became adept at cradling Rayi while half-asleep. He learned the art of the midnight bottle, perfecting a one-handed technique so he could hold Rayi close while warming up formula with the other. The exhaustion was bone-deep, but the sight of Rayi’s gummy smile each morning made every sleepless night worth it.
The two of you grew together as parents, finding comfort in the shared laughter and the quiet chaos of raising a newborn. Wonwoo discovered a new side of himself—one that sang silly songs at 3 a.m. just to keep Rayi from crying, that narrated mundane chores with animated voices as though he were performing on stage. His once measured, serious tone became playful and warm, especially when Rayi would respond with delighted giggles that made his heart swell.
There were moments of doubt, of course. Nights when Rayi was teething and inconsolable, when nothing seemed to work, and Wonwoo would feel the weight of his inadequacies creeping in. During those times, he’d find you both leaning on each other, whispering words of encouragement, your hands clasped in a silent promise that you were in this together. You’d remind him that parenting was messy, imperfect, and filled with trial and error, but that Rayi didn’t need perfection—he just needed love.
As Rayi grew from a newborn into a babbling infant, Wonwoo learned to celebrate the small milestones: the first time Rayi rolled over, the first tooth that peeked through his gums, and the first unsteady steps that had Wonwoo following close behind with arms outstretched, ready to catch him. Each new achievement was a moment of triumph not just for Rayi, but for Wonwoo too. Every smile, every laugh, every moment they shared felt like a victory, a reassurance that he was doing okay, that they were doing okay.
One evening, as the golden light of sunset streamed through the living room, Rayi toddled over with a wobbling gait, his chubby hands reaching out for his father. Wonwoo scooped him up, lifting him into the air and watching as Rayi squealed with joy. For a moment, all his early worries about fatherhood seemed like a distant memory. He met your eyes across the room, sharing a smile that spoke volumes about how far you’d both come.
“We did pretty well, didn’t we?” he said, more to himself, as Rayi wrapped his tiny arms around his neck in a triumphant hug.
“Yes, we did,” you replied, coming over to place a gentle hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder, leaning in to kiss Rayi’s soft cheek.
In that moment, as Rayi laughed between the two of you, Wonwoo knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, he was ready to face them—not alone, but with you and your little family, growing stronger and more full of love each day.
*
Wonwoo was out of the city for a schedule when his manager hurried toward him, phone in hand, urgency written all over his face. Wonwoo’s chest tightened. It had to be you calling. That was the compromise you both had made—only call when it was urgent. The same rule applied when he was home alone with Rayi, and you were out. If it could be handled without a call, texting was the way. But this was different. His manager wouldn’t rush over for a casual update.
“Y/N…” his manager muttered, handing him the phone. Wonwoo grabbed it immediately, putting it to his ear, his heart pounding.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, worry evident in his voice. He strained to hear past the slight static on the line, but then it hit him—Rayi’s cries, loud and unrelenting in the background.
“Rayi has a fever,” you said, your voice edged with panic. “He’s been crying nonstop for the past hour. I’m on my way to the hospital.”
Wonwoo’s breath hitched. Rayi was rarely sick. The thought of his son, usually so bright and energetic, being unwell made his stomach twist. “Where are you taking him?” he asked, biting his lip to steady his voice.
“Seoul University Hospital,” you replied, and he could hear the tremble in your voice, paired with Rayi’s cries from the backseat. “I couldn’t think of anywhere else...”
“You’re doing a great job,” Wonwoo interrupted gently, his tone firm and reassuring. “I’ll figure out how to leave early. Please, update me when you get there?”
You hummed in acknowledgment, your breaths uneven. “I will.”
“And drive safely,” he added, his voice softening despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him.
The moment the call ended, Wonwoo sprang into action, explaining the situation to the managers and the members. The moment he mentioned Rayi’s fever, everyone rallied around him with understanding and support, urging him to leave immediately.
His manager didn’t waste a second, getting him into the car for the drive back to Seoul. On the way, Wonwoo stared out the window, fists clenched on his lap, running over every scenario in his head. You had mentioned in a text last night that Rayi was feeling warm, but neither of you had expected it to escalate this quickly.
Wonwoo stepped into the hospital, his pace bordering on a run. He hadn’t had time to change out of his work clothes, though he silently thanked his manager for packing a change of clothes in the car. Right now, none of that mattered. His only focus was reaching you and Rayi.
When he got to the room, his breath hitched. The sight of Rayi, lying pale and fragile in your arms with his tiny arm connected to an IV, shattered him. It was a stark contrast to the lively boy who usually filled the house with laughter. His heart broke into pieces.
“He just fell asleep,” you mouthed softly, careful not to disturb Rayi’s slumber.
Wonwoo nodded and immediately moved to sit beside you. His eyes stayed glued to his son as you gently laid Rayi down on the hospital bed, brushing a stray curl from his forehead before stepping away.
Without a word, Wonwoo stood and pulled you into his arms. His embrace was tight, as though holding you close could somehow erase the weight of the day. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner,” he whispered, his voice thick with guilt.
“Thank you for coming,” you murmured back, leaning into him.
He pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders as his eyes searched yours. He noticed the weariness etched into your features—the sleepless night, the worry, the stress of handling it all alone until he arrived. “How is he now?” he asked gently.
You let out a deep sigh. “The doctor said it’s likely a virus. They’re monitoring him, but his fever has come down.”
Relief flashed across Wonwoo’s face, though the worry in his eyes remained. He nodded, then pulled you into another hug, this one softer, his lips brushing against your hair. “You’re doing such an amazing job, love. Thank you for taking care of him.”
You smiled faintly against his chest, grateful for his words, even though the exhaustion still weighed heavily on you.
“You should rest now,” Wonwoo said, pulling back to look at you again. “I’ll stay with him and take care of everything tonight. You need sleep.”
But you shook your head, stubborn as always. “No, I can’t. I need to be here.”
Wonwoo sighed, but he didn’t push further. He knew better than to argue when you were this determined. Instead, he brought over a chair and sat beside you. That night, the two of you stayed awake together, taking turns checking Rayi’s temperature and watching his small chest rise and fall with each steady breath.
Every so often, Wonwoo would glance at you, catching the way your gaze softened as you looked at Rayi. In those moments, despite the exhaustion and worry, he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude—for you, for Rayi, for the family you’d built together.
By the time the early morning light began creeping through the hospital curtains, you leaned your head against his shoulder, both of you too tired to talk but sharing an unspoken bond of love and determination. Whatever challenges lay ahead, you knew you’d face them together.
*
The hospital room was quiet except for the soft hum of medical equipment. After two long days of watching over Rayi, exhaustion had overtaken you and Wonwoo. Neither of you had gone home since that night, surviving on restless naps on the small couch by Rayi's bedside. Wonwoo tried to stay alert, but his body betrayed him, slipping into moments of sleep. Every time he woke, guilt would gnaw at him as he saw you still wide awake, your eyes fixed on Rayi, your motherly instinct unwilling to rest.
That morning, as sunlight filtered through the window, Wonwoo stirred and glanced at you. You were slowly getting up from the couch, your movements unsteady. He sat up quickly, alarmed as you swayed slightly, your hand gripping the armrest for support.
“Babe, are you okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. He moved to your side just as you nearly stumbled. Placing a hand on your forehead, his expression darkened. “You’re burning up. I think you have a fever.”
“Oh no,” you muttered under your breath, more annoyed with yourself than anything.
Wonwoo's hands gently cupped your face, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Please rest, babe. You’ve been running on fumes, and Rayi wouldn’t want to see his mom pushing herself too hard.” His voice was soft but firm, and the concern in his eyes made your chest tighten.
You blinked rapidly, trying to hold back tears. His words hit too close to home, but you didn’t want to break down. Not now.
Unfortunately, your body didn’t give you much choice. By midday, your fever had worsened, leaving Wonwoo no option but to call his brother to watch over Rayi while he took you to the emergency room.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled weakly as you laid on the hospital bed, waiting for the test result.
“No,” Wonwoo said, shaking his head, his tone gentle but resolute. “I’m sorry. You’re sick because you’ve been taking care of Rayi and pushing yourself beyond your limit. I should’ve been better at taking care of you too.” He reached out, softly patting your head in an attempt to comfort you.
Your head throbbed, and the dizziness didn’t help. You couldn’t help but think about Rayi and how frustrating it must have been for him to endure the same symptoms. “This headache... I think I know why Rayi was so upset,” you murmured faintly, earning a sad chuckle from Wonwoo.
“Still hurts?” he asked, his hand tightening around yours. You nodded weakly, and his expression crumbled. He hated feeling helpless, but right now, all he could do was stay by your side, offering silent support.
When the test results finally came back, the doctor informed you that you were dehydrated and your body was too run-down to fight off the fever. “We’ll need to keep you for observation,” the doctor said.
Wonwoo nodded, his grip on your hand steady. “Do whatever it takes to make her better,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.
As the nurses prepared for your moving, he turned to you, brushing hair away from your face. “You’re going to rest now, okay? No arguments,” he whispered with a small, tired smile.
After hours of shuffling between emergency room and paperwork, Wonwoo finally managed to arrange for you and Rayi to share a private room. It was ironic, he thought, as he pushed the wheelchair carrying you to the room—both his loves were now patients, and he was playing the role of a full-time caregiver.
Rayi lay in his hospital bed, still hooked up to the IV, his tiny frame looking so much better than days ago under the blue blanket. You were wheeled to the second bed beside him, visibly exhausted but trying to stay strong.
Wonwoo helped you settle in, adjusting your pillow and tucking the blanket around you like you always did for Rayi. “There. Now I have both of you in my sight,” he said softly, sitting down between your beds with a sigh of relief.
You gave him a weak smile. “Not how I imagined our first family staycation.”
Wonwoo chuckled, though there was a hint of tiredness in his voice. “Yeah, I don’t think this is making it to our family scrapbook.” He reached out, holding your hand in one of his while keeping the other near Rayi’s bedside.
The days that followed were a blur of tending to both of you. Wonwoo quickly fell into a rhythm—feeding Rayi when he woke up crying, gently wiping your face with a cool cloth to keep your fever down, and running back and forth to fetch food or talk to doctors.
At one point, as you watched him juggling everything, you couldn’t help but smile. “You’re really something, Jeon Wonwoo. I didn’t think you had it in you to manage two patients.”
He looked at you, his glasses slipping slightly down his nose as he smiled back. “Turns out I’m pretty good at this dad-and-husband thing. But don’t get any ideas about a repeat performance.”
“Noted,” you said, laughing softly.
Rayi started to recover quickly, his fever subsiding by the second day. You could see him regaining his usual cheerfulness, even managing to giggle when Wonwoo made silly faces. But that didn’t stop Wonwoo from being extra cautious, checking on both of you every few minutes.
One evening, when Rayi was sound asleep, you watched Wonwoo nodding off in the chair between the two of you, his head tilted awkwardly. “Wonwoo,” you whispered, shaking his hand gently.
“Hm?” He jolted awake, rubbing his eyes and looking around.
“Go to the couch and sleep,” you said softly.
He shook his head. “I’m fine here. What if one of you needs me?”
You smiled, your heart swelling with gratitude. “We’re okay, Wonwoo. You’ve done so much already. Please rest.”
Reluctantly, he agreed, dragging himself to the small couch in the corner. As he lay there, his head resting on a folded jacket, he thought about how much this experience had changed him. He wasn’t just a husband or a dad anymore—he was part of a team, a family that needed him, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.
As you drifted off to sleep, with Rayi’s soft breathing filling the room, you glanced at Wonwoo one last time. Despite his exhaustion, there was a peaceful smile on his face, and you knew that in his quiet, unwavering way, he would always take care of both of you.
*
After six long days at the hospital, the "family staycation" was finally over. Wonwoo drove the three of you home, the car filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by Rayi's babbles from the backseat. The little boy had been released two days earlier, and during that time, Wonwoo had asked his parents to take care of him so you could recover without any distractions. Now, as the car pulled into the driveway, Rayi was buzzing with excitement to be home again—and to be with you.
The moment you stepped inside, Rayi nearly leaped into Wonwoo's arms, squealing with delight. “He really missed us,” Wonwoo said, his voice soft with affection.
“I think he missed the house more,” you teased as Rayi wiggled to be put down. The instant his feet touched the floor, he zoomed off on his walker, embarking on a grand tour of the house.
Wonwoo chuckled as he picked up the bags, watching Rayi disappear into the kitchen. “Guess he’s making sure everything’s still here.”
Meanwhile, you sank into the couch with a relieved sigh. Days of lying in a hospital bed had made you sluggish, and even standing for more than a few minutes felt like an Olympic feat. As much as you wanted to jump back into your routine, your body begged for more rest.
Wonwoo joined you on the couch, plopping down beside you with a contented groan. Together, you watched Rayi race around, his walker creating an amusing squeak with every step as he stopped to admire his favorite show playing on the TV.
“You know what…” Wonwoo said suddenly, his voice thoughtful.
“Hm?” you hummed, turning to him.
“The most cliché thing that would happen now is me falling sick,” he joked, leaning his head back and closing his eyes as though imagining the scenario.
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You? No way. You’re strong. You won’t get sick.”
He nodded, pretending to agree, but the twinkle in his eye betrayed his skepticism. “Let’s hope you’re right,” he said with a grin.
But hope wasn’t enough.
A few days later, the doorbell rang, and you were greeted by a pile of fruit baskets and home-cooked meals from Wonwoo’s bandmates. Word had gotten out that Wonwoo had come down with a fever and couldn’t make it to the schedule.
You peeked into the living room where Wonwoo lay sprawled out on the couch, bundled in a blanket with a thermometer sticking out of his mouth. He groaned dramatically when he saw you holding the care packages.
“I told you it was going to happen,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by the blanket.
You stifled a laugh as you set the baskets down. “Guess you’re not as strong as I thought.”
“Hey, I fought off a virus and took care of two patients for a week,” he said, sitting up slightly to defend himself. “I deserve some slack.”
“You do,” you agreed, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Now let me take care of you for a change.”
From the corner, Rayi giggled, pointing at his dad bundled up like a burrito. “Appa funny!” he chirped, and you couldn’t help but laugh along.
Despite his fever, Wonwoo smiled. Even in his weakened state, he knew moments like these were what made being a parent and a husband so worth it.
#seventeen fanfic#seventeen imagines#seventeen angst#densworld🌼#seventeen scenarios#seventeen series#seventeen drabbles#seventeen fanfiction#seventeen imagine#wonwoo oneshot#wonwoo imagine#wonwoo imagines#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo dad au#wonwoo scenarios#wonwoo series#wonwoo fic#wonwoo ff#seventeen wonwoo#jeon wonwoo#wonwoo x reader#svt wonwoo
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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.
#ink by bambi#simon riley/reader#simon riley x reader#ghost/reader#ghost x reader#simon riley/you#simon riley x you#modern warfare imagine#modern warfare fanfic#simon riley imagine#simon riley smut#mondern warfare smut
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[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.
#I missed him sm 🥺🧡#bakugou katsuki#bakugou katsuki fluff#bakugou katsuki x reader fluff#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki x f!reader#bakugou katsuki imagine#bakugou katsuki bnha#bakugou#bakugou fluff#bakugou x reader#bakugou x reader fluff#bakugou x f!reader#bakugou imagine#bakugou bnha#bnha#bnha fluff#bnha imagine#bnha x f!reader#bnha x reader#bnha x yn#bnha x y/n#bnha x you#dad!bakugou#dad!au#dad!bnha
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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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summer's golden haze - chapter five
pairing: lando norris x reader
summary: a day trip to ibiza, a nightclub, and max—who can't keep his mouth shut. (5.3k)
a/n: apologies for the lack of new chapters these past few months! writer’s block is such a bitch but i’m happy to say that i am back and working on this series as best i can <3
previous chapter | masterlist
Everything people say about time flying when you’re having fun has never been truer. You’ve developed a close friendship with Lando and his friends, and something even better with the boy himself.
You’d say you were surprised at how fast you’ve fallen for him, but you’d be lying. Sure, you haven’t known him long at all, but it wasn’t hard to figure out that Lando Norris really was that missing thing in your life. He slots in like he was meant to, just as you hoped he would.
You’ve all found yourselves spending more time at their place than yours because it’s just nicer. Today is no different.
Lando’s chin sits hooked over your shoulder comfortably, stubble on his face a little scratchy, but it doesn’t annoy you. Especially not with the way the thumb of his hand on your waist is rubbing circles into the sliver of bare skin between your top and shorts.
He’s warm to the touch, but not unbearably so, more like a comforting warmth draped against you as he nuzzles closer.
He likes to be close to you, you've learned very quickly—more often than not always having some part of him touching you. Fingers intertwined with yours, an arm slung over your shoulders, a hand on your waist. When you're sitting, it's a thigh pressed against yours, a warm palm blanketing your knee.
Right now, he’s decided on sharing the same sun lounger as you, wedged himself in behind you comfortably.
Normally, you might’ve been put off by the sheer amount of casual physical affection he shows, but you can’t bring yourself to mind it. You want to be close to him all the time too, you’re just taking a little longer to warm up to instigating it.
“What’re you lot up to tomorrow?” He asks casually, walking his fingers down your arm.
“Mm, nothing probably. Might just do a beach day and chill out. Maybe take a little walk, I dunno.” You shrug. “You?”
“Flying to Ibiza for the day. My mate Martin’s doing a DJ thing at a club there, figured we’d go support a friend.”
You pout up at him, cooing. “You guys are so sweet.”
“Yeah, yeah, alright. Come off it now.” He rolls his eyes, pinching your hip. You squirm at the ticklish feeling, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. He perks up then, and you swear you can almost see the gears turning in his brain. “Would you guys wanna come with us? We could hit up the beach together, hit up Martin’s gig at night, then fly back here afterwards.”
“It’s a boys’ day trip, we wouldn’t want to crash it,” You insist, shaking your head. “We’ll see each other when you get back.”
“But I’ll miss you.” He frowns, wrapping an arm around your waist.
“I think you’ll be fine.”
He buries his nose into the crook of your neck, muffling his response. “No, I think I might die.”
It’s kind of sweet, you think, that Lando gets so pouty over not getting to see you for just a day. One might call him clingy, but you find it cute.
You attest it to the two of you still being in the honeymoon phase of your relationship, and it makes you happy, but something else gnaws at your stomach. You’re not even sure what it is.
Before you can say anything, he angles his head towards the rest of the group, covering your ears gently before shouting, “Oi! We’re all going to Ibiza tomorrow, it’s been settled already. We’ll swing round yours to pick you girls up, then head to the airport.”
He gets no objections from anyone, which you didn’t think he would, and it makes him beam.
You try to see it from his perspective. Sun, sand, beautiful views. The two of you get to spend the day together on the gorgeous beaches of Ibiza. If you put aside your worries, everything sounds wonderful.
So why do you have this nagging feeling this isn't going to go as smoothly as Lando says it will?
-------
It seems like you’ve just blinked and suddenly it’s the next morning and you’re heading into the hangar of a private airstrip.
The sun has barely begun to peek over the horizon, and honestly, you’re still half asleep. Most of your weight is leaned against Lando’s shoulder, who’s got a strong arm slung around your waist even as he chats away with his boys on the way in.
You haven’t packed much at all, just a bag with a nicer outfit you can change into before going to the club. Lando insisted on carrying it for you, so it sits looped over his other shoulder.
You aren’t sure what you were expecting when he’d brought up flying to Ibiza just for the day, but for some reason, the private jet your gaze lands on as soon as you enter the hangar has you a bit stunned for words. The unfamiliarity of your surroundings wakes you up even more as you ascend the stairs onto the jet.
A long sofa stretches across the wall opposite you, sleek white leather to match the cushy armchair you’ve settled into. Elegant polished dark wood tables separate the banks of chairs, and there’s a fully stocked bar at the back. Even the lighting of the cabin screams money, not those awful dim blue lights on commercial airlines.
This is the kind of thing you’ve only seen in movies, and now here you are about to enjoy a few hours on one with your very new, very rich boyfriend. It feels unreal, and honestly a little daunting.
Then in the back of your mind, you remember that this is probably just how his life is. Private jets and day trips to beautiful places, anything he wants anytime he wants it.
It’s one of two thoughts echoing through your head through the whole flight, the second one being that you don’t belong here. You don’t ride along in chartered jets, or go on impromptu day trips to beautiful islands. This is all completely uncharted territory for you and it makes your stomach twist, but you’re able to just pass it off as being a nervous flier.
Lando holds your hand, makes sure you’re comfortable the whole time, and that’s that. There’s no need to worry him about what’s running rampant through your mind.
Thankfully, you fall asleep not too long into the flight, and you don’t wake up until you’re on the ground in Ibiza. From there, it feels like a whirlwind has taken hold of you. You’re put into a car, driving, driving, driving god knows where.
Lando won’t tell you a thing, just kisses your cheek and tells you not to worry. And just when you think you’re at your destination, you’re squeezed into a golf cart that eventually drops you off at a seemingly private marina.
A large yacht sits before you, pristine white and polished to perfection. Lando beams, holding his arms out to the side like a game show host. “Ta-da! Look what we got for the day!”
You’re at a loss for words. When he’d agreed to a joint beach day, you thought you’d actually be going to…well, a beach.
“How the fuck did you manage to charter a yacht on such short notice?” Maren asks, clearly disbelieving.
Lando aims a look at her over his sunglasses, arching a brow. “What, like it’s hard?”
“Don’t do Elle Woods. You can’t pull it off,” Samira chimes in, to which Max nods his agreement.
“Everyone’s a critic nowadays,” Lando mutters under his breath, flipping both of them off. “Just get on the boat, dream killers!”
Your friends seem to be taking it in a much better stride than you are, because they go exploring the moment they climb right on alongside the rest of the boys, chattering excitedly. You, on the other hand, have to take a moment after Lando helps you on.
“So? What do you think?” He asks earnestly, rocking on the balls of his feet.
“It’s gorgeous,” You admit, chuckling nervously. “I didn’t know you were planning on getting a yacht.”
“Yeah, I got it so we could have the day to ourselves. Dock somewhere remote, swim and have fun without anyone else around. I know how important privacy is to you, and I wanted you to be able to relax today.”
It hits you like a heavyweight right then. Lando did this for you.
Went through all these last minute hoops that probably cost a fortune just so you’d feel comfortable. It has to be the sweetest, albeit most outrageous, thing anyone’s ever done for you.
You close the distance between you in two steps, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. The force of it makes him stumble back a little bit, but he’s quick to recover, nuzzling deep into the crook of your neck with a smile you can feel pressed against your skin.
“That was one hell of a thank you,” He breathes. You shrug innocently and he laughs, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Ready to have some fun?”
Turns out fun means putting an anchor down just off the shore of some small island not too far away. The day is starting to heat up a bit, perfect for you and the girls to stretch out on the cushioned benches and soak up the sun whilst the boys mess around in the water off the back of the boat.
You’re not sure how long you lay there, but you’re about ready to drift off when you feel something on your face. A drop of water hits you square in the forehead, another hits your cheek, and it makes you peek one eye open.
Lando stands right above you, beaming down at you as he drips water everywhere.
“Hi. Water’s nice,” He says, shaking his hair out not unlike a dog would shake out its fur. Droplets spray all over you with the action, making you squeeze your eyes shut momentarily.
You wipe the water off your face with an amused chuckle. “Yeah, I think I can tell. Thanks for that, by the way.”
“You should come in.”
“Maybe later. My sunscreen might not be dry yet.”
“I think it’s plenty dry.”
You arch a brow at his insistence, suspicious of the mischievous smile curving his lips, the glint in his eyes. He’s got something in that mind of his, and you’re starting to grasp what it might be. You sit up, inching away from him as he creeps closer. “Stop it. Lando, no. Don’t even think about it!”
He flops on top of you gently, enough to make you roll your eyes but not enough to smother you. “Lovely place to have a lay, innit?” He says innocently, squinting down at you.
“It was,” You groan dramatically, wrinkling your nose at the puddle of water beginning to pool around you. “Now I’m being crushed.”
“Are you calling me fat?”
“No, no, the words you're looking for are big and strong and handsome. Did I mention the word strong?”
“Twice, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.”
“Careful, or I might start to think you have a praise kink,” You joke. Though judging by the immediate blush that blooms across his cheeks and ears, you might’ve just discovered something about your boyfriend. “Oh! You—I didn’t mean it like—”
His lips press against yours before you can finish your sentence as if to deter you from finishing your sentence, and you forget what you were saying in the first place. You’ve found that this is usually the case any time Lando kisses you, any and all previous thoughts disappearing without a trace only to be taken up by one singular thing—him.
“Get a room, you two!” Samira grumbles, bringing you back to reality. “Happy for you and all, but I’m trying to sleep over here.”
Right.
You’d forgotten you were laying right next to her. Evidently Lando has too, because he whines something unintelligible, face hot against your bare skin as he buries his face into the crook of your neck in embarrassment.
“Sorry,” You mumble, giving Lando a pat on the back to make him get off you. He does so, but not without a pout. The quick kiss you press to his shoulder when you pull yourself into an upright position is enough to settle him.
He tilts his head invitingly, eyes bright now. “Come swim?”
“Is the water nice?”
“It’d be nicer if you were in it.”
“I’m serious, Lando! Is it cold?”
“Guess you’ll just have to jump in and see.” He shrugs, winks at you playfully before ambling away.
You can’t help but admire Lando as he walks away from you, broad shoulders on full display, muscles shifting as he stretches his arms high over his head. Moles dot the expanse of his back, and it makes you want to trace your fingers along his tanned skin like you’re playing connect the dots.
You’re expecting him to head for the back of the boat, but he goes towards the ladder heading up to the roof of the boat.
“Now what exactly do you think you’re doing?” You call after him, raising your hand to block the sun shining in your eyes.
“Jumping off the roof!”
“Are you serious?”
“It’s totally safe! I’ve done it before,” Lando reasons, waiting until he reaches the top of the ladder to offer you a smile. Somehow that doesn’t make you feel any better about him taking a flying leap from that high. “Wanna give it a go?”
The words fuck and no teeter at the very tip of your tongue, but he’s grinning so big, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t at least a little bit intrigued.
Jumping off the roof of a yacht into crystal clear waters isn’t something you’ve ever thought you’d do, but then again, you’ve been doing a lot of things you never thought you’d do on this trip.
“If I die, I’m haunting your ass forever,” You warn. Once you’re up the ladder on your own, you accept his outstretched hand onto the roof as he leads you carefully to the edge, fingers firmly tangled with yours.
“There’s no one I’d rather be haunted by.”
He leaps, taking you with him before you can even think of a response, and for a few moments, you feel weightless, falling through the air with nothing but Lando’s hand to ground you. It feels less terrifying and more freeing than you’d thought.
You squeeze your eyes shut just before you hit the water, keeping them closed as you sink deeper and deeper. Lando’s hand leaves yours, but you don’t panic. You let yourself float, reveling in the quiet of being underwater until you start to feel it in your chest, and only then do you push towards the surface in a flume of bubbles.
The breath of air you inhale once you get above water is refreshing, and you tip your chin towards the sky, taking in the warm sunlight with a sigh. You wipe away the water cascading down your face before paddling back towards the boat, where Lando is sitting with his legs hanging off the back of it, waving at you.
“What’d you think?” He asks earnestly once he’s pulled you out of the water to sit next to him.
“That was…exhilarating.”
“See, I told you it was fun! Stick with me, baby, I’ll show you the world.”
Somehow, you don’t doubt that. If you’re an example of playing it safe, Lando is the definition of full sending it, impulse and chaos behind a handsome face.
-------
The day flies by, and before you know it, it’s time to head back to shore. Thankfully, the yacht is well equipped with a shower in the bathroom, so you’re able to freshen up nicely when the time comes.
Lando lets out a low whistle when you emerge back out onto the deck, eyes dragging down your whole body, drinking in the sight of you with his lower lip tugged between his teeth. The intensity of his gaze sends a shiver down your spine, makes your cheeks flame hot.
“Damn, you’re hot, girl!” He grins, winking at you.
“Stop it,” You huff, adjusting the strap of your heel.
“What? It’s true! Can’t I pay my hot girlfriend a compliment?” He argues, looking absolutely giddy. “C’mon, give me a spin.” You roll your eyes but oblige, and he whistles again. “My god, I’m a lucky guy.”
“You’re so ridiculous,” You chuckle, letting yourself be tucked under his arm as you make your way to join the rest of your friends.
“If ridiculous means obsessed with you, then yes, I am ridiculous.”
The place is only a stone’s throw away from the public beach near the marina and already bouncing when you get there. You’re expecting to fold into the crowd of people, but Lando skirts around it, heading for the very front of the giant area, towards the DJ box.
Maren’s hand clamps around your arm, squeezing tightly. “That’s Martin fucking Garrix!” She hisses, jutting her chin towards the stage aggressively. “You didn’t tell us Lando’s friend Martin was Martin fucking Garrix!”
“He didn’t even tell me, how was I supposed to know?!” is all you can utter back in response.
You’re just as taken by surprise as she is. You’d have never expected Lando’s friend Martin to be Martin Garrix. It’s not a connection you would’ve made at all, but you keep forgetting Lando is actually famous. Of course he has famous friends.
Martin gestures for one of the other people there to take over the set, swapping out to come say hello as soon as he spots Lando. Both boys sport identical massive smiles.
“Mate, it is good to see you again,” He says earnestly, bringing Lando into a tight hug. “I’ve been meaning to make it out to a race! You look great out there, though.”
Lando shrugs, enthusiasm flickering a little at the mention of work, but only for a split second. “Could be doing better, but yeah, cheers!”
Martin’s eyes flick over to you and he must get the sense that you’re a little nervous, because his smile turns more polite. “See you’ve made some new friends. Nice to meet you all, I’m Martin.” Then he notices how Lando’s moved closer to be next to you and you’re sure he’s already got things figured out. “Enjoy the set! I’m sure Lando will take good care of you.”
A few drinks in your system helps relax the knot of nerves sitting on your chest a significant amount, enough so to where you’ve actually started to enjoy yourself.
Lando’s hands slide around your waist from behind to sit at your hips, chest pressed up against your back as his chin drops down to nestle in the crook of your neck. He moves with the beat and you find yourself following, guided by his firm grip.
It’s so easy to get lost in him. You want to let yourself get lost in him, let yourself sink back into him and let your inhibitions free. But you can’t.
Anyone can see you right now, seeing as you’re not exactly in a private place. You’re tucked off to the side, partially obscured by Martin’s booth and entourage, but it wouldn’t be hard for someone to take a good look and recognize Lando, even with the smoke and flashing lights.
It’s risky to stay like this, and you want to tell him that, but then his lips press against the skin of your shoulder tenderly and your brain nearly short circuits. Heat blooms where he kisses you, traveling up to your cheeks and down to your toes like you've just been standing too close to a flickering fire.
It isn’t until his nose nudges in right behind your ear, and his warm breath fans across your heated skin, that you suddenly feel like you can’t breathe. The loud music dulls down into background noise to the pounding of your heart in your ears.
Taking a shuddering inhale, you wriggle free of Lando’s grip, mumbling something to him about needing air as best you can and taking off before he can figure out what’s happening.
You squeeze through the crowd rather forcefully, just needing to get somewhere without people, somewhere quiet where you can catch your breath and calm yourself down.
Somehow you find yourself back at the beach, throwing yourself down onto a bench and burying your face into your hands with a frustrated, strangled groan.
You don’t even know what’s wrong. Everything is good—you’re with your best friends, with Lando, and you’re supposed to be having fun. So why do you feel like you’re not supposed to be here?
The answer is a mystery even to you.
Watching the gentle waves lap over the shore proves rather soothing, a repetitive back and forth that helps ease your mind just the slightest bit. Only a few people mill around at this time of night, and they pay you no notice. You’re free to drown in your own thoughts without any of them being any the wiser.
Footsteps approach some time later. How long, you’re not exactly sure—wallowing in your own self pity feels timeless. The tips of a familiar pair of trainers step into your field of vision, and you make yourself let your gaze follow up to see the extremely concerned face of their owner.
Lando doesn’t say anything when you meet his eyes, just holds out his hand for you to take. When all you do is blink at him, then he speaks. “C’mon, let’s take a walk.” He tilts his head over his shoulder, towards the beach behind him.
“I can’t walk on sand in these heels,” You sniff, scowling a little bit. It’s a shit excuse, you know that, but you don’t feel like being very cooperative right now.
“I’ll hold them,” He replies, toeing off his own shoes first. You give in almost too easily, slipping off yours to give to him and accepting his other hand up. His fingers immediately intertwine with yours, tugging you closer to him as you step into the sand.
You walk along the shore for a while before either of you feel like saying anything, and it’s him who speaks first.
“Are you alright, love?” He asks gently. Rather than saying anything, you press your lips together. “C’mon, will you talk to me? Please?” His voice is so soft, so full of genuine concern for you it makes you start to feel bad. “I think it’ll make you feel better, instead of holding everything in.”
“All of this—the jet, the yacht, everything—it’s a lot to take in,” You admit quietly, staring hard at the sand in front of you. “And I know you did it for me, so I’d feel comfortable, and I love how thoughtful you are when it comes to these things. But I…this is all completely new for me. Like, I can’t help but feel like such an outsider.”
Lando’s expression crumples. “Oh. I didn’t mean to—that wasn’t my intention. To make you feel like you don’t belong.”
“You don’t need to be sorry. It’s not you, it’s me.”
“This sounds like the start of a romcom breakup scene,” He says, then he freezes, brows furrowing. “Wait, is this—”
“No! No, I’m not breaking up with you. I’m just…saying things.”
“Okay.” He nods, looking thoughtful. “How can I fix this, how can I help with what you’re feeling?”
You smile at him, grateful that he’s asking even though there isn’t anything for him to do about how you’re feeling. Putting it out there is already starting to help, actually. You were scared about your thoughts and feelings being cast aside, but Lando hasn’t done that. He’s nothing but kind and caring about it. About you.
“I’m fine, Lando. Thank you though, you’re sweet,” You assure him, kissing his cheek. “Mind if we walk a little longer before going back to Martin’s set?”
“We don’t have to go back,” He suggests. “We can stay here, go somewhere else, anything you want.”
“I want to go back. It’ll be fun,” You say, nodding firmly. The action is meant to reassure yourself more so than Lando, but he’s the one who looks wary.
His head cocks to the side, brows furrowing in gentle caution. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. I’ll be fine, I promise.”
-------
The jet is quiet on the way back to Greece after Martin’s gig lets out, with good reason. It’s late at night, bordering on very early morning, and everyone’s asleep except you and Max, who’s on the phone with his girlfriend.
Judging by the way Lando immediately found his way into your space as soon as you all settled in for the flight and promptly conked out not five minutes later, he's exhausted.
You glance down at the boy currently snoozing away curled up with his head in your lap, one of your hands clutched between both of his. His chest rises and falls rhythmically in his sleep, long lashes fluttering against the tops of his cheekbones.
Honestly, you don’t think you’ve ever been as content with someone as you are now with Lando. Even though things between you are still new, you feel like you really can be yourself without judgement around him too. And that talk you’d had at the beach has definitely lifted the weight off your shoulders a good amount.
Still, there’s something else you have to get off your chest. You turn your gaze on the only other person you can talk to right now, the one person you do want to talk to.
Max ends his call shortly after with a quiet love you, see you soon, catching your eye with a sheepish smile as he sets the phone down on the table. “Pietra says hi. She’s looking forward to meeting you guys when she flies in.”
“We’re excited to meet her too, she sounds amazing.”
“Yeah, she is,” Max sighs. Then he squints at you, like he knows something is amiss. “Is everything alright? You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”
You nod carefully, absentmindedly winding one of Lando’s springy curls around your finger. He exhales a little harder in his sleep when you let it bounce back into place but doesn’t wake up, just snuggles deeper into you. “It’s kind of a weird thing to bring up, but I feel like I have to ask.”
“Anything, go ahead. We’re friends, aren’t we?” It’s actually reassuring to know that Max’s opinion on you hasn’t changed since you’d gotten together with his best friend. You’re still friends just the same. That thought helps you muster up the courage to say what’s been weighing on you.
“Are you okay with us? Lando and I, I mean.”
You aren’t seeking his approval or anything, you just want him to be okay with the two of you. Or maybe you are, you’re not really sure. Max is Lando’s best friend, his brother. Other than Lando’s family, who you can't even think about meeting one day without your stomach churning, he's the person who's known Lando best since they were kids.
All these people, they’re everything to him, and it's important for you to know where they stand.
Max smiles warmly, says your name in that same soft, gentle way Lando always does when you get unsure. “You’re exactly the kind of person Lando needs in his life. Someone away from everything he’s got going on, someone who genuinely cares for him the way you do. You’re perfect for each other, and I hope you know that.”
You swallow the lump rising in your throat, smiling at Max through eyes glossy with welled up tears. His blessing brings you comfort, even if you weren't looking for it. “Thank you.”
“No, I feel like I should be the one thanking you.”
Your brows furrow, head tilting curiously to the side as to what he means. “Me? What did I do?”
“I know Lando’s filled you in about what’s been going on, so you know that he’s had a bit of a rough time lately.” Max says softly, clearing his throat to rid himself of the emotional thickness in his tone. You can tell how much Max really loves and cares for Lando. “He’s not been himself for a while, so this summer break, this trip, it was something that might help him leave it all behind. Just relax and find himself again, ‘cause it wasn’t good for him, bottling it all up like he was.”
Your heart aches for Lando. You can’t help but want to protect him. It was true when you’d been just friends and only grown truer since.
“I wasn’t sure if it was doing him any good, but then we met you, and I swear to god I haven’t seen him smile this much in ages. He’s been so happy, so in love, it’s been—shit, I don’t even know what else I can say other than thank you. You’ve made my best mate himself again, and…I think I owe you everything for that.”
You know there are other parts of his sentence that you should be paying attention to—being the reason Lando feels like himself again, making him happy—but only one thing echoes at the very forefront of your brain. “He’s in love with me?”
Max’s eyes widen almost comically at the realization of what he’s just done. The juxtaposition of the heartfelt conversation you’ve had up until this point with the sudden exaggerated panic in his eyes would’ve cracked you up had you not been stunned by what he’d just let loose. “I really need to learn how to keep my fucking mouth shut.”
“Lando told you he was in love with me?” You press. You’d kick him under the table, but then you’d risk waking up the subject of your conversation. Max just blinks at you, probably trying to figure out a way out of this. “Max.”
“Fuck, fine! Yeah, he told me.” You raise an expectant brow for him to elaborate. “Jesus, did you want a timestamp? He said, I think I’m falling in love with her.”
“He thinks?”
“Well, I don’t know! I’m not a mind reader, am I?” He huffs. Upon seeing your brows furrow, he sighs. “But if I could read his mind, I’d say yes. I’ve known Lando…shit, I dunno, ten years now? And I’ve never seen him like this with anyone else before. You’re special to him.”
“He’s special to me too,” You say softly, stroking a thumb over Lando’s knuckles gently. It should feel strange how much you feel for this boy and how strong those feelings are, but for some reason, it doesn’t. It feels exactly right.
“I feel obligated to give you the usual ‘hurt my best friend and I’ll hurt you’ bit, but I know you won’t. You’ve been a great friend these last couple weeks, and I trust you with him. I trust that you’ll love him as much as he loves you. You do, don’t you?”
You sigh, chuckling softly. “Figured out that one easily too, haven’t you?”
“Please, I’ve known since the day you lot came round ours for the barbeque. And both of you are shit at hiding things, by the way. You’d be terrible spies.”
“Thanks, Max. Seriously.”
“For calling you a crappy liar? You’re welcome, I guess?” He’s only joking, but you know he knows what you mean. Max is a really good guy, a really good friend, both to you and to Lando. “And if he ever hurts you, loop me in. I’ll give him a proper beating for hurting my friend.”
“Oh, I will. Avoid the face though, I kinda like it.”
Max snorts, shaking his head playfully. “Yeah, he’s got a nice mug, that one. Real moneymaker.”
The moneymaker is drooling a little bit with his cheek smushed up against your leg, but you pay it no mind. He still looks good.
He’s actually starting to look like your whole world, all wrapped up into one perfectly flawed human being.
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#lando norris#lando norris x reader#ln4#ln4 x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris fic#lando norris series#lando norris x fem!reader#lando norris imagine#summer's golden haze
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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.
#baldur's gate 3#bg3#astarion bg3#astarion x durge#astarion x reader#baldurs gate astarion#astarion x tav#astarion romance#astarion x you#astarion ancunin#astarion fluff#astarion
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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.
#bg3#baldurs gate 3#baldur's gate 3#BG3#baldur's gate fic#baldur's gate 3 x reader#baldur's gate 3 headcanons#bg3 x tav#bg3 x you#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 smut#bg3 fic#bg3 rolan#bg3 raphael#bg3 halsin#bg3 astarion#bg3 wyll#wyll x reader#astarion x reader#rolan x reader#raphael x reader#halsin x reader#rolan#raphael#halsin#wyll ravengard#astarion#wyll bg3#astarion bg3#halsin bg3
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SHADOW X MOBIAN!READER REQUEST PLEASE
Here’s a funny fanfic idea, Shadow finds out his gf is an active 4chan member so he looks into 4chan to y’know bond with each other more but he finds the interesting content on the sites like When 4chan sent Taylor swift to a deaf kid school, when 4chan tried to send Justin biber to North Korea,Mlp rainbow dash jar,the time they hacked a website so the founder of 4chan would be the number 1 of time 100 etc etc
dark corners
WARNING: None
PAIRING: Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader
NOTE: LMAO. This was such a fun idea to write! Hope you enjoy!
SUMMARY: Shadow, in an attempt to bond with you, stumbles across 4chan.... He just wanted to understand his girlfriend more.
"What is this?" Shadow muttered, his brow furrowing as his eyes scanned the glowing screen in front of him.
He had never considered himself a tech-savvy hedgehog, but recently, he had become curious about something you had mentioned in passing—your involvement in 4chan. At first, it seemed harmless enough, just another strange part of the world he didn't quite understand. But after hearing you talk about it with a strange mix of excitement and amusement, he figured he'd give it a shot.
"I’m sure it’s just a place for people to talk and share ideas," he'd told himself confidently. "It’ll be easy to understand. I’ll know more about her. We’ll bond."
The moment he typed “4chan” into the search bar, he realized that things weren’t going to be as simple as he’d hoped. The first thing he clicked on was a post about Taylor Swift almost being sent to a deaf school. He blinked, rereading it. Did they really do that?
Curiosity gnawed at him. He clicked deeper.
Then there was the one about Justin Bieber almost being sent to North Korea. Shadow's face twisted into a scowl. "What is wrong with these people?"
And then there were the pictures. The ones with Rainbow Dash. In a jar. Shadow leaned forward, squinting at the screen as his mind struggled to process what he was looking at.
His thoughts grew more complicated as he kept scrolling, he found posts about hacking, pranks, and more absurdities. The chaos of it all was overwhelming. He was beginning to feel like he had made a grave mistake, thinking he could understand the appeal of this “4chan.”
"How does this have anything to do with her?" he muttered to himself, trying to make sense of it. "This is pure madness."
Later that evening, you walked into the room, your eyes lighting up when you saw Shadow at the desk.
“Hey, Shadow! What’s up?” you asked, casually flopping onto the couch.
Shadow looked at you, a little uncomfortable. “I… I did what you said. I looked at 4chan. I thought I might understand you better.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And?”
Shadow hesitated, trying to collect his thoughts. “I… I don’t think I understand anything anymore.” He ran a hand through his quills in frustration. “Why would people… Why do they even do these things?”
You blinked, your lips twitching into a smile as you tried to hold back laughter. “Oh, you found that stuff, huh?”
“Found it? I was bombarded by it.” Shadow slumped into the chair, exasperated. “How can you enjoy a place like this?"
You chuckled, sitting up and giving him a playful look. “Yeah, it’s definitely weird. But that’s kind of the fun of it. It’s like... the internet's version of a circus. Weird stuff happens, and we just roll with it.”
Shadow sighed, rubbing his temples. “I feel like I’ve entered an alternate dimension. How is this supposed to help me understand you more?”
You smiled warmly, moving over to sit beside him. "Psh, who cares! Just appreciate it."
Shadow raised an eyebrow. “Appreciating chaos…” He took another look at the screen. “I suppose I did learn that I can’t understand a single thing that happens here. But... I’m still willing to try.”
Your grin softened, and you gently took his hand. "Hey, if you find yourself getting lost, at least you know now why I laugh so hard at this stuff.”
Shadow sighed, looking at the screen again. “If I must… But if I see one more pony....jar.... I swear I’ll…” He trailed off, trying to think of a fitting threat. But he couldn’t help but let out a short laugh. Maybe this was something they could bond over.
#shadow the hedgehog#shadow the hedgehog x reader#shadow the hedgehog fanfic#shadow x reader#sonic#sonic the hedgehog#sonic fanfiction#x reader#ask#fanfic#request#oneshot
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Lone Bunny
Summary: Reader bumps into a man on the street, he was a stranger to her, but she was not a stranger to him.
TW: Stalker!Konig, Oblivious!Reader, eventual smut, murder of a character, NSFW!!, MDNI, Very slowburn, reader is seen as chubby and a virgin, manipulation, loneliness,
Notes: 730 words, i am a first time writer so this could be shit, if this is recieved well ill work on making a prologue or stuff like that, lots of love xxxxx
Prologue
Part One: Scoped
Alone.
That’s all you were. All that you convinced yourself you were. It didn’t help that whenever you brought up your loneliness to family or friends, the response was always ‘Well you need to learn to love yourself until you can love someone else’. How infuriating, how could you love yourself unless someone set an example and showed you how?
You were so touch-starved that the thought of anyone touching you, showing affection, or pleasuring you made you sick to your stomach. You were repulsed by touch, and you'd shy away from a hug, a handshake, or a platonic cheek kiss. You would do anything to get out of situations like that, like an animal gnawing its leg out of a trap.
That’s why you were in the middle of uni, not in a house share, but a single flat, with barely any friends, and repulsed by the thought of touch, ‘just too complicated to love’ you told yourself as you hurried out your flat to your lecture, another failed human interaction with a tinder date, you wore comfy clothes, it wasn’t like anyone was going to look at you. Why would they?
You sipped your coffee as you darted in between the crowds of people, how you hated city life. The noise, the towering buildings, the rudeness, the publicity. All of it was too much for your soft little head. Until your soft little head collided with a very hard chest.
“Pass auf, wo du hin gehst, Hase,”
“Oh my god, I am so sorry, my head is just in the clouds…with class and all.” You rambled for about a minute trying to apologise but you kept running down a rabbit hole. Until he grabbed your shoulder gently. Now this man was massive, his hand was as big as your head, and he towered way over you, and for being 5ft9 that happened on a rare occasion. You blushed a bit at the contact, not receding.
“It doesn’t matter Hase, just watch where you're going, don’t want you getting trampled.” This deep voice behind a hood chuckles a bit as he soothes you before taking his hand off your shoulder and walking off, gone as quickly as he arrived.
You were flustered, your cheeks burning up, but you lied and told yourself it was the cold. It was odd you didn’t flinch when he touched you. You should I mean this was a 6ft10 man who felt like pure muscle when your head collided with his chest. No one had ever made you this flustered, especially not a man you just met, heat pooled between your legs. Surely you weren’t that needy that the first time a stranger gently touched your shoulder, you were soaked, I mean you didn’t even get a glimpse of his face, so you blamed it on your subtle voice kink.
You hurried to your lecture but couldn’t focus once you sat, your hand between your thighs, thick thighs squished together, trying to get any friction without being too obvious, you mentally scolded yourself. Sure, you masturbated, but never really finished, finding it too overstimulating to finish yourself off, your mind scrambling too much for you to continue circling your nub.
After what felt like torture the lecture finished, you managed to push the stranger to the back of your mind. But you were still very wet. You went home for lunch, and all social interaction, or lack of it, drained you, you collapsed on the couch as soon as you got home.
Awoken by your cat licking your hand for food, you got up and fed it until you went down to the lobby to collect post, you walked down the stairs and fumbled with your keys to find the one that opened your post-box, you stopped in your tracks when you saw a single lavender flower sticking out.
Your favourite flower, maybe it was a coincidence, you were subscribed to a lot of grandmaish magazines for hobbies, maybe it was like a gift, but you didn’t want to risk anything, you saw traffickers did stuff like this. You grabbed it with your sleeve and put it in a nearby bin before cautiously opening your postbox, shutting it, and rushing upstairs, locking your door behind you, hoping you were out of view, safe, but little bunny, you were right insight of a scope.
#konig#konig cod#konig x reader#konig x chubby reader#konig!stalker#stalker bf#reading#konig x you#simon ghost riley#konig is pulling a full Joe from YOU
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Starved
Pairing: Low honor Arthur Morgan x female reader one shot
Author's note: This is my first fic, so please give me some grace on any errors present. Just wanted to let everyone know I am also new to Tumblr, so I am trying to learn the tips on how to work it, feel free to give any suggestions. Currently accepting requests! Also, warning on HEAVY, GRAPHIC sexual content!
Summary: You finally make a move on the cowboy, and he doesn't deny you.
You wanted to worship him.
All six-foot-one inches of him.
With your blurred vision, you fell onto your knees right infront of Arthur, finding your place between his thighs.
Arthur’s eyes immediately met yours with shock, “What’r you doin’?”
“Let me,” you begged, reaching for his gun belt.
The cowboy didn’t stop you, his breath hitching for no more than a singular moment before his lips parted, his eyes focusing on your hands near his private region.
Months he had been gone.
Months you had laid in your cot gnawing at your finger nails not knowing if he'd ever return. You weren't scared that he'd run away, Hell, the man wouldn't dare. You were more scared of that five thousand dollar bounty on his head or another unfortunate run in with the O'driscolls.
What if he had died and you never got to confess your feelings to him? That is what perhaps frightened you the most. But now that he was finally here, you would refuse to wait any longer.
Hid behind nothing more than the thin canvas flaps of his tent, you sat between his legs, working at unbuckling his leather gunbelt from his hips. You didn't care if he didn't feel the same, you just wanted to touch him, worship him, you were starved, and for Arthur was just a man.
You worked diligently, setting down his gunbelt gently next to him on his cot and quickly started on the buttons of his jeans until you saw the red fabric of his union suit start to appear. Arthur made quick work of his suspenders as he dropped them to his sides, his calloused hands swiftly unbuttoning his collared shirt.
The gunslinger didn’t talk; he didn’t have to. By the way he was quickly stripping himself of his clothes you knew he wanted you as much as you wanted him. But deep down you had known that, you knew that all those years of playful banter and shy looks across camp always meant something, and the way he undressed himself so heatedly confirmed it for you.
Once Arthur had worked himself from everything but his union suit you pulled yourself onto his lap, gently starting to tear at the buttons of his suit. The cowboy stared deeply into your eyes, his face expressionless as if he was in a matter of shock and confusion, still, he didn't stop you.
You swiftly pulled the top half of his union suit off of him, the sleeves piling at his hips. Your mouth watering as your eyes fell onto his broad, hairy chest. Your right hand gently finding it's place roaming over the soft curls of his torso.
With your free hand you placed it upon his already blood swollen member, only the thin fabric of his union suit seperating your touch. For a moment Arthur's breath hitches as you grab at his cock, leaving him wanting so much more.
Arthur wasn't one of those proper folks you would find in Saint Denis with their pomaded hair and soft hands. Arthur was a man. His fingers were calloused, his chest broad and littered with scars from years of labored work. He was a man that didn't know more than a day worth of comfort; the kind of man that took what he wanted, and you were ready to give your all to him.
You found yourself kissing his neck as your free hand roamed all over his body. He smelled of tobacco and pine, an intoxicating mixture that enveloped your nose as you nibbled on his ear.
The man did not touch you, instead he leaned back on his palms as he moaned at every touch. With every kiss of his neck his cock pulsated in your hand, with every soft caress through his chest hairs he whimpered. His head cocked upward to the top of the tent, his mouth parted as he breathed heavily. Never had you seen the man in such a vulnerable state, just the view of him sent you over the top.
As you sucked on his salty skin you dreamt of him taking you hard and needy against his cot for everyone to hear. But no, you wouldn't let that happen until you were able to worship him the way he deserved.
You knew the cowboy was ready for more when his moans started to become louder. Slowly your kisses dropped from his neck and made the way to his chest as you fell back onto your knees infront of him. His head lowering in the process as he watched your face diligently find its way to the chestnut curls right above his thighs.
Before pulling the rest of his union suit down, you looked up at him. He was a mess, the cowboy was breathing heavily through his nose as his azure eyes were nearly glued to your own. In a swift motion you pulled the rest of his suit downward, the red cloth pooling at his feet. Arthur's hefty cock was beautiful; it was large and swollen with blood as it bobbed up and down inches from your face, begging for you to touch it.
You looked up at him, trying to read any expression on his face but you were met with a furrowed brow. “Open up,” he commanded, taking your loose hair in the back of your head to his palm.
You parted your lips at his command.
He gently pushes your head towards his cock, as you let just the tip enter you. You taste small drops of his salty precum on your tongue, playfully suctioning onto the tip of his cock. Your tongue dancing on his slit, making sure no more than just the first two inches of him enter your puckered mouth.
Oh how you wanted to watch him squirm. Arthur clenched his jaw as he did his best to control himself as you continued to suck on his sensitive tip.
The cowboy finally let out a deep, whiney, whimper as he realized you were not going to stray from his tip without feedback. "Come on girl'" he whined, pulling your hair tighter in his hands as he hiked his hips up toward your mouth.
His breathless command was enough for you to release him from your lips with a loud pop. For moments you sat there with his swollen member bouncing in your face, the look in his aqua eyes begging you to take him back into your mouth. His hips thrusting up at your face as if he was trying to tell you something without speaking.
Him begging for your touch was exactly what you wanted. His breath hitching once more before you finally decided to relieve him from his predicamant. You placed his large, swollen member into your mouth once again. This time, not breaking eye contact as you slip your tight mouth all the way down his shaft, until your chin rested on his testicles.
For seconds you just waited there, his cock shoved all the way down your throat. You wanted him to watch you take it, you wanted him to know the lengths you would go to make him feel good even if it was a challenge for you. You wanted him to know that you were his to use as he pleased, you wanted him to know that you worshipped the ground he walked on. You pushed your head down even harder, until you could feel the tip of his cock hit the very back of your throat, doing your best not to gag.
You only slid back up on his cock when your eyes started to water and snot started to leak from your nose. Only then is when your mouth made work of him. Mouth sliding up and down, over and over again on his shaft. Quickly, but in repetetive, suctioned motion.
Arthur's legs started to shake in pleasure as you sucked at him as hard as you could. Your tongue massaging his shaft as your head bobbed up and down, your saliva coating every inch of his hard cock, some even dripping down to the inside of his thighs.
You knew Arthur wasn't a gentleman, so it came to no surprise when when the hands that were holding up your hair were now pushing your head deeper onto his cock. Most times you would find actions like this displeasing, but it was Arthur, and you would do about anything to make him feel good.
You let him take control of your mouth as he pushed your head up and down onto him, over and over. Your eyes started to water even more everytime the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, but you wanted this. You revelled in his pleasure.
"That's right girl, take it," he commanded as he pushed your head even deeper onto his cock, your soft hair balled up into his palm.
His eyes were fiercly glued to you and you did your best to keep the eye contact as you bobbed up and down. "S' beautiful," he huffed as you finally pulled your head back, a small trail of saliva connecting your lips to the tip of his cock.
You wanted to worship the man, you wanted to take him into your mouth over and over again. But you needed just a few seconds to collect yourself, to give your jaw just a quick moment of peace before preceeding.
Arthur eyes widened in fear as he worried that he had hurt you, gently placing his free hand on your cheek, wiping away a tear. "Did I hurt you-."
But just as quick as you pulled your mouth off of him, you had placed both your hands on his shaft, positioning the rest of his length back inside your mouth. That move alone answered his question.
Your hands made quick work as you pumped him into your mouth over and over, the cowboy seemed to like this as he readjusted himself on the cot multiple times, not being able to keep still. His teeth fiercely biting his bottom limp as he whimpered.
"Good girl," he grunted as you pumped him again, your lips suctioning to his shaft.
You could tell the gunslinger was close to finishing when his hand started to pull tightly on your hair, little whimpers starting to escape his mouth more frequently.
Seconds later he pulled himself out of you, his hand finding his way to his saliva coated cock as he started to finish on the ground next to you.
That’s not what you wanted.
You wanted him to finish inside you. You wanted to taste his salty cum inside your mouth, you wanted to see the look on his face when you swallowed it for him. You wanted him to know the length you would go for him.
So you forcefully pulled his hands away, placing your lips back onto his member and pushing your mouth deep onto his cock in a repetitive motion. Immeditaly Arthur came, the bitter taste of him erupting in the back of your throat.
Arthur's eyes rolled into the back of his head as you pulled that manuever, he grunted in pleasure as he watched you continue to suck him dry. You waited a handful of seconds after he finished to let him out of your mouth as you pulled your face to his ear, largely gulping so he could hear his cum drop down your throat.
Arthur let out a loud breath as he realized what you had just done. His eyes widening curiously at you.
You didn't kiss him goodbye, you didn't confess your feelings to him either. You took your sleeves, wiping the mess of saliva and tears off of your face as you stared at him with a mischievous grin.
Arthur was stunned as he watched you collect yourself, his knees cocked in opposite directions as his union suit still piled at his ankles. His palms placed behind him as he propped himself up, still breathing heavily in pleasure.
You didn't say a word before quietly lifting up his tent flaps to escape to your own, knowing by his dumbfounded expression that you had left him wanting more.
#arthur morgan#arthur morgan smut#red dead redemption 2#red dead fanfiction#arthur morgan fanfiction#smut#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x female reader
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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.
#ᯓ★ 𝓜𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌#Osamu Miya x Reader#osamu miya angst#miya osamu angst#haikyuu osamu miya#haikyuu miya osamu#miya osamu x reader#osamu miya#haikyuu osamu#miya osamu#osamu x reader#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x female!reader#haikyuu x reader angst#haikyuu x reader fluff#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x gender neutral reader#haikyuu one shot#haikyuu#atsumu miya#haikyuu angst
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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.
#[yunsbunnie]#[yunsbunnie.enha]#park jongseong#park jongseong smut#jay park smut#enhypen jay smut#enhypen#enhypen smut#jay smut#enha smut#kpop smut#jay park#enha jay smut#enha jay#enhypen park jongseong#enhypen park jongseong smut#enhypen scenarios#enhype smut scenarios#jay park scenarios#park jongseong scenarios
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Idk if you take requests, but I am ✨obsessed✨ with davey jones Ghost and was wondering if you have more thoughts about him? Esp if you have Ghoap or Ghoap/Reader thoughts 🙏👀
well, i didn’t have any thoughts until now! i mean. yeah. imagine the ten year curse cycle inflicted on both of them. lightly edited.
cw: blood/violence, non-consensual touch, implied but not depicted eventual noncon
they don't think much about the drawbacks of immortality or their land-based limitations. they don't consider the madness that gnaws at the edges of their minds or the insatiable hunger that regular slaughter can't satisfy. how the blood sours in their mouths after years of excess.
not soap, with his appetite for violent spectacle, or ghost, who savors it like a gourmand. no. they careen through decades, gleefully unmoored from consequence.
then they see you.
the ship is anchored in the bay of your coastal town, rocking gently in the waves despite the atmosphere. lanterns swing in the breeze, casting light across the deck as the sun sets. the crew drinks and gambles away the hours until the decade burns out when their leaders can, at last, join them on land, chomping at the bit for their share of blood and gold.
a few shots ring out as they pick off the fools attempting to escape by boat. on shore, a harried militia fumbles to barricade the town, a pitiful display that amuses soap to no end.
he paces, barking laughter, the row of spines down the center of his skull rippling with the sound. ghost leans against the mast, idly loading his pistol. he doesn't join in on the festivities, though soap knows he's just as eager for the bloodletting to begin. it's what sustains them best, after all—carnage.
"you'd think they'd learn," soap clicks his tongue, watching through a spyglass as another group tries to skirt past their ship in a dinghy, wailing as they slump one by one. his cloudy eye rolls loose in its socket as he pans toward shore, looking for the tortured faces of their loved ones and—
he freezes.
"steamin' jesus."
"what?" ghost doesn't bother looking up.
soap lowers the glass just enough to flash him a grin, a different sort of hunger glinting in his eyes. "you've got to see this." he tosses the scope.
ghost catches it with a bored grunt. he expects the same old scene: villagers sobbing, soldiers struggling, someone drowning themselves in the shallows. instead, he finds you.
stockings and shoes stripped off, skirts gathered high to keep them dry, showing your bare legs braced in the surf. you stand alone, a fair distance from the panicked men crowding at the docks. one hand flat over your eyes, shading them, as you strain to get a better look at your town's doom. pretty mouth curved into a worried frown.
"what do ye think she's doin'?"
"don't know." ghost adjusts the focus, trailing the glass down to your bare, breakable ankles, the way the water curls around them, before dragging his gaze back up. "doesn't matter."
maybe you're overly confident in your soldiers. maybe there's nowhere to go inland, no path that doesn't end with their blades at your back or another tide. or maybe it's much simpler than that—maybe you have a morbid curiosity, something only they can sate.
you look soft. smooth. utterly defenseless, a lamb right before its throat is slit. fearless or stupid. ghost hasn't decided yet.
behind him, soap mutters a low curse, leaning over his shoulder like a child begging for another turn. "she's perfect." he murmurs, his tongue flicking over his sharpened, brine and rust-colored teeth.
ghost lowers the spyglass, gripping it tight.
"think she'll run if we call out?" soap asks, already moving toward the longboats. "might be fun to chase her down."
"no."
soap stops mid-stride, turning with a hollow-eyed grin. "what d'ye mean, no?"
ghost doesn't answer immediately. his gaze drifts back to the shore, to you, alone in the surf, transfixed by the evil before you. oblivious to what you've done. to what they are. the sort of personal attention you've invited.
he knows in the marrow of his bones. the way hunger knows the taste of meat.
"no," he repeats, jaw clenching, reaching down to adjust himself. "you're gettin' ahead of yourself. we've got 'ours, still."
soap huffs, bleeding anticipation and impatience. "what if she runs for it? we cannae—"
ghost cuts him off, taking a single step to hook his good hand around the back of soap's neck. he drags the other man in close, pushing the cold metal of the spyglass's eyepiece into the soft spot under soap's chin.
"if she runs, then we catch 'er. bring 'er aboard. simple as that."
soap stares for a moment, the muscles in his jaw working like he wants to argue. wisely, he does not. "fine." he concedes, though he looks to the longboats again. "we wait."
"good lad. now," ghost squeezes soap's neck, fingers pressing flesh and carapace, and then he pushes, guiding the man to his knees. then he lifts the spyglass again, fitting it snugly against his socket. you're out of the water now, seated, hurriedly rolling your stockings up. he wets his cracked lips at the brief flash of the underside of a thigh. you really think no one's watching. "we've plenty of time to warm up."
they leave the pillaging and razing to their men, the chaos in the town spreading behind them like fire on dry grass. smoke rises in thick, black columns, and the screams of the dying and the terrorized carry across the streets. they don't care for riches or ruin, not tonight. they're hunting for you.
every house and hovel is torn apart by their hands, windows shattered, doors broken off their hinges. soap, wild-eyed and feral, tears through the streets like a storm, leaving splinters and wreckage in his wake. ghost grows just as frenzied as him as the hours march toward dawn.
but, as it turns out, you truly did believe in the uniformed men of your town. your first mistake. your second was that you did not run far enough.
they find you.
tucked into a cramped hiding space of what must be your home, they pry you out like a pearl from an oyster. it's soap who finds you, his grin splitting wide as he hauls you up, your face tear-streaked, a laugh rattling out when you lift your chin.
"better up close," soap says, pressing his nose to your temple and inhaling deeply. he spins you to face ghost, his damp cheek pressing to yours. sea salt mingling with the scent of sweat. desperation. "smells good enough to eat."
ghost draws a line from the curve of your cheek down to the hollow of your neck, fitting his thumb to the divot of your throat. how odd it is to feel a heartbeat he does not want to immediately stop.
"then let's have a taste 'ere," he murmurs, voice rough as your pulse kicks up. "then a feast on board."
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