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cherienymphe · 1 year ago

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Teenage Dirtbag IV (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

🎄 ༺𝓜𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂༻༺𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼༻🎄

“Oh! Well, aren’t those pretty?”

Your mother’s voice pulled your attention away from the flowers in front of you, throwing her a small smile as she neared you to admire them. You gave her the card when she eyed it, and you watched her smile grow, a fond chuckle escaping her.

“That’s sweet,” she praised. “Is Rafe coming by later?”

It seemed like such a silly question because you and Rafe saw each other almost every day, and your mother knew it.

“Yeah,” you sighed, sitting at the island and fingering a red petal. “He’s doing something for Ward, but he’s coming straight over when he’s done.”

She hummed, and you heard her fussing around in the drawers looking for something. Your gaze was glued to a rose, noting that Rafe got you red this time—your favorite—and you swallowed. It was always the same. Rafe would hurt you so bad that he felt compelled to make it up to you, the flowers would be delivered to your doorstep, your parents would gush, and you’d forgive him with a smile…and then the cycle would repeat.

You plucked a petal, rolling and squashing it between your fingers.

“It’s about time he starts getting prepped on all the family business, isn’t it?”

You glanced up as she took out a pan, her gaze briefly meeting yours.

“Yeah, I guess so. Ward has been asking him to do more things lately, and I know it’s usually work related, so…” you shrugged. “Only a matter of time.”

She seemed satisfied with that answer.

“Good,” she firmly said with a nod. “He can’t provide for you on daddy’s money forever.”

She chuckled to herself, but you could only swallow down bile.

“Rafe is upstanding and all of those things we want for you, but he needs to learn to make money on his own. We’ll never give him our blessing otherwise.”

Again, you said nothing, only looking at the stains on your fingers. Your entire volatile future being mapped out for you should’ve scared you beyond reason, and it sometimes it did, but in this moment, you only felt a numbness that was all too familiar. It all just felt so inevitable, so you didn’t see any sense in fighting it. With a sigh, you stood.

“I’m going to take these up to my room.”

“Put them on the table by your window, so they can get good sunlight,” she threw over her shoulder.

After doing what your mother advised, you turned to your mirror, intently staring at the face in the reflection. The fading bruise on your cheek was nowhere to be found under your makeup, and you were relieved that the same could be said for your neck. A deep inhale had your stomach aching only a tad, and you told yourself that Epsom salt baths could only do so much.

You rolled your eyes, lips pursing at the thought of JJ Maybank.

Naturally, you knew that this wasn’t really his fault. If Rafe were a normal boyfriend, you wouldn’t be covering up bruises with makeup and long-sleeved shirts in the house you’d rather not wear. You knew that Rafe didn’t actually need a reason and that no one could push him to do anything he didn’t want to do. Rafe was never the kind of guy to do anything he didn’t want to do. However, with all of that being said…

You really didn’t like JJ Maybank.

Some part of you knew that Rafe must have provoked him. You knew your boyfriend well, so you knew that without a doubt, but none of that changed the fact that you still had ugly discoloration from where Rafe had pushed you into his dresser. None of that changed the fact that JJ was the catalyst. Yeah, you probably shouldn’t have talked to him anyway, but you’d only been trying to be nice.

Trying to do the right thing.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the doorbell, and knowing that Rafe never rang it, you didn’t give it much thought. At least until you heard your mother calling your name moments later, and you were forced to descend the stairs in confusion. That confusion wasn’t eased in the slightest when you came face to face with Sarah.

She looked sheepish while your mother only smiled.

“Sarah’s here for you. I offered her something to eat, but she’s insistent that she isn’t staying long,” your mother said, briefly touching the other girl’s arm. “You tell Rose to call me. I have a bone to pick with her.”

They both chuckled—obvious that your mother was teasing—and you watched her disappear into the kitchen before resting your gaze on the blonde before you.

“I’m going to get something to eat at The Wreck. You want to come with me?”

You swallowed a sigh, glancing away and folding your arms over your chest. You didn’t know where this desire for a budding friendship came from, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. You and Sarah had only ever been friendly, and considering the company she kept, you’d had no desire for anything more. Being friends with Sarah just felt like a recipe for disaster.

“Sarah…”

She spoke up before you could, huffing and stepping towards you.

“I think Rafe treats you like shit,” she admitted, making sure her voice didn’t carry. “I know you love him and see something in him the rest of us don’t, but everything about you just seems wrapped up in him and…he seems very happy to keep things that way.”

You pressed your lips together, eyeing her.

“I don’t like it, and considering I don’t have much say, I figure the best I can do is be your friend. It’ll just make me feel better to know you have someone other than Rafe.”

Her lips turned up as she said his name, crossing her own arms over her chest.

“I’ve thought this for a while, by the way, and I just…” she shifted her feet, shrugging. “I don’t know. I just can’t take it anymore.”

With a sigh, you dropped your arms, and you knew that Sarah could tell what you were going to say.

“Come on! It’s lunch at The Wreck. We won’t be going all the way to Charlotte—Rafe will know where you are. He’s caught up with our dad, anyway, and they’re probably not going to be done until this evening,” she practically pleaded.

It was tempting, you had to admit, even if it did make you feel a little pathetic.

“I don’t know. I’d have to call Rafe and-.”

“You’d have to call Rafe, are you serious?” she scoffed before reaching for her own phone, and you reached for her. “I’m calling him.”

Your eyes widened.

“Sarah…”

Rafe’s tone could be heard even through the phone when he answered, and you felt your heart race.

“I wanna go to lunch with your girlfriend, and since you’re so uptight about knowing where she is at all times and who she’s with…”

The other girl trailed off as he spoke.

“Rafe, you’re stuck with dad for most of the day! I want to go eat, and I want her to come with me… Yes, just me,” she threw you a look at that to which you only looked away. “God, you’re so crazy, you literally treat her like a damn puppy.”

She shoved the phone at you, and understanding what was happening, you sighed.

“Hey,” you softly said once her phone was to your ear. “She just showed up here, Rafe and…”

“She said it’s going to be the two of you.”

You could tell by his tone that he wasn’t thrilled, right now, but you also knew it wasn’t just from Sarah and her antics. Rafe felt cornered. It wouldn’t look good for him to forbid you from going, and if he convinced you to give Sarah some piss poor excuse, she’d likely just ignore it. There wasn’t much you and Rafe agreed on, but you did admit that Sarah Cameron often got her way.

You heard Rafe mutter under his breath, and you didn’t doubt he was cursing Sarah’s name.

“I don’t see why she’s hellbent on butting into your life all of a sudden…”

His tone didn’t make you enthusiastic, and when your eyes met Sarah’s, they looked hopeful. You didn’t really understand why Sarah was taking so much interest in befriending you. You heard her reasoning, of course, but this was new territory, and you didn’t know how to handle it. However, you decided that it didn’t matter. Your boyfriend’s sister wanted to have lunch with you, and if it would satisfy her then so be it.

Pulling your lip between your teeth, you told Rafe something you knew he’d like to hear.

“While I have you, I wanted to thank you for the flowers.”

You heard him exhale, and you didn’t need to be with him to know the look on his face. It was the look he often wore whenever he brought you flowers—a mix of smugness and triumph with that small smirk dancing along his lips. Rafe cared about being seen as the perfect boyfriend, but he also cared about your complicity just as much. If he could placate you after a really bad fight, then he could prevent the rare backlash.

The last time you’d threatened to leave Rafe after one of the worser fights was half a year ago. The bouquet he’d given you then hadn’t meant all that much to you when you threw them on the floor. It hadn’t ended the way you wanted to but instead in tears and Rafe convincing you that you were just upset and needed to cool down. He liked to avoid that if he could.

“I wasn’t expecting red, and I was just really happy to see that. It made me feel a lot better,” you told him.

Rafe was silent for a few moments before sighing, albeit with an annoyed lilt. Your gaze met Sarah’s again just as he spoke.

“Just for a little bit. Not too long because I could finish up early with my dad, so…”

“No, yeah, we won’t be long,” you assured him. “It’s just going to be me and Sarah.”

“Yeah, that’s what she said. Let’s hope it stays that way,” he told you.

His tone was clipped, and although he didn’t say it, you knew that there was a silent addition to that statement.

For your sake.

With a nod and a soft goodbye, you gave Sarah her phone back. Her face was expectant, and when you told her you needed to get your jacket, she beamed.

Sarah had a pout on her face as she played with one of her fries, shaking her head.

“I just don’t get it,” she mumbled. “What do you see in him?”

The drive to The Wreck was far from long and had mostly been filled with awkward small talk. You couldn’t recall a time you’d ever been alone with Sarah for this long, let alone long enough to have several conversations. It was such an odd thought considering you’d been dating Rafe for two years. The more the minutes went by though, the easier the conversation seemed to flow.

However, you now found yourself in the middle of lunch and on a topic you felt was inevitable, to be honest.

Sarah’s gaze was questioning, and you struggled to come up with an acceptable answer. You couldn’t very well tell her that her brother was actually an abusive rapist who terrified you beyond belief. You couldn’t tell her that he’d threatened to kill you on several occasions. It wasn’t possible to tell her that, in truth, you saw nothing worthwhile in Rafe, and you’d merely accepted your future with him.

Instead, you managed to think back to the very beginning of your relationship when you actually loved him.

“He knows what he wants, and I like that…”

It was a trait you’d admired in him once, feeling flattered by how boldly he’d asked you out. Those were the days when you looked forward to seeing Rafe and whatever gift he had for you and whatever date he had planned. That was a time when you’d literally fall asleep on the phone with him, and these days you would be relieved if you could go several hours without even hearing his voice.

“He’s also very generous, and he looks out for me, and he loves being around me. He’s just…so happy when we’re together.”

Everything that came out of your mouth was no longer applicable to your boyfriend, but at one point in time it had been. Without realizing it, your face fell, and you picked at your food. Sarah had a thoughtful look on her face as she mulled over your words before taking a sip of her lemonade.

“Looks out for you,” she repeated. “I guess that’s one way of putting it.”

You threw her a look, and she merely shrugged, throwing her hands up.

“I’m just saying! He treats you like he doesn’t want anybody to come near you,” she said, disgusted. “His own sister wants to hang out with you, and you needed to call him for that? That doesn’t sound crazy to you?”

The frown on her face was deep, and you only shrugged.

“You know what he’s like Sarah. You know how…paranoid he can get.”

“Yeah, paranoid that you might actually prefer being in someone else’s company instead,” she scoffed.

You merely sent her a small smile, thinking that she had no idea of the half of it. Before the conversation could continue, two familiar faces walked into the restaurant, and you felt your heart sink. Sarah seemed excited to see her friends, of course, while you, on the other hand, only had an aching desire to leave.

When your eyes met a slowly increasingly familiar blue pair, you couldn’t stop your frown.

You glanced away, and when Pope greeted you, you only sent him a smile in return. Telling yourself that you had the worst luck, you leaned over to reach for your purse. Sarah was talking to the two of them, but when she heard the sound of your keys, the conversation paused.

“I think I should go,” you answered the silent question on her face.

You hated the way it fell.

“We haven’t even been here an hour. Do…?” she trailed off glancing at Pope and JJ. “I know that it’s supposed to be just the two of us, but Rafe won’t know.”

“Sarah,” your tone said it all, and she stood up with you when you went to pay for your food.

“Stay,” she practically begged. “Rafe isn’t here to be his normal asshole self, and you know I won’t tell.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” you mumbled, craning your neck for either Mr. or Mrs. Carrera.

By the sound of her sigh, you had a feeling she’d witnessed JJ’s conversation with Rafe that day in their house.

“JJ didn’t mean much by that. He was just stooping to Rafe’s level, wanted to piss him off.”

“Well, you can tell him it worked,” you said, throwing her a tight smile.

Her brows drew together, and she ran her eyes over you, concerned.

“What, was Rafe mad at you for that?”

“What do you think, Sarah?” you slowly wondered, fully facing her.

You could see on her face that she hadn’t considered that possibility, and her shoulders sagged.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I’m sure JJ wouldn’t have said anything if he’d known it was going to come back on you. I’ll talk to him, just please stay.”

You touched your forehead, glancing over her shoulder and quickly looking away when your eyes met the man in question’s.

“They’re your friends, not mine. I really should go…”

She perked up.

“Well, they don’t have to just be my friends-.”

“No, Sarah. I can’t be friends with them-.”

“Why, because of Rafe?” she incredulously wondered. “Do you hear how crazy that sounds?”

You ignored her when the familiar woman came from the back, quickly paying for your meals. When you were done, you only gave Sarah an even look, grabbing your purse.

“You know what your brother is like. Pope can take you home, right?”

You could see on her face that she wanted to argue this some more, a deep frown on her face, but you witnessed the decision to save it for another time. You weren’t stupid enough to think she was going to let this go. She eyed you.

“We’re probably going to John B.’s later, so yeah. I can leave with them.”

Preferring to ignore her mood, you smiled and thanked her for the invite. You said goodbye to Pope and JJ on your way out, thinking of just how shitty your luck was. You’d never put it past Rafe to drop in on you, and you didn’t want to imagine how things would be if he witnessed you having lunch with anyone other than Sarah…but especially Pope and JJ. You were just at your car when you heard hurried footsteps behind you, and you tensed at the sound of your name.

Unfortunately, the face matched the voice when you turned around.

JJ wasn’t close to you, but he was close enough to where you leaned against your car in an effort to put space between you. If he noticed, he said nothing, and you watched him run his hand through his blond locks. You didn’t know what he wanted and considering the last result of a conversation with him, you warily eyed him.

“Look, Sarah told me that Rafe was mad at you about what I said,” he sounded apologetic. “I didn’t know that.”

“Why? You knew it would piss him off. That’s why you said it.”

He frowned, glancing away.

“Yeah, but I didn’t think…”

“At the very best you knew it would cause conflict between us. Again…that’s why you said it,” you told him.

JJ stared at you, and you watched him blink, tilting his head.

“Do you ever wonder why you have a boyfriend who loses his shit anytime you even so much as look at another man?”

You scoffed.

“Don’t try to turn this around-!”

“I mean, it’s the truth. You felt bad, you apologized, and call me crazy, but I don’t think that’s something he should get mad at you for,” he casually said with a shrug.

“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t get paid to think.”

You watched his brows raise in shock at your words, a budding smile on his lips. JJ crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing you from head to toe, and you felt something twist in your gut at his perusal.

“Are you always this feisty or is that privilege just reserved for me?”

Rolling your eyes, you turned to open your door when he spoke again.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright? I mean that…”

You hesitated, your gaze focused on your window. You stared at his reflection in it.

“I won’t say anything next time. Ever again, actually.”

With a resigned sigh, you accepted his apology, opening your door.

“There won’t be a next time,” you told him, glancing at him as you slid inside. “We’re not friends, JJ, and we’ll never be. Stop talking to me, I mean it.”

Your words held conviction, but you felt like JJ didn’t take them seriously. He only eyed you, slowly nodding as you closed your door. Resisting the urge to glance at him again, you drove off, only feeling relief the closer you got to your house.

It was the middle of the night when you found yourself in the Camerons’ kitchen, getting something to drink because sleep was evading you. You knew that you couldn’t be gone for long, no telling when Rafe would notice the lack of body heat next to him. The rest of the house was asleep, and Sarah was with John B.

…and so that was why you were startled by the front door opening.

You could tell they were trying to be quiet, but hushed tones and the shuffle of feet was loud to anyone who was awake—you. Blinking, and filled with a mix of curiosity and concern, you made your way to the kitchen entrance. It was dark, but not dark enough to make the three figures hard to make out. When you turned on the light, Sarah actually jumped in shock.

You could tell that she hadn’t expected anyone to be up, but even as she approached you, it wasn’t her nor John B. you were focused on. The blond with them looked almost unrecognizable to you, and you sharply inhaled at the sight of him. He was barely able to stand—no matter how much he tried to—and you could only pull your eyes away when Sarah whispered your name.

“I’m just here to use our first aid kit,” she told you, trying to explain. “John B. doesn’t have shit at his house, and Kie’s parents are so anal about JJ—any of her friends besides me, really.”

Once you gathered your thoughts, you blinked at her, shaking your head.

“It’s your house, Sarah. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you assured her.

“I know, but I’d just really rather not wake anyone up…and it’s also not something I feel like explaining to anyone.”

She glanced over her shoulder, giving John B. a nod, and you watched him pull JJ towards the downstairs guest bathroom. Your lips parted, and you looked at Sarah again.

“Is he going to be okay?”

Sarah pressed her lips together, and when she rolled her eyes, you could see the irritation and anger on her features.

“He always is,” she snidely replied.

At your concerned and questioning look, her face fell some.

“It’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before,” she finally admitted. “His dad…”

Sarah trailed off with a shrug, and you swallowed.

“Oh,” was all you said, your heart sinking. “I’d heard things, but…I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“I just don’t get why he doesn’t go live with John B. or something,” she mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. “Just because Luke is family…”

She sneered the man’s name, and you felt your frown deepen.

“It’s probably not that simple.”

At the look she gave you, you hurried to continue.

“I just mean it’s probably not that black and white for JJ. No one likes staying anywhere that’s bad for them, but maybe there’s a sense of loyalty he can’t shake yet,” you explained. “If he left his house for good, he just might end up feeling guilty.”

Sarah thought that over, eyeing you in the process.

“Maybe. That doesn’t make it any easier to witness this time and time again,” she sighed.

You didn’t say anything to that, unsure of what to say. When she left to join John B. in assisting their friend, you weren’t keen on retreating to Rafe’s bedroom just yet. You weren’t some professional psychologist, but you didn’t need to be to know why the sight of JJ and the confirmation of his volatile home life affected you so much.

The sight of his bloody and bruised face was unfortunately reminiscent for you.

Your feet made the decision for you, grabbing another glass of water before rummaging in your purse for some painkillers. Sarah was in the hall when you walked around the corner, and she straightened at the sight of you. The bathroom door was cracked, but John B.’s voice carried as he talked to JJ.

“Here, give him these.”

She took the pills and water with a small smile, thanking you. The moment was interrupted by JJ’s tone.

“I can stand just fine,” he sighed. “Just give me a minute…”

John B.’s protest was clear, but you surmised that JJ waved him off, getting his way when the door swung open. The brunette was briefly thrown by the sight of you before acknowledging you, making his way outside. The sound of your name in the air got JJ’s attention, and you wondered just how out of it he’d been to only just now realize you were up.

“Here. Y/N brought these for you,” Sarah told him, voice stern as she demanded he take them.

Getting the hint that he wanted a moment to himself, Sarah took a step back.

“Make sure he takes those,” she told you before going to join her boyfriend.

Truthfully, Rafe was the last thing on your mind as you looked at JJ. Now that his face was clean, he didn’t look as bad, but the bruising and cut on his lip still made you frown. You and he were so far from friends, so standing in the hallway while he leaned one hand on the sink started to feel awkward. You were just about to remind him of the pills and leave when he spoke.

“It’s the middle of the night.”

The observation wasn’t the most astute, and you frowned in confusion. When he swung his head to face you, straightening with difficulty, you didn’t miss the way his blue eyes ran along your face.

“It’s the middle of the night,” he repeated. “…and your face is caked in makeup. Is that one of Rafe’s conditions? Remain perfect at all times?”

You pressed your lips together as he popped the painkillers, swallowing them down with the entire glass of water. You couldn’t very well tell him that you’d spent fifteen minutes covering the bruises on your cheek and neck before coming down on the off chance that you ran into a Cameron that wasn’t Rafe.

“I forgot to wash my face,” was your simple answer.

Your tone was light, unconvincing, and you could tell that JJ didn’t believe you. You didn’t know how, but something about the glint in his eye told you so.

“I’m sorry,” you finally said. “About your dad.”

The blond moved to lean against the doorjamb, staring at you.

“Don’t be. I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t be,” you argued.

“Yeah, well, we’re both used to a lot of things we shouldn’t be,” he said, making you bristle. “I should’ve known better. After all…I know what he’s like.”

You didn’t appreciate having your own words thrown back in your face, doubly so because JJ didn’t realize just how much it messed with you. It was funny. When you told him that about Rafe, it made sense to you. That was how you maneuvered around Rafe and so you just wanted JJ to learn to maneuver around him the same way if he wanted to avoid his temper.

Now, however, hearing him repeat that about his own father just made you feel…nauseated.

“That’s not an excuse-.”

“Isn’t it?” JJ wondered, moving closer.

He held your gaze, and the look in his eyes had you biting the inside of your cheek. You couldn’t stop your frown, nostrils flaring at the words he silently threw at you. He didn’t say them, but he didn’t need to.

“That’s different,” you argued.

JJ frowned, head tilted in confusion.

“How so? My dad’s an asshole, Rafe’s an asshole,” he drawled. “Now, Rafe may not be a physically abusive asshole, but walking on tippy toes around him just to navigate his shitty personality isn’t exactly healthy.”

You stumbled back when JJ took another step towards you, lips parting when he cut you off.

“You can’t even have lunch with his sister without the fear of some guy that isn’t Rafe crashing the date…because you know he would just fly off the handle.”

You swallowed down your anger and annoyance at how right he was, glancing away with a huff.

“You don’t know anything about my relationship.”

“I know enough,” he fired back with a smirk.

When your back grazed the wall, it was then that you realized just how close he was. The bruising on his face looked so much scarier this close, and your eyes traced the blood on his lip. Your heartbeat was uneven at his close proximity, and you pressed yourself further into the wall. JJ’s eyes flitted between your own, and when you swallowed, they zeroed in on the action, gaze lingering on your throat.

“I know that if I kissed you, right now…” you sharply inhaled at that. “You wouldn’t tell Rafe…and not because you don’t want to hurt him…”

You slapped his hand way when it reached for your chin.

“…but because you’re fucking terrified of him.”

You furiously blinked, struggling to respond to that.

“You’re an asshole,” was all you could muster up with a frown, voice trembling.

JJ only softly chuckled to himself, nodding.

“Assholes are your type, so that doesn’t sting the same coming from you.”

Pushing your way out from in between him and the wall, you stomped away. You refused to look at him when he thanked you for the drugs, fighting to ignore the goosebumps along your arms underneath Rafe’s shirt.

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the-s1lly-corner · 5 months ago

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Slashers x reader who is clumsy and tends to get hurt

feels like its been a hot minute since ive done a non-solo post soooooo smirks... i promise requests are still open i just havent been getting much of anything and been on an alphabet prompt kick SOBS characters: jason, brahms, bubba, thomas notes: reader is gn cws: injury stuff but far more tame than what youd see in the sources

JASON

hes keeping his eyes glued onto you like a hawk, the second he realizes how often you drop things or fall over hes going to always keep himself nearby

not that he doesnt already do that given the cabin you stay in together is a little... run down... prompts him to start fixing it where he can so its safer for you

will step in to carry heavier stuff before you even get the chance to try to pick it up, tries not to make a big deal of it so he doesnt hurt your feelings

crushed when you eventually get hurt despite his efforts... so so gentle when hes wrapping bandages around you

sternly signs at you to be careful next time, and to come to him if you need help

BRAHMS

definitely the type to kick the table after you stub your toe on it- actually i can see him throwing the whole thing away

he thinks your clumsiness is a little endearing... pathetic, but nonetheless endearing

also makes him feel like you need him so you dont end up getting hurt or worse, and hes not afraid to show that he thinks of it like that- proud that he gets to protect you too

tries to smoothly take over a task if he feels the risk of you getting hurt is a little too high for his liking, not very.. not obvious about it though

despite the aforementioned pride he does get very worried when youre handling knives or hanging around stairs- he gets antsy, actually... does not like when you go out to work on the grounds outside because its harder to keep an eye on you

BUBBA

frets over you like youve just cracked your skull open, when in reality youve just sliced yourself while cutting something up

gently takes your hands in his to look over the wound, will stress out if theres any bleeding- even some tiny pinpricks is enough to make him lose it

not that hes afraid of blood of course, but your blood is supposed to stay inside you!

uses more than the needed amount of bandages for you, you may need to speak up and get him to calm down a bit... also he may or may not forget to actually clean the wound

exudes the energy of a nervous chihuahua while watching you work with something sharp, will take over the task for you

THOMAS

you may have to teach him how to actually clean and care for wounds outside of keeping them wrapped- he doesnt mean to forget its just he was never really taught

gives you enough space to do what you want and/or need to do but hes keeping an eye on you from the side to make sure everything is going smoothly

doesnt mess with shelves or stairs, though, if youre carrying something down the stairs hes taking what you have and doing it himself... or hes going to grab what you need from the shelves so it doesnt fall on you

the very last thing he wants is for you to feel small or helpless, so outside of that he gives you free range to do most of anything how you want and at your own pace

will carry you if you ever get a leg injury

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pinkaditty · 26 days ago

Note

HI i love your works sm ,,, and i really love the way you write it just brings out soemtnhign in me ,,, but hear me out on leo kurosagi angst where leo keeps insulting pc and pc just took it well until he said something sensitive (maybe sth ab the way she eats? or sth abt her face etc etc) and hurt pc's feelings and he didnt feel bad when pc cried , but when he saw pc going over to sho and sho giving him dirty looks he feels remorseful but he didnt want his pride to crack so he blamed pc , and then when pc started avouding him he started mocking her but in the inside it hurt him and his pride slightly , afterwards he found out he actually has genuine feelings for pc but denies it , until he found out pc is now his bff's gf WOW i NEED him humbled 🤗🤗🤗

Pavlov's Ghoul (Leo Kurosagi x Reader x Sho Haizono; Tokyo Debunker)

hey anon this existing is UR FAULT. (ilysm ty 4 the idea) and i hope u don't mind that I added my own little twist 2 it... hehe! even if u didn't expect me 2 write anything u can't drop a fresh, juicy steak of an idea like this and expect me not 2 salivate and tear it 2 shreds via writing it out.

OMG also TYYYYYYY IM SOSO GLAD U LIKE MY WRITING YIPPEE!!!!!!!!! i hope this is up 2 ur standards anon

a/n: why does this exist? blame anon and my inner need 4 a bitchy boy 2 be humbled amen! also i feel like i've completed my tokyo debunker rite of passage... ive finally written leo angst... nirvana at last.

summary: leo gets fuckin pavloved LMAO! considered calling this "ecstasy" or something bc of the pill line but ohh my god "pavlov's ghoul" hit too hard i fear.

cw: this isn't dark imo but be warned as this is just a little bit crazy, the most insane kind of yearning ive ever written maybe. implied sexual encounters, multiple sexual innuendos, and some odd behavior. MINORS DNI AS PER USUALLLLLL!

Looking for Part 2? Click here!

Sho's kind, reasonably so. Leo knows this. Sho also has an infinite store of deeply repressed anger. Leo also knows this. It's the reason he's in Vagastrom, after all. A deep, roiling anger that seems to eat at him if he doesn't have an appropriate outlet to balance his mood. That's why he's such a good cook, why he's so good at fighting, why he's got an excellent sense of balance and rides his bike smoother than anyone else he knew. He's using these things as outlets for his anger. It's not Leo's fault that the occasional outing to trick and deceive another sexually repressed rich old man for money is something else Sho seems to derive stress relief from. And it's not Leo's fault that Sho continues to stick around with him after those jobs are done. It's never been a problem for either of them, as far as he can tell. At least, there were no problems until Little Miss Inspector showed up.

Suddenly, Sho didn't want to lie anymore. Suddenly, Sho wanted to go as far as to address you with the proper honorifics, ask for your help with setting up his food truck, and even generally spend time with you outside of that. And for what? Some trembling, scared, pathetic girl that knew nothing of the world of anomalies prior to her curse? Some girl doomed to "die" in less than one year, no less? He couldn't understand the kindness Sho showed you. It made no sense, nor any difference. You'd be dead soon, so what did it matter?

It's got to the point where he's begun to randomly put you down with petty insults and biting remarks. They usually consist of things like "Oh my god, even preschoolers know Anomalous Biological Basics! Come on Inspector, is your head screwed on right? Not even the Captain is this stupid." or "You remember your ability is useless when we need it, right? You'd be nothing more than a burden on missions if you can't even control this power. " or even "God, you're such a basic loser. Can't you find something else to do with your free time instead hang around Sho like a lovesick puppy? You're starting to look like that dog that's always around Kagami." and worse insults. He gets the occasional sidelong disapproving glance from Alan or even a slight furrowed brow from Sho, but it didn't matter to Leo. So long as he could slowly plant seeds of doubt in his fellow ghouls and put you down to satisfy his ego, even an odd look was negligible.

He couldn't even stand looking at you. The uniform they'd chosen for you was awful, didn't even highlight your curves. He hated the way you styled your hair, and always thought he could totally do it better. The way you seemed so relaxed around other ghouls pissed him off, why couldn't he be good company? He found you repulsive, unable to resist glaring at you from the corner of his eye whenever he could. He had to get rid of you somehow. He would never admit to feeling threatened by you; instead choosing to focus all that energy into believing you were simply throwing a wrench into his plans to live an easy, get-away-with-anything university life.

It's all come to a head today. Leo thinks he's had enough of seeing you at the food truck after hours, chatting it up with Sho. It's like he can't even catch this guy alone anymore. Before he knows it, he's made a beeline for the truck. His brand new shoes scuff on the brick path in his rush, and eventually begin to stain green on the grass, his brisk stride tearing through the verdant lawn. He tries not to let his anger show on his face, but it's evident in his posture and pace. He forcefully sidles himself into the conversation, leaning on the service counter next to you, not even waiting for you to finish speaking before he pipes up. "Wow, here again, huh? And here I thought a basic bitch like you would know her place! That mouth of yours must be good for something if he keeps a chatterbox like you around."

The chill settles into the air almost immediately despite his candid tone and relaxed, smug smile. He's so focused on your reaction that he hardly notices the look Sho gives him, twisted with displeasure and confusion. He watches as you visibly falter, your lopsided smile fading into a barely-there frown. He stares, unrepentant, laughing internally. This was the reaction he wanted.

He turns towards Sho and raises an eyebrow at his look. "What? She can take it." Sho's expression visibly wavers, and Leo fully expects him to back down, as he usually does. But instead, Sho turns to you and his face grows pale. Leo rolls his eyes, assuming Sho is totally overreacting, and turns to you. He stiffens at your visible tears. Okay, totally not what he expected, but come on. This was the insult that made you cry?

Leo notices Sho is at your side in record speed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and gently drawing your hunched form away, giving Leo a harsh look. Leo simply scoffs. As far as he was concerned, your reaction was pathetic. It wasn't going to stop him from having any fun.

This. Under no circumstances should this hurt. At all.

Leo had noticed you'd been avoiding him. You would slink away if he so much as entered the same room as you. You wouldn't look him in the eyes if he approached, keeping your expression impassive. Sometimes you'd just outright ignore him. It was beginning to become a bit of a nuisance. He couldn't properly mock you if you weren't there to witness it happening, or didn't give him the reaction he wanted. It was odd. When he faced these feelings head-on, it almost felt like he wanted your attention somehow, even if he didn't quite want it to feel like that. A nagging feeling told him that maybe he went too far with his latest insult. He didn't want to admit that, but something told him he did. It was in the way both you and Sho acted around him.

Sho was missing a lot of Leo's calls lately, sometimes not even bothering to call back. Leo partially understood, what with the food truck business booming and all, but he didn't appreciate being made to wait for his own best friend who's usually at his beck and call. Not to mention the flat, terse responses he would get from Sho more often than not nowadays. Leo knew Sho was miffed with him from last week's incident, but as far as Leo was concerned, things still ended in his favor. He hadn't seen you around Sho much anymore, which means he could go back to how things were. No more pesky little honor student to reign upon his days any longer! Sure, there was the biting underlying feeling that maybe he'd screwed things up, but one ride on the back of Sho's motorcycle, going wherever Leo wanted as per usual, and he was living the dream again. No way everything would change over a silly, insignificant insult.

For a short while, he begins to get bolder, openly mocking you when he does come across you. His originally surface-level remarks become rather personal, even using your eventual death as a way to tease you. From "You know, I'm surprised you haven't done anything to change up that unflattering look, considering you're dying soon. Ever considered dressing up a little? You might get some attention before you die." to "Hey, Little Miss Inspector! With the number of men you talk to around campus, I'm surprised nobody's written you off as a whore yet!", and worse, of course. He continues to get no such reaction out of you, and it frustrates him to no end. Why couldn't you just frown? Shrink away? Or even retort something just as scathing back to him? Your lack of entertainment towards his endless ridicule reduced his motivation, and slowly, it ended up dying off. Soon, he left you alone altogether, not talking to you unless necessary, mimicking your actions. In a way, some part of him hopes maybe this will be what gets your attention. Even if he can't quite admit to himself that your attention, regardless of whether it's positive or negative, is what he wants.

It's late, but Vagastrom students don't go to bed until far later. And Leo needs a favor.

His crushing lack of success in garnering any sort of attention or reaction or rise from you had driven him to a point. He didn't want to apologize to you or anything, but this new habit of you ignoring him was beginning to stoke his displeasure. In his pondering, he remembered how easily Sho captured your gaze and wondered if maybe he'd have any idea of what Leo could do to at least put an end to this stalemate.

Leo's reluctance shows in the way he drags his feet on the path to Sho's room, less than eager to confront him for his opinion on something so shamelessly trivial. Why was he wasting his time with this anyway? Surprisingly, the lack of a solid answer to that question did not stop his trek. A twinge in his chest told him he knew exactly why he was "wasting his time".

In the month it had been since he'd made you cry, the nagging feeling had only gotten harsher. His mind kept flickering back to the shock of your tears and how he'd not bothered to consider it much further. An uncomfortable guilt had made itself known starting then. He never really expected you to cry; he just wanted a mild reaction. He wanted your eyes on him, flashing with anger, just for a moment. Your ire was a saccharine pill laced with ecstasy that he'd gladly crush with his teeth to speed up his high. Maybe it'd be too much to say he got off on it, but he enjoyed the way you used to roll your eyes at any comments from him a little more than he cared to admit. Now, he wouldn't even get that. It'd be rare for you to so much as make fleeting eye contact with him, not that something as small as that would be enough for Leo. Part of him was willing to accept that maybe, he'd gone too far. Maybe. But how else was he supposed to monopolize your attention when you give that out so freely? To his best friend, even?

He didn't know it was possible to covet something so terribly. He found himself wondering why he couldn't catch your attention in the same way as the other ghouls? In his quest for the same attention you gave so freely to the kinder, softer ghouls, he found another version of your attention. It was negative, but it was attention nonetheless. Your sweet, honeyed rage seemed to fill his cravings and then some, so he continued to devour it under the guise of "chasing you away" or "putting you down" or "satisfying his ego". In truth, for whatever reason, there was a rather bothersome and persistent envious longing, a covet, for your attention. Leo wants to vomit. A part of him denies it still, pushing his needless feelings to the back of his brain. He had something to do, and he ought to focus on that. What good would mere wallowing do?

He makes it to Sho's room and almost considers turning back. He stares at the door, his expression morphing into a complicated look. He shifted his feet, his slippers sliding against the floor. It was quite clear he really did not want to do this. At all. He sighs and grumbles indignantly, putting his head in his hands in an attempt to gather some courage. This couldn't be that hard, right? Just in, ask Sho a question, get an answer, then out. The only reason this was easier said than done was just because it could potentially show Leo was capable of feeling remorse, which would make this conversation leagues harder than it needed to be. He shakes his head and straightens up, preparing to knock, when he notices something.

Sho's room was... unusually quiet. Usually, Leo almost always heard some loud music or a cooking show running in the background, but he couldn't hear anything this time. Sho couldn't possibly be asleep. As late as it was, the only person who Leo knew for a fact could stay up past him was Sho, regardless of how much sleep he had gotten. There was no chance Sho was asleep. Believe it or not, Leo doesn't like to spy on Sho. But curiosity overwhelms him. What could he possibly be doing that would render the whole room in silence?

"Haxs," he whispers, listening closely.

The first thing he hears is the cling-clanging of Alan hard at work on a car in the garage. Not the sound he was meant to be focusing on. Then he hears endless jeering and loud insults shouted, though they're all muffled like they're underground. Another pit fight? Still, not the sound he's looking for. He sifts through the sounds he hears before he settles on the one coming directly from Sho's room.

Voices. Groaning, strained voices. The sound of wet skin against wet skin. Panting. Sho's panting, specifically. He could tell by the slight nasally tone of it.

Leo felt his face gradually warm. Christ, of course it'd be this he'd be up to. Leo muffles a laugh into the collar of his pajamas, keeping his hand clamped over his mouth as his body shook with mirth. When he finally calms down, he slinks off to the corner down the hall, and hides himself there, shamelessly still listening to it. Sho's a sly dog. Leo certainly didn't expect him to be getting up to anything this soon. He leans his body against the wall, crossing his arms and drumming his fingers on his arm, waiting for Sho to finish. He smirks to himself, as though enjoying the vocal show.

...

He had to admit, whoever he was with had gorgeous moans. He'd have to ask Sho if he'd be willing to pass this girl's number. He could use a couple things to get his mind off of you.

...

Okay, he had to stop listening to this now. He lifts his stigma and holds his hands over his ears for good measure, partially trying to hide the furious red blush across his face. As pretty as that girl's moans were, he was not going to listen to his best friend's climax. No thanks. He huffs out an impatient breath as his cheeks cool down, leaning his back against the wall, leaning his head back until it hit the wall with a dull thump. Now he just had to wait it out. He knew damn well Sho would never let a girl stay over. He'd never hear the end of it from yours truly, Leo.

Leo's right. It isn't long before he hears the door to Sho's room click, and hears murmured voices travel down the hall. He smirks, rushing down the hall in the opposite way, so it doesn't look like he was listening the whole time. He listens, waiting for a cue of some sort.

"Shame you have to go, you know." Sho's voice. Laced with relief, pleasure, and a thick tiredness. Leo's skin crawled. He could practically feel the smile in Sho's voice.

"It's not so bad." The girl responded with a light and playful tone, her voice seemingly much more put together than Sho's despite all that moaning. The voice sounded oddly familiar, but Leo brushed it off. Must be someone he shares classes with. "I've got things to do anyway. But it was nice to spend some time with you, Sho." Eagh. Leo internally hopes this girl isn't the type to get easily attached.

"...Yeah. Same to you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Finally, he heard the girl's footsteps trailing down the hall, heading in his direction. Leo hurriedly pulls his phone out of his pocket, making sure the screen was bright as he flipped through the latest trends. He made a point of not looking up until he heard the footsteps nearing him.

He looks up, prepared for a simple glance, but ends up being rooted to the spot.

It was you. Of course, it was you. Who else would be taunting enough?

Despite himself, his gaze remains glued to you, his head turning as you walk past him. For a moment, Leo thinks you're just going to ignore him again. Then, suddenly, your gaze meets his in a flash, and he stiffens, almost out of fear. The way your eyebrows crease and the way your lips twitch downward almost makes him salivate. You were clearly displeased to see him. Even so, he notices you don't slow down, continuing your way down the hall, not bothering to crane your neck to look at him.

Leo remains rooted to the spot, watching your figure as you leave. His jaw hangs open slightly, his chest heaving with shocked breaths. His eyes are wide open, pools of gold reflecting your retreating form. His hand trembles as he holds his phone, the latest trends left neglected in the wake of a single mean-spirited glance from you. He feels his heart pound mercilessly in his chest, as though confirming what he'd tried so desperately to deny.

All at once, anger and arousal seem to grip him simultaneously. Anger at himself for feeling arousal from a mere negative glance from you. He couldn't possibly have craved your attention so viscerally he'd happily accept mere scraps. And yet here he was, a lap dog, watching you as you leave as though silently begging for another glance, another chance to watch your eyes burn with that familiar, delicious anger, another meal to satisfy his starved heart.

For a moment, he would have gladly followed you, and pestered you to death, just to irk you and become a willing victim of your wrath. Anything... just for that attention.

a/n: wow. no stop why am i kind of in shock at the poetic lines i kinda think i did a great job! but 4 whatever reason it's always the writing i think was total shit that does actual numbers *sob*

aghhhh in any case. no i don't have an excuse 4 this. my requests are still technically closed. i just... couldn't help myself... so consider this a freebie. regardless though if u like my writing feel free 2 fill the fuck out of my inbox idnc i love hearing from y'all.

also TUMBLR KEEPS TURNING OFF MY REBLOGS!!!! GRAH!!!!!! tumblr hates me y'all they keep catching on2 me 4 writing porn :( so please if u really wanna show appreciation and tumblr won't let u reblog, leave a comment! those make me happy :)

anyways. usual note that i adore likes, comments, and tagged reblogs!! please tell me how much you like my writing, i love to hear it and it keeps me going! until next timeeeeeeee!

EDIT: I FORGOTTT QUICK EXPLAINATION: im assuming everyone knows pavlov's dog and the whole classical conditioning theory. this story is basically that mixed with the mere-exposure effect.

neutral stimulus: mc's presence

natural response: leo's arousal/excitement

response-producing stimulus: mc's anger

mere-exposure effect: psychological effect in which a like or dislike of things is developed merely due 2 familiarity.

#minors dni #tkdb #tkdb smut #tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker smut #tokyo debunker x reader #tdb #sho haizono #leo kurosagi #sho haizono x reader #sho haizono x mc #leo kurosagi x reader #leo kurosagi x mc #tokyo debunker mc #tokyo debunker sho #tokyo debunker leo

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mistydeyes · 1 year ago

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a sick day visit

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summary: You prided yourself on not getting sick. Even as a child, you bragged about your perfect attendance. However, the day has finally come and you’re in bed with a sore throat and swollen lymph nodes. Noting your absence, the 141 decides to pay you a visit.

pairing: 141 x pharmacist!Reader

if you want to read some other interactions with our lovely pharmacist -> pharmacist!reader tag

warnings: swearing, medical terminology/descriptions of illness

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

Healthcare professionals never get sick. They just don't. That's why when you woke up with a sore throat, swollen and painful lymph nodes, and a headache, you silently cursed everything in the universe. The last few days you were more tired than usual but nothing out of the ordinary. You were supposed to report to the pharmacy at 07:00 hours but you knew you weren't going to make it there. You groggily grabbed your phone and made a few phone calls. Eventually, after an hour, you were able to get one of your civilian pharmacist colleagues to fill in for you. "Thanks, Dr. Stewart, I already notified security and the techs that you'll be coming in today," you hoarsely croaked out and hung up the phone.

Once everything was in order, you put a plain shirt and pants on and bundled yourself in a blanket. You knew that you should go visit the doctor to find out what was wrong. You brushed your teeth to have a semblance of normalcy but to put it politely, you looked like hell. Before you left, you made sure to find a medical mask, just in case whatever you had was contagious. You slipped on some shoes and exited your quarters to the medical wing.

As you walked, you ignored the bewildered looks of the soldiers as they passed. Some gave you a quick, "Good morning, Captain," and you weakly gave them a wave. Eventually, you could see Captain Price emerge from an adjoining hallway and he locked eyes with you. "Captain L/N, heard you were missing from the pharmacy today," he said and you moved to the side of the hallway to allow others to walk. "Hi John, just feeling under the weather, should be back tomorrow," you said softly. You could see the pity in his eyes as you used your elbow to cough. "Just let me know if you need anything, I'll personally have the 141 deliver anything," he said kindly and allowed you to continue to the doctor.

Despite being a pharmacist, you hated going to the doctor. Something about the sterility of the environment made you uneasy. "Ah Captain, funny seeing you here," the doctor commented as she entered. You smiled, she was one of your better friends in this department and you relaxed upon seeing her. "Definitely don't want to under these circumstances," you replied and she motioned for you to take off your mask so she could begin examining you. As soon as you opened your mouth, you could tell she knew what was wrong with you.

"What is it?" you asked and she dialed a number on the medical wing's phone. "Oh love, I think you have mononucleosis. I'm going to run some blood work and have a test done but it's pretty certain," she spoke and you were surprised. "Isn't that only spread through direct contact or saliva?" you asked. It was a silly question as mononucleosis was also known as the kissing disease but you wanted extra confirmation. "It can be or it can be spread by sharing utensils or drinks," she said and you internally facepalmed. You silently regretted going out for drinks with your techs and trying everyone's drinks. "It usually takes about 1-2 months to show symptoms," she continued, "there is no treatment, only rest, liquids, and paracetamol."

After two hours of waiting for your results with the phlebotomist, your doctor's suspicions were confirmed. "Sorry Captain," the phlebotomist said and sent you back to your room with a bottle of paracetamol and some Liquid IV. As you changed into pajamas, you made sure to notify your staff of your diagnosis and promised you'd be back at work as soon as your fever broke. Having nothing else to do, you settled back into bed and grabbed a book for the long days of recovery ahead.

You were almost finished with your book when you heard a knock on your door. "Coming," you called and put an Army sweatshirt on before opening it. At the door were four men who you immediately recognized as the 141. You almost laughed when you saw them all wearing matching balaclavas with a skeleton painted on them. Better safe than sorry, I guess. "What are you guys doing here?" you asked as you held the door partially open. "Heard our favorite pharmacist was sick so we brought you some things," Gaz smiled at you and you noticed a small bag of goodies in Soap's hands. "What you got anyways?" Soap asked as he handed you the bag. "Don't laugh but I have mono," you said and everyone took a step back. "I promise I'm not contagious but no kissing and sharing drinks for me for a little while," you joked and you could see everyone take a deep breath. You invited them inside your room to continue the conversation.

As they walked into your room they admired the decor. Unlike some other officers, the base was your permanent housing arrangement. You decided to make it as much of a home as possible. This included bringing in carpets for the cold tile floors, a bookshelf filled with pharmacy textbooks and novels in various languages, and other little trinkets. You even had a few pictures of your favorite people including your proud parents. You sat on the bed and the men cozied themselves on the carpet and your small loveseat. You allowed everyone a moment to settle as you could see them eye your decor. Everyone seemed to find something that peaked their interest. Simon studied your posters of famous art pieces, Gaz tried to figure out the locations of the postcards from your uni pharmacy friends, and Soap was intensely looking at the colorful pillows that adorned your bed. "Quite a setup you have here," Price commented as he thumbed through your Russian copy of Wuthering Heights. "Might as well make this place a home," you smiled and pulled a blanket around yourself.

"Do you know how you got it?" Ghost spoke up suddenly. "Well it might have been my fault but it was probably when I took my techs to a pub off-base," you sheepishly answered. "It was stupid but we all thought it would be a great idea to share drinks," you continued. "I thought it was the kissing disease," Gaz commented as you finished your story. You laughed lightly before responding. "That's one of the easiest ways to get it but anything with saliva contact spreads it," you began, "Plus there's no significant other I would have to worry about, Sergeant" Suspiciously, they all smiled and you couldn't understand why they were so invested in your love life.

"Anyways how have you been?" you asked and Price was the first one to speak up. "Back again for a while but we still miss your patient care in the pharmacy," he replied and everyone nodded their heads in response. "Your friend doesn't know what they're doin," Soap pitched in, "he just gives us our prescriptions without even a hello." Your smile faltered slightly, you were upset to hear this is how he treated your patients. "I'll be back soon, I promise," you responded. After a lull of silence, you yawned as today's events had tired you out. "You should open the bag," Ghost mentioned and you suddenly remembered the gift they put together.

You grabbed the small brown bag that sat next to you and poured its contents out on your duvet. Inside, they had put some snacks from the vending machine, bags of tea, and a crudely drawn picture of what looked like the members of the 141. "Oh thank you all," you gasped and went to pick up the drawing. "Why this though?" you asked and saw four figures carrying a comically sized pill bottle to what looked like you with a mask and blanket. "What I thought it was funny," Soap said defensively and you smiled. "I'll be sure to frame this one," you said before setting it back down. Despite being cold-hearted soldiers, they did some nice things sometimes. Eventually after some more light conversation, they could tell you needed some rest and saw themselves out. "Thanks again for stopping by," you called as they exited. "Anytime," Price said before he closed your room's door.

As they walked down the hall, you could hear their conversation through the thin wall. "You see that picture of them from uni?" you heard Gaz ask. "Ye the one next to the bookshelf, right?" Soap responded. "Didn't know that wearing a bathing suit with a pharmacy coat was part of the uniform," you heard Gaz say and your eyes shot to the aforementioned photo. You stood there, two other friends from pharmacy school, on the beaches of Cornwall only wearing a bathing suit and your white coat. Next time you invite someone over, you'll be sure to hide that photo.

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lovelettersfromluna · 1 year ago

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˚ ༘⋆｡˚❀ Blossom ❀˚｡⋆ ༘˚

{Ellie Williams x Reader}

Summary: Ellie broke up with you in high school right before she left for college. At the time, it left you devastated….five years later, she’s back. And she’s back for you.

an: hi my angels! I KNOW I KNOW I HEAR YOU ALL YELLING AT ME I’m sorry this took so long. This isn’t exactly what any of you asked for, but it’s an idea Ive had for a while. Once I started it I seriously could not stop until I was finished. Yes this is a cliff hanger, and yes I’m planning a part 2. I have a bunch other things coming up as well! I hope you’re all doing well, and I thank you so so much for the patience you all have with me. I really hope you guys like this one, enjoy my loves 🖤🖤

Warnings: 18+!! Smut!! Angst!! (Is it a fic of mine if there isn’t angst at this point), small town!Ellie, it’s summer time ofc hehe, fingering (r!receiving), nipple play (r!receiving), petnames, Ellie hurt reader in the past but is extremely desperate for her now, lots of kissing, let me know if I missed anything pleaseee. (Not proofread)

You can read part 2 here!

“But…can’t we just…can you just rethink this Ellie? You always said we would be-“ Ellie was quick to cut you off as she shoved the remainder of your things into a box, her eyes never once turning in your direction as you sat on her bed, eyes staring up at her as you practically begged her to just take a moment and think about this.

“I’ve already made up my mind. I don’t want to have to worry about you while I’m away, this is what’s best” her words are cold, and stern and it almost doesn’t even sound like her, like your girlfriend isn’t even living inside the person who is currently rummaging through her closet to look for the random things you’d left throughout the years.

And you aren’t even sure what to say. Fat tears are rolling down your cheeks as you silently cry, sitting on Ellie’s bed as you plead with her to just….fucking listen to you.

The soft sniffle you let out is what finally has her looking in your direction, and she sighs. You look so small, so defeated, and she knows she’s being rough with you right now. For some reason, she doesn’t seem to care.

She puts her hand on her hip, standing near her closet for a moment before she reaches down and grabs the box, setting it on her desk. She walks over to you, standing over you as you stare down at your hands, silently crying on her bed.

“Come on…it’s late and I need to start packing…” She mumbles out, you can’t help but look up at her in disbelief. You had never seen her be this cold towards you, she was always warm and welcoming. This new side of her made you feel sick.

You know there isn’t any use in sitting there and begging her, and you decided you’d save any pride that you had left, and stop yourself from further embarrassment. You stand up, roughly wiping away your tears as you make your way towards her door. When you turn around, opening your mouth to say one last thing to her, she shoves the box into your arms and slams the door in your face.

That was five years ago.

Sometimes if you think about it hard enough, you can still think about those feelings you felt that night. Eighteen years old, heartbroken, confused, sobbing into your pillow as you begged the invisible force that was the universe to explain to you why this happened to you, and what you could have done to change the unforgiving course that your relationship with Ellie took.

And it wasn’t to say that it was sudden, or that you didn’t suspect it, you did. Your break up with Ellie was something that was bound to happen, and you both knew that, it was just her demeanor that made it seemed as though she never cared for you that came as a surprise.

Ever since the final months of your senior year together, your relationship had been estranged. Ellie had been so distant, so focused on college, but so where you. You were both extremely involved with your academic life, with your writing career being so important to you, and Ellie wanting to desperately get out of the small town you both lived in, your lives had been set in stone from the moment you both got your acceptance letters from your colleges.

The thing is, they were nowhere near each other. And you knew that it would be hard to keep a relationship with Ellie. However, you expected things to go differently, to keep in touch with the girl that had grown to be your favorite person in the entire world from the moment she took you under her wing on the first day of ninth grade.

But that isn’t what happened at all. Ellie threw you away, shoving a box of your things into your arms and sending you home without even a simple goodbye before she was getting on a plane to go to Europe for college.

As time went on, you understood why she did what she did, you just wished she’d done it differently.

And maybe you never truly got over the girl that you had fallen in love with when you were so young. Regardless of if it was puppy love or not, it was love, and your youth would never be able to take away from that.

You never truly forgave Ellie either. You got over it, and you one day woke up and figured there was no use in dwelling on something that had already happened, and that you could not change, especially since you were in college as well. You quite literally had the life you dreamed of, and worked for since you were a little girl and you weren’t taking advantage of it because of a girl that broke your heart, and no longer cared about you.

Because you knew Ellie, and you knew that she would be living her life, doing all the things she wanted to do, traveling the world and enjoying herself without anything holding her back.

So that’s what you did, you lived your life. Because no matter how upset you were, no one had the right to rob you of that.

You enjoyed the rest of your time at college, making life long friends and memories, enjoying the life of a young person living in a big city, studying your most loved subjects, even finding a cute girl every once in a while to fill the void that was your love life.

But you did it all with the girl who broke your heart in mind, the wild fire that once burned inside of you and forced countless tears from your eyes succumbing to a few pieces of burnt wood, still glowing from the previous flames that engulfed them.

Calm, but still there.

After college, you took on a few jobs and internships that would benefit your writing career, getting you in touch with good people that would point you in the write direction. You were praised for being a young writer with such a knack for writing, and before you knew it, you had an agent and a publicist who were eager to get your work on the shelves.

The city was loud, and bustling. And while it was amazing for you to party until the sun came up, and to make out with strangers outside of a bar, it wasn’t the best for writing. It was too loud, and you found that your constant state of writers block came from the overwhelming sense of stimulation that came from the city and the people in it.

It’s how you found yourself coming back to your home town during the summer, purchasing a small house in a quiet neighborhood near your parents old house. It’s small, and quiet, and has the prettiest garden with the prettiest flowers. You feel the creativity flowing through your veins the minute you sit down on the couch near your window, the calm breeze blowing through your hair.

And regardless of the fact that it’s your first time home since you left for college, and the sleepy town you grew up in holds so much hurt and pain from your younger years, you’re writing, and you’re happy.

And there’s no harm in making new memories to replace the bad ones.

It’s a normal day for you, the summer breeze is warm and inviting, and you find that these days are the best to take advantage of. The weather is nice, and warm enough that you’re able to lay out and write to your hearts content, but not hot to the point of feeling as though your brain is melting inside of your skull. You find yourself at the park near your house, laid out on a white sheet you brought from home. You chose a spot near the lake under a shady tree.

You were so confident in your newest work, finding yourself smiling like an idiot every time you felt you were typing too fast for your fingers to keep up with your thoughts. You liked it that way, getting so lost in your own little world, making it so easy to avoid the outside world that was around you.

So lost, that you didn’t even hear the low chuckle behind you.

You had to blink a few times, seemingly breaking yourself out of your trance. Your eyes had to adjust a bit to the warm glow of the afternoon instead of the bright morning sun that you remembered looking at when you first got to the park. Your eyes widened a bit when you checked the time, realizing how much time had past. You had spent the entire day writing.

“Writin’ again huh? You gettin’ close to the end?” Joel rasped out.

Joel had always loved you. From the moment Ellie brought you home, he was just as enamored with you as she was. He was used to his daughter bringing home friends all the time, always mixing up the old names with the new ones and opting to give them a polite greeting before she was dragging them up to her bedroom, Ellie always had a thing for picking up strays, he’d tell her.

But you, you were different. He saw the way Ellie’s eyes twinkled when she talked about you, the way her freckled cheeks would burn red every time he mentioned you, and whether or not Ellie wanted to invite you over for dinner. You made his daughter happy, and he loved you for that.

He wasn’t the happiest when he realized Ellie had ended things. Once the smiles that came with the mention of your name turned into aggravated huffs and eager attempts at trying to brush it off, he figured things didn’t end well.

That, and the fact that he spotted you leaving Ellie’s bedroom with a box filled with your things and tears streaming down your cheeks.

He told Ellie that night, that girls like you were hard to find. And that he hoped she at least had the decency to let you down easy, because that’s how he had raised her.

At least he hoped.

The hardest part about coming back home after so long, was that you’d feel lonely. Your parents had sold their house and decided to travel after you left, and while you were extremely happy for them, you couldn’t help but feel empty with a lack of parental guidance and warmth close by.

Joel made sure you were never without it.

When he saw the little house with the cute garden that you always talked about when you were younger had been sold, he figured you were coming back. He made sure to call you before you arrived, the man always keeping your number in his phone, regardless of the fact that his daughter had begged him time and time again to delete it.

Joel was at your door the week you moved in, pulling you into a big bear hug. The smell of his cologne and fresh cut grass almost had you in tears, because it made you remember just how much you missed home, how much you missed him…

How much you missed Ellie.

So, ever since you were back home, Joel never really went a day without seeing you. He’d take you into town to run some errands, you’d drop off some dinner to him once in a while, making sure he was eating and healthy. You’d even made it a tradition to have coffee once a week together.

Joel was lonely, you saw it in his eyes. He missed his daughter dearly and he didn’t seem to handle being an empty nester as well as your parents did. Ellie had done an amazing job at avoiding her home town as much as possible, never visiting for more than a weekend.

Joel needed a kid to look after, and you needed a parent to look after you.

You giggled softly as you closed your laptop and put it in your messenger bag. Joel was already close by, his calloused hand reaching out for yours and helping you onto your feet. You brushed your hand down your dress, getting any wrinkles out before you let out a sigh, shaking your head.

“Unfortunately not. This one’s gonna be a long one…it’ll be worth it though” you nod to yourself as you grab your sheet from the ground. Joel is already on the other side as he helps you fold it up, causing you to smile softly. “What has you out here today? Going into town?”

Joel nods in agreement, “always is kiddo. Always said you were gonna be a big author someday” he gives you a genuine smile, making his eyes crinkle until they were almost gone. He’s so proud of you, he always has been and it’s nearly enough to make your heart melt.

You smile softly as you adjust your bag on your shoulder after you put your sheet inside of it. You and Joel begin walking away from the lake and towards the side walk, and you can already see his pick up truck parked under a shady tree.

“Comin out of town actually, was in need of some groceries” He groans out, causing you to laugh softly. Joel hates grocery shopping, says he gets too distracted and never knows what he’s out of or doesn’t need.

But there’s something else there, his tone is different and you can’t help but feel like there’s something else on his mind. Something bothering him.

You bend your head down a bit, trying to get a better look at the older man’s face before you give him a small hum. “You okay Joel? Something on your mind?” You question softly. You assume he’s just missing his daughter, and you know he’d never come to you to vent about it since he knows how you feel about her.

He lets out a sigh, like he’d been holding it in from the moment he woke up, and it’s all you need to confirm that there is in fact something bothering him.

You’re both standing in front of his car at this point, the summer breeze getting cooler against your skin now that the sun has set. Joel turns towards you so that he’s facing you, and the look on his face has you worried.

He lets out another sigh, and your eyebrows are furrowed in confusion and concern as you stare up at him. “Listen kid..I uh…I can’t lie to you…wouldn’t sit right on my conscience and all…” he lets out, and you’re already scared of what he’ll say next.

“I didn’t…didn’t mean to say, really I didn’t I…it just slipped is all, when I was on the phone with her and..” he sighs softly, pausing for a moment before he starts again.

“Ellie’s coming home..” he dead pans.

And before you can even fully comprehend what he’s saying, you’re eighteen years old again, crying on your bed, begging for an answer, blaming yourself for not being enough. You can’t even fully understand that he basically just said she’s coming back because he mentioned that you’re back, because you suddenly feel like you can’t breath. Any and all progress you had made on yourself, and getting over what she did to you is set back. It’s like you didn’t make any at all to begin with, and your heart is breaking all over again.

Joel must sense that you aren’t okay, because he frowns as he waits for you to say something. He reaches out, pressing his hand against your shoulder. “Kiddo? You with me?” He asks softly, and his rough voice is the only thing that is bringing you back to earth.

You blink your eyes a few times, finally looking into his eyes rather than right through him. His expression breaks your heart, because you know he’s blaming himself for this, and he’s blaming himself for hurting you when that isn’t at all the case.

You give him a sad, small before you nod. “I’m with you Joel…” you mumble softly before you let out a sigh, paired with a half shrug.

“Things with me and Ellie…it happened, and it happened a long time ago and I can’t stop her from coming back, or you from seeing your daughter…I’m okay Joel. I promise” you nod, trying to assure the man that despite the fact that you quite literally just short circuited for a minute, that you are okay.

But he doesn’t buy it. His expression is still worried and concerned as he looks down at you. “C’mon kid…you can talk to me..just because she’s my-“ you giggle softly as you ball up your fist, punching his arm playfully to stop him before you shake your head.

“Im good Joel…it’s been long enough that…it doesn’t bother me anymore” you sigh out, trying to convince not only him but yourself.

You inhale deeply, the breeze forcing leaves to dance around both your feet before you nod towards the direction of your house. “M’gonna head home…enjoy your time with her, okay?” Your words are genuine, because you know how much he needs this, how much he needs her.

He opens his mouth to say something, to explain that although he’s looking forward to his daughter returning, he knows that it isn’t him that she’s returning for. He wants to explain that this visit has been entirely motivated by you.

But he doesn’t, he simply gives you a gentle smile as he nods. “You sure you don’t need a ride home kid?” He calls out as you’re already turning around, making your way down the familiar path that leads to your house.

You smile as you shake your head, turning around a bit as you call out to him. “The walk is good! You gotta get her room ready for her anyways. Night Joel!” You call out, cutting the conversation down completely.

Because you know you can’t do it anymore. You have to create a game plan for yourself to avoid Ellie for the next however many days she’ll be in town. You need to be alone, and in your own space so that you’re able to properly digest the news that you’d just received.

Your ex girlfriend was coming back home. The ex girlfriend that had ripped your heart out and shred it into a million tiny little pieces, that you hadn’t heard from for the last five years, who you were sure you’d go the rest of your life without seeing, was coming back to the small town that you were both from, where it all started.

You were so fucked.

Joel never have you a specific date on when his daughter was coming home, but you figured she was back once Joel’s daily texts and visits had become more sparse.

His silence was your sign to make yourself a scarce as possible. You made sure to only go out for necessities late at night, right before the shops in town closed, or extremely early before anyone in their right mind would be out.

And other than that, you’d stay home. You utilized your backyard for any sunlight you needed to get, and you were practically glued to your favorite couch near the window for a light breeze when wanting to write.

Although you were coming down with a slight case of cabin fever, you were safe from any awkward interactions, and that was fine by you.

You had spent the day cleaning, needing a bit of a reset for the new week coming in. You opened up all the windows, letting in a light breeze and airing out your house as you played music and made your way around your home, washing your sheets and folding laundry. It was therapeutic to you in a way, being able to rest later in the day in a clean home.

And that’s what you were doing now, you were showered and changed into your favorite pair of pajamas, a pair of cotton shorts with little stars on them and a tank top. You were sitting on your wooden floor in your living room, your brows furrowed as you slowly dragged the nail polish brush over one of your toes, trying to find something to do to kill the time before you had to hop into bed.

The windows were still open, a soft breeze blowing in as you hummed a random melody to yourself, your chin pressed against your knee to stabilize yourself as you painted your toes. In that moment you were so content, your head so empty of any racing thoughts that you weren’t even concerned about Ellie, or that fact that she was currently in the same town as you. It didn’t matter to you anymore.

Until you heard a firm knock at your door.

You frowned softly as you looked up at the clock on your wall, and then out one of your windows. It was already far too late for visitors, and you weren’t expecting any anyways. You sighed softly as you blew cool air gently onto your drying toes before carefully getting up, and tip toeing over to your door.

You figured it was your next door neighbor, the old woman becoming somewhat of a friend to you since you had moved in. She often came over needing help to video chat her grand kids, or to drop off some extra pastries she’d made. It worried you a bit that she’d be coming over so late in the night, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you prepared yourself to warn the old woman about the dangers of walking around so late at night, even if it was right next door.

But it wasn’t your sweet next door neighbor. It was Ellie.

You audibly gasp, your eyes going wide as you stare up at her, because you realize in that moment just how long it’s been since you’ve seen her face, and not imagined it.

She’s much taller now, her face is no longer round and youthful, but instead sharper. Her hair is much shorter, the spiky ends laying flat against the nape of her neck. You figure she cut it herself because of that. She’s still sporting the same side part, her brown fringe laying across her forehead and nearly spilling out onto her pretty green eyes.

Her eyes, they’re the same but so much different. They’re still the same shade of emerald you used to love so much, but they seem to be missing something. A certain sparkle that had been there the last few times you saw there isn’t there anymore, and it makes you want to reach out and grab her.

Your hand is gripping your door so hard, you’re sure it was enough to pull the hinges off. You’re at a loss for words, because your ex girlfriend is standing in front of you, and she’s taller, and her features are sharper, and she’s exuding something that she didn’t before all while lacking something that she used to have and….

And you can’t fucking breath.

Just like her father, she can see what’s going on inside your head. She’s chewing at her lip anxiously, because she isn’t sure how much time has passed, but enough has passed that she’s worried about you, and she’s worried about the fact that you haven’t said a single thing.

Ellie steps forward, trying to close the space between the two of you. It doesn’t close, because you back away the second you see her moving. It’s like you’re scared of her, afraid of uttering a single word to the girl in fear that it’ll only create more sorrowful memories that you’ll have to bury with the rest.

You know that if you don’t speak, she won’t leave.

“Ellie?” You breath out, as if you’d been holding it in from the moment you saw her. Ellie realizes how long it’s been since she’s heard you say her name, and now she can’t breath. Your voice hasn’t changed much, and the memories she had of you were becoming more and more blurry with each passing day. Distant echos if your voice calling her name becoming harder to decipher, unable to even tell if it was yours anymore.

But it all comes flooding back when you say it. Memories of you laying your head in her lap, or whispering sweet words in her ear. It’s all coming back in the blink of an eye and she almost can’t handle it.

She breaths out your name as well, and it’s almost like a sigh of relief. Relieved that you remember her, and that she’s standing in front of you and seeing you in the flesh, and not in a dream.

Your eyebrows furrow as she stares down at you, and you make no move to let her in further.

“Why are you here?” You mumble softly, voice thick with defense. You have to protect yourself from her, you promised yourself you would the day she broke you, and you have every intention to keep that promise.

Ellie bites her lips gently before she clears her throat. “I um..I just needed a walk…I got in a few nights ago and uh..Joel told me you lived here now, so..” she trails off. You aren’t sure you’d ever seen Ellie be this fucking awkward. Despite the confidence that oozes from her current appearance, she seems small and nervous and it almost makes you laugh.

You don’t laugh.

You furrow your eyebrows further as you eye her before you roll your eyes, already fed up with the girls excuse. “Joel’s house is on the other side of town, Ellie. Don’t play it off as if you were just in the neighborhood..” you huff out. You can’t help but ice her out, because you’ve held animosity towards Ellie for the last five years. No matter how much you wanted to get over it and be the bigger person, you’re still pissed at her.

Ellie blinks her eyes quickly in shock. She isn’t used to this tone coming from you. Her memories of you were always so sweet, and warm. She knew you wouldn’t take shit from anyone, and it was something she always loved about you.

Just not when you wouldn’t take shit from her.

Her large hand comes up to awkwardly scratch the back of her neck. You feel your insides warm up because you catch a glimpse of the large tattoo that’s covering her hand.

Damn her for getting so fucking hot over the years.

“You got me there…didn’t come as a shock though. You always loved this house” she hummed softly as she looked up at the door, and then down at the pretty flowers that decorated your front yard. It was almost like you in house form.

You tug your bottom lip under your teeth as your eyes avert to your toes, silently cursing yourself because you smudged your pinky during all the excitement that came with seeing Ellie again. You aren’t sure if it’s a good thing, or a bad thing that she remembers little things like that about you.

You figure it’s a bad thing.

You inhale deeply, still staring down at your feet. It’s killing Ellie that you won’t even look at her, she can see the prominent little frown on your face even though you’re looking down. That stupid pout was always her weakness. It’s why she refused to look at you when she broke up with you the night before she flew out to Europe.

“I think it’s best you leave, Ellie…” you mumble softly, suddenly feeling small under the girls gaze. She hates it, because she at least got to stare into your pretty eyes when you were scolding her or being mean to her. But when you were like this….it made it feel worse than all of that.

She knew she deserved it. She knew that what you were now, what you had become, was a result of her own actions. She was the one that did this, she was the one that put you in the position to treat her this way, she knew that…

She just hoped it wouldn’t have been this bad.

She doesn’t say anything, and you take that as an answer enough. You’d rather not stand at your front door being stared at by your ex girlfriend, the only sound being that of the crickets in your garden and the rustling of tree branches in the wind. So, you let out a soft sigh and gently begin pushing your door close, because you can’t take it anymore. You can’t continue being close to her because it still hurts, and you hate that it still hurts after all of this time. It makes you feel pathetic and weak, and you don’t want to deal with it anymore.

But Ellie has other plans.

Her reflexes are just as fast as you remember, because her tattooed hand comes up quickly, palm pressed flat against your door to stop you from closing it on her. The sound of it makes your eyes snap up to hers, and a sense of pride spreads through her chest because she’s finally got your eyes back on her.

She inhales deeply, pink tongue poking out of her mouth as she licks her lips. She has to think fast, and she has to find a way to keep you here because she knows she’s losing you.

“Let me take you out” she blurts out, and it makes your eyes go wide. You used to want nothing more than this, than to have Ellie at your front door, asking you out on a date.

But now that it was happening, it made you feel sick.

You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head as you tried pushing the door further against the strength of her palm. “That’s not a good idea, Ellie…just…go home…” you mumble out tiredly. Ellie almost let’s out a whine because you’re slipping through her fingers again and it seems like everything she tries isn’t fucking working.

“Please.” She begs, and her tone makes you stop pushing. You stand there as she stares down at you, eyebrows knitted as she silently begs you to hear her out, to not shut her out like she did many years ago.

“Just…so we can talk about everything…and then I’ll…I’ll leave you alone. I promise” she breaths out. Her words are genuine, and although it’s been a long time, you know Ellie, and you know when she’s telling the truth and when she isn’t. Regardless of the fact that she doesn’t deserve it, you can’t help but stare up into those pools of emerald and give in to her, just like you always did.

You let out a gentle sigh before you give her a nod. “I…fine…meet me in town tomorrow morning. Your dad has my-“ she cuts you off before you can even go any further.

“Has your number, I know.” She chuckles softly, hoping that she’s able to lighten the mood even a little bit. But you don’t budge, your words are stern and your brows are furrowed as you stare up at her, determined to let her know that this is simply one conversation she’ll be having with you, and not a sign of getting back into your life.

You give her a firm nod before you look out into the dark abyss that was your neighborhood. Where you lived was relatively safe, but you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling you had when thinking about the girl walking home by herself so late, and so far.

“Do you need me to call him for you? I’m sure he’d come pick you up…so you don’t have to walk all the way back” you mumble out softly. Her lips tug into a smile as she watches you, her stomach fluttering with those stupid butterflies you never failed to give her, because the mere fact that you’re worried about her getting home is giving her hope that she can reverse all the bullshit she put you through, completely disregarding the fact that it could one hundred percent be you just being a good person.

“Nah, I’ve got it from here. I’m a big girl…you get some rest though. I’ll see you in the morning” she hums out, and you swear for a moment your transported back to Ellie dropping you off at your house after a date. She’d always whisper the sweetest things to you after giving you an even sweet kiss, and all though her appearance had changed since then, she still had the power of making you swoon every time she bid you a good night.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. You quickly closed them in fear of saying something stupid before you gave her a quick nod. “Night, Ellie…” you manage to mumble softly, and she gives you her signature charming smile before she jogs off the steps of your porch, and onto the sidewalk that would leave her home, a noticeable pep in her step as she left.

You watch her at your door until she’s out of view, quickly slamming your door shut and letting out a loud huff, your back pressed against the door as you try to recollect yourself and process everything that had just happened.

You stay for a moment longer before you lock your door, close all of your windows and rush upstairs to get to bed, just like Ellie had told you to.

The next morning was not pleasant.

It was one of those days where you hated every single article of clothing that you owned. Every dress was either too long or too tight, all of your tops were either too big or too small, and every pair of jeans just didn’t go with what you had in mind.

Different articles of clothing covered almost your entire bedroom floor, with no stop in sight as you continued to throw shirts and socks behind you from your closet. You let out a loud huff before you fell backwards onto your bed, your hand holding onto the point at which the towel around your body folded so that it would stay closed.

You had been on your fair share of dates since Ellie. A few when you lived in the city, some while you were back home, all of which were fun and things that you looked forward to, none of which making you feel the way you felt while getting ready for this one.

And calling it a date was a complete stretch. All Ellie asked, was to meet over coffee. More than likely so that she could explain herself and give you the closure she assumed you deserved after five years, so that she’d be able to get any guilt she had for leaving you off of her chest.

But still, you were fucking nervous, and you couldn’t ignore the fact that you wanted to make a good impression. You even grabbed your phone a few times, opening your messages with Joel and typing out a pathetic excuse to him explaining that you had work to do, or you had an errand to run and to tell Ellie you wouldn’t be able to make it.

You didn’t, though. You sucked it up, got your ass of of your bed and took a deep breath in before you went back into your closet, determined to find something decent to wear.

After another thirty minutes of rummaging through your closet, you settled on your favorite pair of blue jeans, a white corset style top that had little lace trimming on the ends, and your favorite pair of sneakers just to be comfy.

The early morning sun beaming down on your exposed shoulders was enough to bring you back to earth, giving you a moment to collect yourself before you saw Ellie again. It was truly all out of a dream, or a nightmare, or a really bizarre situation that you didn’t foresee happening at all for yourself.

Ellie was back, and she made her way to your house to ask you out on a…whatever it was you were currently walking into, and you had no idea what would come of any of this or why you even said yes in the first place.

But one thing you knew to stand true, was that you were still hurt, and you weren’t going to let her off easy.

Once you got into town, you gave a few familiar faces a small wave paired with a sweet smile, one of your hands clutching the strap to your bag as you searched for a small bench to sit on while you waited for Ellie, You settled on one underneath a shady tree.

Ellie feels like her heart stops when she gets out of her dads car and spots you. You’ve always been pretty, Ellie would think about your features and try her best to burn them into her memory after she left because you were always the prettiest girl Ellie had ever seen.

But now…god, now you were ethereal. Your face hadn’t changed much, your hair was a bit shorter and it framed your face a bit more, but you had become a woman. You’d grown up, and you had this overwhelming glow to you that made it hard to look away.

And as you sat there, summer breeze blowing through your pretty hair, the rays of the sun casting down onto your beautiful skin, making it look like you were practically sparkling, in the prettiest little top, you looked like a fucking dream come true. Like every persons fantasy come to life.

And it reminded Ellie of what she chased away, of all that she could have had, but couldn’t since she made her bed and was now forced to lay in it.

She almost wanted to get back into the car and run again, run away from you and the feelings you gave her. She knew this was all a long shot to begin with, and that it wasn’t a guarantee of anything, but knowing that she at least at the opportunity to stare into your eyes for a few moments longer, and create more memories with you that were hers and hers only to keep, it made her weak in the knees, and it made her heart beat faster.

And no matter how long she had with you, it was worth it.

Her feet were carrying her towards you before she could even comprehend that she was doing so, like gravity pulling her closer and closer to her life line. It was like she couldn’t breath properly for five years, a strange weight settling in on her chest every time she was alone and had time to think about things.

One that she no longer felt when she was with you.

Her footsteps crunching against the grass make you look up, and it’s almost enough to make Ellie run. Your eyes are so pretty, and she feels like she can get lost in them for hours at a time.

She misses when your face would light up when you saw her, the way your eyes would sparkle and your plump lips would tug into a shy little smile. Now, all she sees when you look at her is sadness, and pain that she’s caused, and it’s killing her because you don’t trust her anymore, and anyone could see that.

You inhale deeply as you stand up, your hand toying with the strap of your bag as you awkwardly stand in front of her. “Hey…” you mumble softly, and you want to die because you should have said no. You should have told Ellie this wasn’t a good idea and that you didn’t want to see her because you’d rather have not done this just to avoid how fucking awkward the entire ordeal is.

And it hurts to know that this is what you’ve become. The person you regarded as one of your favorites for so long had become a complete stranger. Ellie had lived a life for five years without you in it, and you her, and you feel like there’s no use in even speaking to her anymore because you don’t know her, and she doesn’t know you.

Ellie licks her lips as she watches you, her hands balling up into firsts before she shakes them away, trying to shake away the urge she has to reach out and grab you. That’s the hardest part for her, seeing the girl that she’s wanted for the last five years standing right in front of her, and not being able to grab you and wrap you up in her arms.

She clears her throat, looking around a bit at all of the little shops and stores that are currently opening up. Her hands are stuffed in her pocket as she nods towards them. “Any of these places good?” She questions, and you blink a few times before you nod, pointing towards your favorite coffee shop. She smiles softly when she spots the place, because of course your favorite coffee shop is the most adorable one in town.

Soon, you’re both sitting in a tiny booth tucked away in the corner of the empty coffee shop. Ellie insisted she buy both of your drinks, as much as it bothered you to stand next to her and let her pay for your things, you let her because you didn’t want an argument.

Ellie feels like none of this is even real, because you’re sitting across from her and the sun is hitting your skin in the most beautiful way, and your plump lips are sparkling as they wrap around the straw of your drink, and she’s staring, she knows she’s staring but she can’t help herself. You’re a fucking dream to her, and you always will be.

She blinks a few times before she clears her throat, her large hand cupping her white mug. “So, uh…how have you been?” She questions, her voice nervous and unsure of what exactly to ask you.

You scoff gently, your eyes rolling before you speak up. “Seriously Ellie? How have I been? I don’t see it hear from you for five years and we sit down to talk and that’s what you ask me?” You question in disbelief as you stare at her as if she’s stupid. She groans softly, her strong, veiny hands coming up and rubbing her face harshly before she sighs.

“Fuck. Fuck, I know. I’m nervous, okay? It’s been a long time and…I know this is probably really fucking weird for you but..” she sighs softly, worried that if she keeps going she’ll fuck things up with you even further than she already has. She inhales deeply before exhaling, trying her best to gather her words before she tries again.

“I just…you deserve an apology, a real apology and not some bullshit excuse for one. It’s the least I can do” she pleads genuinely, her eyes searching for any sign of getting through to you.

You sigh softly, your fingers toying with the little raised designs on your glass as you avoid Ellie’s eyes. “Was it at least worth it?” You mumble softly, your voice sad and small.

Ellie feels like she’ll break right then and there.

The guilt she’s felt every day since she left you is no match to what she feels when she hears your words. It’s eating away at her, and it’s making it feel like there a weight sitting on her chest that she can’t get rid of no matter what.

She can’t even find the words to explain to you that none of it was worth it. She sabotaged every relationship she made in college because those girls weren’t you, and she was aggravated with them for not being you and that made things even worse. She missed you every single day, and she wanted nothing more than to come home to you after it all.

Ellie inhales deeply, a deep frown painting her face before she sighs. “I think you and I both know the answer to that…” she mumbles out, because she’s too ashamed to admit to you that it wasn’t at all worth it, and that she was wrong.

You hum softly, giving a slight nod as your finger dances along the rim of your glass. “Joel always wants to brag about how great you’ve done…stops himself so I won’t get sad” you chuckle dryly. Ellie sighs softly, knowing her father all too well, and knowing that he took the chance to brag about her whenever he could.

She opens her mouth to apologize for it, but you cut her off.

“I don’t fault you for what you did Ellie…I thought I did, for a long time..” you breath out, pausing for a moment before you start again, giving her a weak shrug. “I just wished you weren’t…so harsh about it…I don’t mean to make you feel bad but it really fucked me up for a while” you admit, trying your best to convey to her that she hurt you, and that it wasn’t okay.

Ellie licks her lips as she listens to you, eyes never leaving your face regardless of the fact that you refuse to look at her. She adjusts herself a bit so she’s leaning forward, wanting to be as close to you as possible before she speaks. “You have…every right to be upset with me. I thought it was a good idea, and doing it as cold as possible just seemed right for us…we were so attached to each other…I got scared that we wouldn’t make it on our own” she sighs out. She’s rambling at this point, and she can’t stop.

“But fuck, I was so fucking young, we were so fucking young. I was barely eighteen and I was traveling across the world to live on my own and…and I was nervous and scared and I…I just felt like since I was getting the one thing I’d wanted for so long, I didn’t deserve to have you too” her voice is tired, and her throat and mouth is getting dry as she goes on and on and it’s making her voice hoarse, but she can’t stop because this is her one chance to explain everything to you.

You finally look up at her from your glass, a soft pout on your lips as you think back to it all. Ellie never felt like she deserved things. Her supportive father, leaving the town she was born in, you, she felt like those good things weren’t meant to be hers. From the moment you met her, you promised her that she did deserve those things, and that she deserved every good thing the world had to offer.

But Ellie always begged to differ.

You hummed softly, nodding in understanding as you stared into her eyes. “It happened, Ellie. You and I can’t change the past. You have your life in the city, and I have mine here..” you nodded slowly, sighing softly as you look out the window.

“I’m happy you came back, and I’m happy we spoke. Joel misses you a lot you know…you should visit him more often” you smile softly as you watched her before you sighed, reaching into your purse and grabbing a few dollars from it. You count it out quickly before you place it on the table. “Here, this should cover mine..” you nod to yourself before you adjust your bag onto your shoulder and slide out of the bouncy booth seat to leave.

Ellie begins to panic as she watches you get ready to leave, because this is her first time seeing you in five years and there’s no way it’s ending so quickly. She needs more time with you, she needs to look at you longer, she needs to hear more about what you’ve been up to.

“You’re leaving already?” She interrupts, she sounds disappointed. You raise your eyebrows as you look back at her before you give her a slight shrug. “We talked, you explained yourself, I listened. That’s all there is too it, right?” You mumble nonchalantly. She’s already on her feet, grabbing the cash you put on the table and pushing it in your direction.

You giggle softly, pressing your palm against her hand and pushing it towards her body. She feels like she might faint because not only is it the first time she’s hearing your sweet giggle in five years, but your soft hand is touching hers. She can feel herself sweating from the small interaction alone.

“I’m not mad at you anymore Ellie…any guilt you have is gone now…” you nod slowly before giving her a half smile. “Have fun with your dad, okay? It was nice seeing you” you finish, giving her a small wave before turning around and walking towards the door of the coffee shop to leave.

Ellie stands in her spot for a moment, frozen as she stares down at her hand, the one you just touched. She blinks out of her trance and rushes out of the shop, chasing after you as you make your way down the side walk. When she catches up to you, she’s breathing heavily. Your eyes widen as you turn around and catch sight of the talk girl standing in front of you.

“Lemme give you a ride home” she blurts out, causing you to furrow your eyebrows a bit as you watch her. You watch her for a moment, not saying a word, because despite everything, and despite the fact that you gave Ellie a chance to explain herself, you’re still weary of her, and you’d still prefer to keep her out of your life.

But, in typical Ellie fashion, she has other plans.

Knowing she won’t take no for an answer, you eye her for a moment longer before sighing softly and giving her a slight nod. You figure the sun is extremely warm today anyways, and the walk would have you dripping in sweat by the time you made it home anyways.

The drive home reminds you of when you and Ellie were dating.

You loved watching Ellie when she drove. Her strong hand loosely gripping the steering wheel, her other draped over her own thigh (her favorite spot used to be your thigh), tongue poking past her pink lips as she concentrated on the road, her favorite song playing on the radio, wind blowing through her pretty brown hair.

It was extremely fucking hard to not gawk at her the whole way home.

She struggled too. You looked so pretty sitting next to her, her little passenger princess. Ellie loved doing things for you, she loved feeling needed by you. Providing for you was one thing that made her feel like the best possible girlfriend she could ever be to you.

And even now, when you wouldn’t even utter a single syllable to her in the passenger seat of her dads car, she still felt her chest warm up at the fact that she was driving you home.

The car came to a slow stop once she pulled up to your house, parking in the empty drive way as she turned the car off. She hums softly, her hands falling to rest on her spread thighs as she stares at your house.

You clear your throat a bit before your grab your bag off of your lap, pulling the strap onto your shoulder before you open the door for yourself and give her a small smile. “Thanks Ellie…” you breath you. She gives you a slight nod paired with a smile as she watches you.

But you don’t move.

You know you shouldn’t, but you truly can’t stop yourself from speaking the words that are hanging off your tongue. You inhale deeply before you blurt out “do you…wanna come inside? It’s just so hot and I can get you something to drink before you leave-“ Ellie’s eyes go wide as she hears your words, and before you have time to finish, she cuts you off.

“Yes!” She slightly shouts, causing you to flinch. She clears her throat, quickly giving you a nod as she tries to compose herself. “I mean…yeah…yeah sure I’ll come in. M’not doing anything today..” she breaths out almost sheepishly as she watches you with love sick eyes.

You stifle a laugh as you nod, getting out of the car and walking down the little flowered path that leads to your home. Anxiety fills up your chest because Ellie is standing behind you as you open your door for you both, and you can’t properly count how many times you’ve truly imagined this, but it’s finally happening and you’re losing your mind.

When you finally manage to open the door, Ellie almost falls to her knees because your home is every thing she imagined it would be. It’s filled with all the little things that make you, you. She can even spot a few things that you had when you were younger, and it makes her wonder if you have anything from her still.

You lead her to your living room, letting her know that she can make herself at home before you go into the kitchen. You pour her a big glass of peach sweet tea with ice before you bring it back to her.

Her eyes light up when she spots the drink, and instantly takes it. “Shit, you still make this? My dad talks about it all the time” she rushes out before she takes a large gulp, the girl almost finishing half the glass. You giggle softly as you watch her, humming as you give her a gentle shrug. “It’s a good recipe..can’t let those go, you know?”

Your words can be applied to something else, you both know it.

She sighs softly as she sets the glass down. You raise your eyebrows when you see some of the drink running down her chin. “You’ve got a little…just…uh” you mumble softly as you bend down a bit, bringing your thumb to her chin and swiping it off.

It’s your first time being this close to her, and she feels like the world has stopped right then and there.

Her big green eyes are staring down at you as you wipe the tea off her face, and she clears her throat to hold back any groaning that she’ll do since you’re this close. The noise is what snaps you out of it, and you quickly move away from her, mumbling a quick apology.

Ellie blinks a few times, her cheeks red as she tries to compose herself for a moment. She inhales deeply, opening her mouth to apologize herself before you speak up. “I’ll just…take the glass so you can be on your way..” you mumble softly, reaching down and trying to take the glass.

A loud clap of thunder makes you flinch, a small gasp leaving your lips as you look outside. The heat from earlier has brought in a thick blanket of dark grey clouds that have covered the entire sky. Lightning flashes across the sky before another clap of thunder rumbles through your home, causing Ellie to groan as she stands up.

“Fuck…that one’s gonna be bad…I better get going before it-“ she’s cut off by the harsh sound of the sudden rain fall slamming onto the ground outside, causing her to sigh loudly.

The rain is hard, and heavy, and extremely unforgiving. You’re both staring outside your window as you watch the storm force everything outside to go blurry with the white cast that the heavy water droplets bring.

“You’re not driving in that” you say sternly, quickly moving towards your windows and making sure they’re all shut so that nothing will get wet. Ellie raises her eyebrows as she watches you, knowing all too well that she’d want nothing more than to stay, and the fact that you’re insisting makes her heart flutter with joy.

“It’s not that bad…I wouldn’t want to intrude or anything..” she mumbles softly as she walks towards your other window to make sure they’re closed as well. You watch her from the corner of your eye before you quickly shake your head. “And I wouldn’t want you getting in a car accident. You can leave once it lets up a bit” you nod to yourself, not giving the girl any room for argument.

Ellie bites back a smile as she nods, trying not to get too ahead of herself.

The storm lasts longer than expected.

What usually is a short summer shower turned out to be a full blown storm that lasted well past sundown. You and Ellie got past the awkward silence that came with her staying over longer much quicker than expected.

You were both sitting on the floor of your living room, Monopoly splayed out between the both of you as you cheated Ellie of her money for the third time that game. Ellie groaned loudly, counting out the few rainbow colored bills before she threw them onto the floor.

“You fucking got me again. I’m broke, I can’t afford anymore property” she grumbles out. You giggle softly, repositioning your countless cards and bills as you shrug. “Shouldn’t have let me be banker then” you hum softly. Ellie smirks softly as her eyes watch you, her heart swelling with how fucking domestic this all felt.

She’d let you rip her heart out of her body if you wanted. Whatever you wanted, she’d give it to you.

You rested your chin on your knee as you stared at the board for a moment before looking over at her. “You always sucked at this game” your words are soft as you think back to the countless nights you’d stay up together playing cheesy board games together. You loved seeing her brows furrow in frustration every time you miraculously beat her once again, adding to your winning streak.

She smiled softly as she nodded, her eyes never leaving yours as she hummed. “You’re just too fucking good” she chuckles softly. Her words make your insides twist with delight, and you know you can’t look at her. Because she’s most definitely doing that stupid smirk that makes you burn from the inside out, and it makes you want to leap over this stupid board game and tackle her stupidly pretty face.

She notices your lack of a response, she takes it as an opportunity.

“I really miss you, blossom..” the nickname is one you haven’t heard in years. It was Ellie’s, and Ellie’s only. She came up with it soon after she had first met you, said it’s cause you reminded her of the prettiest spring flower she’d ever seen.

It makes you pause, stopping dead in your tracks as you began packing away the board game. Ellie knows she’s done it now, but she keeps going.

“And I know I don’t deserve it, but if you can just-“ your words cut off hers, because her voice is pleading and it almost sounds like she’s fucking begging you to hear her out.

“Ellie.” You warn her. She inhales deeply, pushing the board aside to move closer towards you. Her movements are slow, because she wants to give you the opportunity to stop her if you need to.

“Please…just…” she sighs out, her voice thick with a need for you as she places her long, veiny fingers under your chin, tilting it up slightly to force you to look into her eyes. When you do, you feel the air is knocked out of your chest. Her gaze is heavy and intense and she’s so fucking close. Her other hand comes down, pushing your knees apart so that she can make her way between the space of your legs.

“I know I haven’t been around, and I know what I did was wrong but just….please give me a chance to fix it…just one…I promise I won’t fuck this up..” she breaths out. She’s so close that you can feel her breath wafting against your lips. It makes you whine softly, and it makes her feel like she can’t fucking control herself.

Your eyes dart back and forth between her lips and her eyes. Your head is so clouded with her, she’s filling you up to the brim and..

And you don’t want it to stop.

You stare up into her eyes, your own big and needy before you give her a soft nod. It’s all she needs to cup your face with both of her big hands, and kiss you passionately.

You moan softly into her mouth, your hand coming up and gripping her tattooed wrist as she dominates the kiss. Memories from your past with her comes flooding in, because her lips feel exactly like you remember, her so different.

You can tell how much older she is now, how much older you both are. Kisses that were once sweet and innocent are no passionate and heavy. Her need for you is practically pouring into your mouth as she kisses you, it’s sloppy and needy and she uses any opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth.

You gasp softly against her, and that’s when she does it. Her tongue is swirling around your mouth, wanting to explore every crevice of you so that she can remember it for the rest of her life. She’s crawling into you, pushing you back so that your back hits the edge of your couch.

“Ellie…” you moan out softly, your hands coming down to tug at her t shirt as you kiss her harder. The sound of your voice drives her further to do more for you. She nods gently as she brings her hand down to undo the clasps of your top. “I’m right here baby…I’m right here…” she sighs out as she begins removing your clothes.

You whine softly, because soon enough you’re nearly bare in front of her. You’re only in a pair of your cotton panties and you can’t help but bring your arms up to shield your chest from her. She frowns softly as she looks down at you, gently pulling your arms away as she leans in to press a loving kiss to your lips. “Don’t hide from me princess…it’s just me..” she hums softly against your lips.

And you know it’s just Ellie, but it’s hard because she’s not you’re Ellie anymore. She hasn’t been your Ellie for five years and it makes it feel like you’re bare in front of a stranger, all while being bare in front of the person you’ve wanted for such a long time, the person you’ve yearned for. It makes your head spin, and it makes it hard to breath and focus on Ellie’s lips on yours.

She knows it, because you’re struggling to kiss her back. She pulls back gently, bringing her hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You with me baby? You need me to stop?” She questions genuinely, her eyes searching yours for any sign of reassurance that you may need as her other hand strokes your arm gently.

You bite your lip as you stare up at her, and you know that if you open your mouth and speak, you’ll break down. You know that if you give in and tell her what’s on your mind, you’ll dig yourself in a deeper hole than you already are in.

Instead, you simply remove your hands from your chest and grab Ellie, pulling her closer and smashing your lips against hers in a needy kiss.

She knows better, she knows something is going on inside your mind. She knows that she needs to go further and make sure you’re okay, but she can’t ignore how good you feel against her, and how long she’s wanted you in this exact position.

She groans softly against your lips as one of her hands travels down to your body. Her skilled fingers pull and tug at your nipple between her fingers, causing you to moan into her mouth before she continues to travel down your body. Her hand finds it’s way between your legs, and she hisses the second she cups your clothes pussy.

“Fuck…so fuckin’ wet for me…you poor thing…” she groans softly. You moan softly as you break the kiss, looking down at the sinful sight that is her hand between your legs, rolling small circles onto your clit. She groans softly, her other hand grabbing your chin as she angles your face up and chases your lips. “Nah uh…need you here baby, need that pretty mouth while I’m playing with your pussy, got it?” She mumbles out, her voice hoarse. Her dominant tone makes your pussy ache, and you nod obediently as you let her back in, kissing her hungrily.

She hums softly as she continues kissing you as she rubs your clit, your slick covering the entire front of your panties. Ellie smirks softly as she finally breaks the kiss, needy to see the mess you’ve made, the mess you’ve made for her. She groans softly as she pulls your panties to the side, hissing softly as she rubs your bare clit a few times before she slips two fingers into you.

“Look at that…so fucking pretty…Jesus Christ…” she whispers out as she stares at your sopping pussy. You moan loudly once her fingers slip into you, your eyes rolling back as your head hits the edge of your couch.

“F-fuck Ellie…right there…fingers feel so..mmm…so good” you moan loudly for her, your back arching up off the edge of the couch as you wiggle and squirm beneath her. Ellie marvels at your body like it’s a work of art, groaning softly as her long fingers fuck up into your weeping cunt.

“Wish you could see yourself, Angel…prettiest fucking girl I’ve ever seen” she groans out as she stares down at your body, her other hand coming up and caressing your body before she cups your boob, giving it a firm squeeze before she moves down to catch your nipple into her mouth, swirling it around her tongue before sucking harshly on your skin.

You cry out for her, your body feeling extremely sensitive as she works on you. She makes sure to not leave any part of you without attention. You moan softly as you look down at her, your swollen bottom lip tugged between your teeth as you tug at her hair, your eyes low, hazy and lust filled as you whine for her.

“M’so close Els…mm…fuck…I can’t fucking…ahh” you cry out, already so fucked out you’re barely able to finish your sentences properly. She smirks softly against your skin before releasing your nipple with a pop, giving you an urging nod as she stares into your eyes. “Come on baby, give it to me…let it out for me, that’s it…” she groans out as she stares at you.

You whine softly as you stare into her eyes. It’s so intense, and it feels like so much more than her just fucking you with her fingers. It’s heavy, and it feels like your missing half is finally back with you after so long.

You’re moaning and whimpering and huffing for her as she works on your pussy, her fingers toying with you as if she knew you like the back of her hand. You want to hold on longer, and make this moment as long lasting as possible. Your eyes squeeze shut as you moan out for her loudly, your back arching almost painfully as you cum hard all over her fingers, moaning her name like a mantra.

Ellie feels like she’s seeing fireworks. She stares at you in awe as you come undone beneath her. It’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen, it’s raw and real and it’s you, and she wants to burn it into her memory for the rest of her days.

“That’s it…that’s my good fucking girl…Jesus Christ you’re so fucking beautiful…fuck…” she groans out, and you’d swear she was the one who just came the hardest she’s ever had in her entire life.

Her praises make you whimper as you come down from your orgasm, whining softly as her fingers slow down and slip out of your sore pussy. She leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You’re so fucked out, that you hardly realize you’re being lifted off the ground and up into Ellie’s arms.

You hum softly as you nestle your face into Ellie’s neck as she gently rests you on your bed, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “I’ll be right back baby…okay?” She mumbles softly as she pushes the hair on your face back. You mumble a quiet response to her as you cuddle into your soft sheets, your bare body cold in the open air of your room.

Ellie returns with a rag from your bathroom with warm water, and she smiles softly at you. Seeing you cuddled up on the bed warms her heart, and she feels like she’s falling in love with you all over again.

She gently pushed your thighs apart, cleaning you up as gently as possible. You don’t seem to mind much, the sound of the rain against your window is enough to lull you into a gentle sleep, which makes her chuckle softly as she leaves the room and tosses the rag into your hamper.

She quickly finds a t shirt for you to wear, slipping it over your body before she tucks you into bed, smiling softly when you cuddle into your pillow almost immediately. Ellie quietly pulls her jeans off, leaving her only in her t shirt and her boxers before she crawls into bed right next to you. She pulls you close by your waist, humming as she pressed her nose into your hair and inhales deeply, the scent of you making her mind floor with memories of you and her in the past.

She sighs softly, her eyes looking towards the window as the harsh rain continued pelting down onto your window before her own eyes closed, her fingers drawing small shapes into your skin as she held you close against your chest.

And as you drifted off into a deep sleep with each passing moment, all you could think about was Ellie, and how much pain she had caused you in the past.

And how much harder it would be to get over it than you thought.

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 4 months ago

Note

your harry, your winner!!

or peaky blinders!! <33

Euro 2024. Two Wins In One Night.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - this is a check in for this fic. ive wanted to write a part two of sorts to this for a while so enjoy hunnies.

word count - 1.2k

July 2024.

England were champions of Europe.

Holy shit.

Holy Shit.

The final whistle echoes through the stadium, and suddenly, the roar of the crowd is all you can hear. England has done it—they've won the Euro 2024 final.

The dream of bringing football home is finally a reality. And at the heart of it all is your husband, Harry, the team’s captain, who played a pivotal role with a perfect assist to Cole Palmer in the 25th minute and then scored the winning goal in the 75th.

The energy in the stadium is electric, with every fan on their feet, celebrating this moment that will go down in history.

You sit in the stands, next to Phil Fodens girlfriend Rebecaa, whose little boy Ronnie has been playing with your little one Hunter.

Throughout the match, he held up a sign that read "Bring it home, Daddy," and now, as the victory sinks in, you feel an overwhelming surge of pride and emotion.

After the trophy ceremony, where Harry had lifted the Euro 2024 trophy high amidst a sea of teammates, you and Rebecca made your way down to the pitch, the atmosphere still buzzing with celebration.

As you approached the field, Hunter, bursting with excitement, broke free from your hand and sprinted ahead, his little voice ringing out,

“Daddy! Daddy!”

Harry, turning at the sound of his son’s voice, immediately dropped to one knee, his face lighting up with pure joy.

“Buddy!” he called back, his arms wide open as he prepared to catch his little boy.

Hunter didn’t slow down, running straight into Harry’s embrace.

“Daddy, you did it! You really did it!” he shouted, his voice filled with awe and pride.

Harry scooped him up, holding him close as if he never wanted to let go.

“We did it, buddy,” Harry said, his voice thick with emotion as he kissed the top of Hunter’s head. “I told you we’d bring it home, didn’t I?”

Hunter nodded eagerly, his small hands gripping Harry’s jersey. “You’re the best, Daddy! You’re a hero!”

Harry laughed, a sound full of warmth and love.

“No, buddy, you’re my hero,” he said softly, looking into his son’s wide, admiring eyes. “You gave me all the strength I needed out there. That sign you made… it made all the difference.”

Hunter beamed, his pride shining brighter than the stadium lights. “I knew you could do it, Daddy! I knew it!”

As you watched Harry spin Hunter around, the joy on their faces was everything you had ever hoped for.

You took a few steps forward, your heart full to bursting with pride and love. Harry caught your eye and gently set Hunter down, still smiling as he straightened up and reached out for you.

The distance between you vanished in an instant, and before you knew it, you were wrapped in his arms.

He pulled you close, his embrace warm and strong, the scent of sweat and victory clinging to him. You looked up into his eyes, the same eyes that had captured your heart years ago, now shining with triumph and love.

Without a word, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was filled with everything you felt—pride, joy, and an overwhelming love that only deepened with every passing day.

When you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, your hands still on his chest.

“I’m so proud of you, H,” you whispered, your voice full of emotion. “You were incredible out there. You made history.”

Harry smiled, his eyes softening as he looked at you.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he replied, his voice equally tender. “You and Hunter… you both gave me the strength to push through.”

You shook your head slightly, your eyes welling up with tears of happiness. “No, this was all you. You led them to victory. You brought football home. And you did it with so much heart.”

Harry’s hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear.

“I wanted to make you proud,” he said softly, his gaze never leaving yours. “More than anything, I wanted to do this for you and Hunter.”

You smiled, feeling your heart swell even more. “You’ve always made me proud, H. Today, you just reminded the whole world why.”

You pulled back slightly, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Harry,” you began softly, your voice full of warmth and excitement. “There’s one more thing we need to do before we can really celebrate.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, his expression curious but still glowing with happiness.

“What is it?” he asked, his hand still resting on your waist.

You bit your lip, your heart racing as you looked down at Hunter, who was still beaming with pride.

“Look at the back of Hunter’s jersey,” you said, your voice trembling just a little with the anticipation of the moment.

Harry’s brow furrowed in confusion, but he turned to crouch down beside Hunter, gently guiding him to turn around. At first, he just stared at the back of the tiny jersey, reading the words out loud without fully processing them.

“Big Brother…?”

He paused, the words hanging in the air as his mind started to catch up. For a moment, there was just silence, his eyes still on the jersey as the realization slowly dawned.

Then, like a light switch flicking on, his head snapped up to look at you, his eyes wide with disbelief and hope.

“Wait… does this mean…?” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your eyes brimming with tears of joy, a wide smile spreading across your face.

“Yes, H,” you whispered, your voice full of emotion. “I’m pregnant. We’re having another baby.”

For a second, Harry was completely still, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Then, in an instant, his face lit up with the purest joy you had ever seen.

He scooped you into his arms, lifting you off the ground as he spun you around, laughing with sheer happiness.

“Oh my God, are you serious?” he exclaimed, his voice cracking with emotion.

You laughed, nodding as he set you down, his hands still holding your waist as if he couldn’t bear to let go.

“I’m serious, H. We’re going to be a family of four.”

He let out a joyous shout, his eyes glistening with happy tears as he pulled you close again, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I can’t believe it… This is the best day of my life,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “First we bring football home, and now this? I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

Hunter, who had been watching the exchange with wide eyes, finally caught on and tugged on Harry’s sleeve.

“Daddy, I’m gonna be a big brother!” he declared, his excitement bubbling over.

Harry crouched down again, pulling Hunter into a hug, his voice filled with pride and love. “Yes, you are, buddy. You’re going to be the best big brother ever.”

He looked back up at you, his eyes still shining.

“I don’t even know what to say,” he admitted, shaking his head in amazement. “You’ve made me so happy, more than I ever thought possible.”

You leaned in, kissing him softly, your heart full to bursting with love. “You deserve it, Harry. You’ve given me everything, and now our family is growing.”

Harry’s smile was so wide it looked like it might never fade.

“This is our moment,” he said, his voice full of certainty and joy. “Our family, our future… I can’t wait to do this with you.”

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spideysbruh · 1 year ago

Text

Engaged

a/n- wedding one next ? 🤔 also happy new year !!!!

liked by tchalamet, madisonbeer and 1,826,662 others

y/n nothing matters but you.

view all 87,726 comments

ynandtimmystan they've been together for so long I hope they get married and have babies and then THEY become nepo babies and the cycle just continues fr

paulsdunes ellos son mis padres fr

rachelzegler I LOVE YOU I MISS YOU

y/n liked

y/n I MISS YOU MOREEEE LIKE SO MUCH SO BAD I miss our sleepovers ��

tchalamet pretty girl. I'm so lucky.

y/n liked

tchalamet just posted a story!

caption- 😍😍

@y/n just tweeted- it's me and my loves anniversary soon omg. six years!!!!! where did the time go omg

@wonkasyn replied- six years omg...

@ynsgf replied- are yall doing anything special?🫶

@coolyn replied- "my love" we already know it's timmy girl 😭😭

@timandyn replied to @coolyn- LMAOO she's probably just used to referring to him as her bf, love, etc. she does have a personal life yk 🙄

@ynslipgloss replied- if yall ever break up I'll lose all hope in the world

liked by y/n, dualipa, florencepugh and 3,937,373 others

tchalamet 🍫🍫🍒🍑

view all 98,828 comments

paulsatreides the emojis 💀💀

y/n im-

tchalamet liked

kylesgirlfriend the way its completely unrelated too like he's just horny fr😭😭

y/n my personal chocolatier 😍😍😩😩

tchalamet liked

y/n I love you weirdo

tchalamet liked

liked by tchalamet, rachelzegler, tayrussell and 5,727,828 others

y/n soooo we've been keeping a lil secret for a few weeks... i'm happily with you for eternity my beautiful, beloved man. you've seen me at my worst, at my best and everything in between and youre still here. I've never loved anybody more than I love you. from the day we met, I knew i would love you forever.

view all 100,298 comments

hellatightkyle NO WAYYY OMGGGG

ynsdune OMFG my parents

rachelzegler CONGRATULATIONSSSS I LOVE YOU GUYS

y/n and tchalamet liked

tchalamet my heart is still racing from that day. I love you forever. thank you for making me the happiest person in the entire fucking world.

y/n liked

y/n no baby, thank YOU for loving me and making me the happiest person ever.

ynscurtains I KNEW ITTT OMFGGG for their six year anniversary

zendaya so glad to be your personal photographer that day

tsgf it ain't gonna last 💀

hellatightkyle he's not gonna date you 🗣🗣

sabrinacarpenter CONGRATU FUCKING LATIONS OMGGG

y/n I haven't stopped crying sab help

liked by y/n, florencepugh, francesa.scorsese and 9,917,772 others

tchalamet I knew you'd say yes. but I was still so fucking nervous. asking you to be my wife was nerve wracking, but also so exciting and exhilarating and just the absolute greatest thing ive ever done. I'll never forget how beautiful you looked that day. I love you, I adore you. seeing that ring on your finger everyday fills me with so much joy, pride and love. what a lucky man I am to be marrying you.

view all 302,177 comments

atreidesdune god when will I find a man like him

l/nology HIS CAPTION OMGGG he loves her so much 😭😭🫶💕💕💕

y/n crying. I'm the lucky one.

tchalamet liked

ynandtimmystan I'm literally a genius

florencepugh CONGRATULATIONS MY LOVESSS

ynslauries I love how he always says he's so lucky to be with her 🥺🥺🥺 how i want my men.

#timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee imagine #timothee x reader #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet au #timothee chalamet social media au #timothee chalamet x you #timothee fanfic #timothee chalamet smut #timothee chalamet smau

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wethotcrazy · 2 months ago

Text

SYMPATHY IS A KNIFE

pairing: Yuki Tsunoda x Fem! Driver! Reader

word count: 3727

this is loosely based off of sympathy is a knife by charlie xcx, it’s a lot of world building please bear with me i have a vision (-﹏-。) also expect cursing. this is quite a long one (im working on multiple parts), i'll try to post as much as can.

part ii part iii part iv

All children are encouraged to do their best, dream big, and reach for the stars. But let's be honest: how many kids actually achieve that goal? How many adults can say they have been fighting for their place for far longer than they can remember?

Not a lot.

That kind of passion was rare. But perhaps it was more than passion; maybe it was the sick sense of wanting something bigger than yourself. Maybe she was just a workhorse that never learned when to stop.

Growing up karting was where Yn found a love for motorsports, it was her dad that introduced her to it. A part of her felt for the older man; this had been his dream as much as it was hers. Back then, it had always been just a hobby, even though she had already achieved multiple wins. She never thought it would come this far.

At 16, she was picked up by the Red Bull junior team to race in various junior categories, eventually making it into Formula 3 and then Formula 2. Even then scoring points and race wins came easy. Years of hard work and dedication had done her well, with many saying that a Formula 1 career was surely in the cards for her.

And if she was being honest, Yn was hungry for that Formula 1 seat.

Yn’s laptop lit up with an email, enclosed was her contract with VCARB. She was going into Formula 1. Was it arrogant to say she had been expecting this? Could you blame her for asserting it wasn’t a matter of if, but when?

But signing the contract should have felt like a victory, a promise fulfilled, a chance for everything she’d worked toward to pay off. But as the seconds flew by, Yn could already feel the weight settling over her, heavy as a storm cloud. The stakes had never been this high, and the whispers were already there, quietly accusing, scrutinizing. Her entrance into F1 wasn’t just a testament to her skill and ambition; it was a flashpoint, a reason for some to undermine her achievements and question her right to be here.

F1 wasn’t just a men’s world—it was a battleground where “passion” for her felt dangerously close to “obsession,” and her relentless pursuit of victory was both her strength and her vulnerability. Yn knew that she couldn’t just be good; she had to be perfect, ruthless in her pursuit for wins and podiums, and undeterred by every sly remark and skeptic. Sympathy, after all, was nothing but a knife in disguise, and she’d long since learned not to expect it from anyone, even her team.

Her first day at VCARB was a whirlwind of meetings, briefings, and countless faces both excited and skeptical. The engineers studied her, sizing up the girl who was stepping into a seat she’d earned, but one they seemed to question if she could keep. Her jaw tightened with determination—she would prove every one of them wrong, and not out of spite but out of an unyielding hunger to carve her name in F1 history.

Yuki arrived in the afternoon, a familiar face in a sea of unknowns. With an easy grin, he crossed the garage, his demeanor effortlessly lighthearted as he joked with the engineers before catching her eye. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you here so soon,” he teased, a glimmer of pride in his eyes that he knew she’d earned.

She let a small smile slip, and for a moment, the walls she’d erected came down. “Surprised? I thought you’d know better,” she quipped back, crossing her arms.

“Not surprised,” he replied. “Just excited. Maybe I’ll finally have someone here to keep me on my toes.”

But behind their friendly exchange was an edge, a reminder that this was a competition and that teammates or not, they were both vying for survival in the world’s most ruthless racing series. They had both clawed their way here, and no amount of camaraderie could change the fact that every second on the track was a chance to prove they deserved to stay.

Underneath Yuki’s easygoing nature, she knew there was a fierce competitor. She’d seen him race, seen the raw talent that made him as unpredictable as he was quick. Yn knew they’d push each other to the limits, that their friendship would inevitably become a duel of ambition. And she wanted that—it made her hungrier, sharper.

But there was something different about her fight. Being the first female F1 driver in years meant her wins were never just hers; every success and failure became ammunition for those who doubted women in motorsport. There was no room for mistakes, and any slip-up would be amplified, dissected in the press, on social media, even in private conversations she was never meant to hear.

One night, as she stared out at the empty track after hours, she felt Yuki’s presence beside her. “They’re going to be watching everything I do,” she said, voice low, a rare admission of vulnerability.

“They watch all of us,” he replied softly, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “But I know how hard you’ve worked to get here. And… well, if they think they can beat you down, you’re gonna prove them wrong. Just… stay hungry, yeah?” He nudged her shoulder gently.

“Hungry?” she scoffed, steeling herself. “I’m starving.”

Yuki chuckled, but it was laced with respect. “Good. Because that’s what it takes.”

The season had started on fire for Yn. Her first four races saw her consistently in the points, an impressive feat for any rookie, let alone one under as much pressure and scrutiny as she was. Headlines praised her talent, with journalists and fans alike marveling at her ability to keep up with more seasoned drivers. Her team, too, seemed to start letting their guard down, seeing her not as a gamble, but as an asset. But as is often the case in Formula 1, the success didn't last forever.

Her fifth race began with promise, but Yn knew almost from the start that something was off. The car felt different, twitchy around the corners, each lap feeling more and more like she was on a knife’s edge. Halfway through, she could feel her grip on the track slipping, but she pushed harder, unwilling to lose ground.

With just a few laps remaining, the inevitable happened.

The crash was swift and brutal. The car spun out in the third sector, her back tires skidding as she lost control. She hit the barriers hard, the sound of carbon fiber breaking echoing through her helmet. Her vision blurred as the world spun, then finally stopped, leaving her breathless in the cockpit, staring at the wreckage around her.

Her engineer’s voice came through her headset immediately. “Yn, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said breathlessly, trying to steady herself, adrenaline still pumping as she felt the sting of defeat sink in. “I… I’m sorry. I lost it. The car just—slipped.”

There was a pause on the other end, a moment that felt like judgment even through the crackling radio. “We’re glad you’re okay. We’ll get you back to the garage. We’ll review the data,” her engineer replied, his voice careful.

Yuki’s voice came through on her personal channel moments later, after seeing her crash on his onboard. “Yn? You alright?” His tone was laced with concern, stripped of the usual playfulness.

She swallowed, fighting the frustration building in her chest. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… pissed off.”

“You’ll be back next race,” he assured her, but she could only respond with silence. The shame of letting her team, her fans, and herself down weighed heavily on her.

In the post-race interview, Yn struggled to find the right words. The cameras focused on her, the flash of lights overwhelming as journalists fired questions, each one cutting a little deeper.

“Yn, it was a tough day. Do you think the pressure got to you out there?”

She clenched her fists, forcing a composed smile. “I don’t think it’s about pressure. Today just… wasn’t my day. The car was giving me some issues, and I did my best to control it. Sometimes, that’s just racing.”

“But after four races in the points, are you worried this is a sign of things to come?”

The question sliced through her like a knife, and she could feel the weight of the implication: that she was fragile, a fluke who’d just been lucky.

“No, I’m not worried,” she replied, her voice steady but tense. “One race doesn’t define my season. I’m here to compete, and I’ll be back even stronger next race.”

When the interviews ended, she caught Yuki’s eye across the paddock. He gave her a nod, a silent show of support that reminded her she wasn’t alone, even if it felt like she was carrying the world’s judgment on her shoulders.

The news coverage the next day was ruthless. Headlines screamed with exaggerated disappointment: “Yn Cracks Under Pressure?” and “First Female F1 Driver in Years Falters After Promising Start.” A few outlets were kinder, chalking up the crash to typical rookie mistakes and downplaying any concerns over her ability to handle the car. But most took the crash as an invitation to dissect her every move, doubting whether she could handle the demands of the sport.

Social media was ablaze, fans and critics alike chiming in, and Yn could barely stand to look. She knew this was part of the game, that everyone in F1 was under scrutiny, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that for her, the stakes were higher. Every failure she faced felt amplified, a reason for the world to question her right to be here.

Yuki called her that night, his voice calm and soothing against the chaos swirling around her.

“I’m just so pissed,” she admitted finally, her frustration cracking through her voice. “I wanted to prove that I belong here, and now… it feels like all anyone sees is this one mistake.”

“You know that’s not true,” he replied, a hint of warmth in his tone. “Everyone makes mistakes, even the greats. They’ve all crashed at some point. Don’t let them take that fire from you. Because once the season’s over, they’ll see what you’re made of.”

She took a shaky breath, comforted by his words. It was strange—she’d started this journey expecting every teammate to be a rival, another barrier to overcome. But in Yuki, she’d found someone who understood the relentless, hungry drive that fueled her, and who respected it.

The next morning, her team’s engineers ran a debrief, analyzing the telemetry and tire data from the crash. They assured her that she’d made the right call in pushing the car, that the twitchiness wasn’t imagined. Yn felt a flicker of relief; maybe she hadn’t just cracked under pressure, maybe it had been an unfortunate mix of circumstances. But no matter the reason, she knew she had to rise from this stronger than before.

It had been a long race, Jeddah was grueling and relentless, yet Yn had been on the verge of a breakthrough. She was fighting tooth and nail for P8, going wheel-to-wheel with Fernando Alonso in the final laps. She’d been holding her own, each move calculated, each corner taken with the precision she’d been honing for years. This was her shot, her chance to show everyone she wasn’t a fluke or a face in the crowd. She was ready to prove herself.

Then it happened.

They clashed in the final sector, both fighting for space. Fernando took the inside line, edging her out, and she, desperate to hold her position, stayed close, too close. Their wheels touched, and in a flash, her car lost stability, skidding and spinning before colliding with the barrier. The jolt left her breathless, her hands gripping the wheel as the rage took over.

Her engineer’s voice cracked through the radio. “Yn, are you okay? What happened?”

She clenched her jaw, trying to control the fury building up inside her. “That fucking guy, Alonso! He squeezed me—left me no room!” Her voice was shaking, frustration and adrenaline spilling over. “I had that position!”

There was a silence on the radio as they processed her words. “Copy, Yn. We saw the incident. Just stay calm.”

Stay calm? She’d given everything, and now, twice in a row, her race had ended in ruin.

After the race, Yn felt the press of cameras and microphones on her as she trudged toward the media pen. She could barely contain the frustration bubbling inside her, a storm barely held back as reporters closed in, questions already on their tongues.

“Yn, this is the second crash in a row. Are you feeling the pressure of Formula 1?”

“What’s your take on the incident with Alonso? Do you blame him?”

Yn took a steadying breath, but the calm she'd usually conjure wasn't there. “Look,” she said, voice tight, trying to keep her tone steady, “I know what happened out there, and Alonso gave me no space. I was holding my line, fighting for position like we all do. I’ll review the footage with the team, but if people think I can’t handle the pressure—they’re wrong.”

The next question felt even more loaded. “Is it challenging to maintain focus, given the scrutiny you’re under as the first female driver in years?”

She forced a smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m not here to be a spectacle; I’m here to race. Everyone’s under pressure in this sport. It’s what makes us competitors. The scrutiny just makes me hungrier.”

Her words were pointed, but she could already feel the twisting of her words forming in the reporters’ minds, their pens scratching away, headlines already buzzing to life in their notebooks.

The news the next morning was merciless. Some articles analyzed her crash with Alonso, calling it a “rookie miscalculation,” while others openly questioned whether Yn’s composure was “cracking” under the scrutiny. The worst were the opinion pieces, suggesting she might be better suited to junior categories if she couldn’t handle the rigors of F1.

Yuki found her in the paddock later that evening, her expression set as she packed up her things, clearly wanting to avoid any more eyes on her. He walked over, hands in his pockets, a gentle smile on his face.

“Hey,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. “Rough race out there. I saw the footage—Alonso really gave you no room.”

She shot him a look, her expression unreadable. “Thanks, Yuki, but I don’t need anyone to say it wasn’t my fault. I should’ve handled it better.”

“It wasn’t about fault,” he countered softly, unfazed by her edge. “It was a close fight. You held your ground. Besides, you’re doing something none of these people could even dream of.”

She let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shoving her race gloves into her bag. “Spare me the pep talk. I don’t need anyone’s sympathy. Especially not yours.”

He took a step closer, not backing down. “This isn’t sympathy, Yn. You’re one of the best rookies on the grid. Every one of us has crashed. I know what you’re going through, and I know how much you want this. But maybe don’t let their voices drown out what you already know—you deserve to be here.”

She wanted to tell him to stop, to remind him that it was different for her, that every mistake was fuel for those doubting her existence in this sport. But instead, she looked away, unable to bring herself to speak. She didn’t want to be seen as weak, as someone who needed reassurance.

Yuki sighed, catching the conflicted look in her eyes. “Alright,” he said quietly, his gaze softening. “Just… don’t forget that you’ve got people here who believe in you. No matter what the headlines say.”

She gave him a brief, reluctant nod, her voice a whisper. “Thanks, Yuki. But belief isn’t going to get me P8.” She turned and headed for the exit, leaving him behind as the words hung in the air, heavy with the reminder of just how high the stakes were.

Yuki knew things had changed since those days in the Red Bull junior program. Back then, it was just him and Yn, two kids pushing limits, sharing laughs and late nights studying data, feeling like the world wasn’t so big, like maybe they’d take it on together someday. She’d always been determined, sometimes stubbornly so, but she’d had that spark, that glint in her eye when she talked about F1 like it was the only thing that mattered. But now, standing at the pinnacle they’d dreamed of, Yuki could feel the distance growing between them, a wall she was building with every race, every misstep, every setback.

He tried to remind her of those lighter times, even when the racing got intense. On weekends, he’d linger in the garage with her, cracking jokes, trying to coax a laugh out of her, like they used to do after tough sessions back in Formula 2. But it felt different now. She had this look, as if there was a weight pressing on her that no amount of lightheartedness could lift.

The night after her crash with Alonso, Yuki tried again, catching up to her outside the paddock as she was leaving. “Hey!” he called, jogging to catch up. “Thought maybe we could grab a bite together. There’s this place nearby that serves ridiculous ramen—reminds me of the spot we’d hit after races.”

She hesitated, her gaze distant, before letting out a sigh. “Yuki, I’m tired. I just want to go back to the hotel and review the data. It was a messy race, and I don’t think I have much appetite.”

Yuki’s shoulders dropped, but he shrugged, forcing a smile. “We could just hang out, then. No data. Just us. I mean… it’s been a while since we’ve really relaxed, you know?”

She gave him a weary smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I appreciate it, really. But I need to focus. I can’t afford to mess up again, not with everything they’re saying.”

He could hear the bitterness in her voice, the resentment barely hidden beneath. It killed him to see her like this—so hardened, so guarded. She was always the toughest of the rookies, fearless, but now it seemed like her own passion had turned against her, trapping her in a never-ending battle against herself.

He tried again the next day, lingering by her side during their briefing, sending her a grin every chance he got, trying to bring back that easy dynamic they used to have. But it was like she was somewhere else, somewhere far away where his words couldn’t reach her. She’d nod along, respond, but always with that distracted air, her eyes flicking back to the screen, the telemetry, the data, anything but him.

By the time they were heading out after debrief, Yuki couldn’t hold back anymore. “Yn,” he said, his voice softer, catching her arm as she went to turn away. “I know you’re frustrated, I know it feels like everything’s on the line, but… this isn’t like you. You’re carrying everything on your shoulders alone. Let me be there, like we used to.”

For a moment, her expression softened, a glimpse of the Yn he remembered, the one who used to nudge him in the ribs and joke about who could get pole on the practice track. But it faded just as quickly, replaced by that same stony determination.

“I appreciate it, Yuki. But you don’t understand. It’s different for me.” She pulled her arm back gently, looking away. “Every mistake I make gives people more reasons to think I shouldn’t be here. Every crash, every missed point. Sympathy’s a knife in this sport, and I can’t afford to need anyone’s help. I just… I have to handle it.”

He let her words sink in, feeling the sting behind them, realizing that every race, every session was turning her into someone he barely recognized. But he understood, maybe better than she thought. Yuki knew that in F1, there were those who supported you, but there were also those who’d gladly let you fall, especially if you didn’t fit their mold.

“Maybe it’s different for you,” he said quietly, keeping his voice steady. “But you don’t have to do it alone. We’re teammates. We’re supposed to be here for each other. I’m… I’m supposed to be here for you.”

She looked up at him, and for a second, he thought he’d broken through. But she just shook her head, a faint, sad smile on her lips. “Thanks, Yuki. Really. But I need to be strong enough on my own. If I rely on anyone too much, they’ll use it against me. I have to prove myself, no matter what.”

Yuki watched as she turned away again, shoulders squared, that unyielding resolve back in her posture. He knew there was no convincing her, no getting her to see that it was okay to lean on someone every now and then, that it didn’t make her weak. But as she walked away, he felt the weight of her words settle on him, a sadness mingling with frustration. This wasn’t the Yn he knew—this was someone who felt like she had the world against her, like every race was a fight to justify her existence in F1.

Later that night, Yuki found himself with Pierre, staring at his untouched bowl of ramen, his mind churning. He’d always known Yn was strong, maybe even stronger than him in ways he didn’t fully understand. But it was painful to watch her shoulder that strength like a burden, pushing everyone else away, including him.

He thought about what he could say next time, some way to convince her that she didn’t have to do this alone, that he wasn’t there out of sympathy, but out of respect and genuine friendship. But deep down, he knew that as long as she felt the world’s expectations pressing down on her, she’d keep her guard up. For now, all he could do was be there, waiting, hoping that one day she’d let him in, let him remind her that even in the ruthless world of F1, there was room for someone who’d stand by her side, win or lose.

75 notes · View notes

lila-lou · 3 months ago

Text

✨Needy - Pt. 4/5✨

Summary: This is part 4 of "Needy"

Pairing: Jensen x PregnantReader

Warnings: ANGST!, Pregnant reader

Word Count: 4575

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

Once in the labor and delivery ward, the medical team sprang into action. They guided you to a delivery room, helped you onto the bed, and began monitoring your vitals and the baby’s heart rate. Jensen stayed close, his eyes filled with concern but his demeanor steady and reassuring.

The doctor on call arrived promptly, her face a mix of professionalism and empathy. “Hello, I’m Dr. Martinez”. She took a quick glance at the monitors and then turned her attention to you. “We’re going to take good care of you. I need to check a few things first”.

Dr. Martinez performed a thorough examination, her hands gentle but efficient. The monitors beeped softly in the background. Jensen stayed close, his hand tightly holding yours, offering silent support.

“You’ve done the right thing coming in”, Dr. Martinez reassured you both. “Since your water broke early, we’ll need to keep you here for close monitoring. We want to ensure both you and your baby are safe”.

You nodded, trying to process everything. The reality of the situation was daunting, but the doctor’s calm demeanor and Jensen’s unwavering presence gave you a semblance of reassurance.

As Dr. Martinez continued her examination, another sharp pain radiated through your abdomen. You gasped, gripping Jensen’s hand tighter. “Another contraction”, you managed to say, your voice strained.

Dr. Martinez’s expression remained focused but calm. “I can see that”, she said, her eyes on the monitor. “We’ll need to administer medication to help slow the contractions and steroids to help your baby’s lungs develop more quickly. The goal is to keep the baby inside for as long as possible to give them the best chance”.

The nurses moved swiftly, setting up an IV and preparing the necessary medications. The contraction slowly ebbed, leaving you exhausted and breathless. Jensen leaned in, his forehead gently pressing against yours. “You’re doing amazing”, he whispered, his voice filled with love and pride.

Dr. Martinez finished her examination and stepped back, giving you a reassuring smile. “We’re going to monitor you closely. The medications should help, but if you need anything or feel any changes, let us know immediately”.

The room settled into a quieter rhythm, the beeping of the monitors providing a steady background noise. The nurses adjusted your position to make you more comfortable and dimmed the lights slightly to create a more soothing environment.

Jensen sat beside you, his hand never leaving yours. Despite his obvious exhaustion, he remained focused on you, his eyes filled with unwavering support. “I’m right here”, he repeated softly, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of your hand.

The minutes passed slowly.

Despite the initial signs of hope, the contractions began to pick up again. You could see the worry in Jensen’s eyes each time you squeezed his hand tighter in pain. He stayed strong for you, his words of encouragement a lifeline in the midst of your fear and exhaustion.

Eventually, Dr. Martinez returned, her expression more serious this time. She approached the bed and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, but the medication isn’t working as well as we hoped. The contractions are continuing to progress”.

Your heart sank at her words, the reality of the situation hitting you hard. Jensen’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes filled with concern and determination. “What does this mean?”, he asked, his voice steady despite the fear you knew he was feeling.

Dr. Martinez took a deep breath, her demeanor calm and professional. “It means that we need to prepare for the possibility that your baby may come sooner than we planned. We’re going to do everything we can to ensure a safe delivery for both of you”.

Tears welled up in your eyes, the uncertainty of it all overwhelming. Jensen leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours. “We’re going to get through this”, he whispered, his voice filled with unwavering resolve. “You and me, together”.

Dr. Martinez continued, “We’ll increase the dosage of the steroids to help the baby’s lungs develop faster, and we’ll keep monitoring both of you very closely. But we’ll be ready for an early delivery”.

The medical team moved with renewed urgency, adjusting your medications and preparing for every possible outcome.

As the hours dragged on, you felt a mixture of fear and determination. The contractions were relentless, each one a stark reminder of how early it was for your baby to be born. But Jensen’s unwavering support and the professionalism of the medical team gave you the strength to keep going.

At noon, after hours of relentless contractions and mounting exhaustion, you finally managed to get some sleep. Jensen had been reluctant to leave your side, but you insisted he get something to eat and take a moment to rest. With a kiss on your forehead and a promise to be back soon, he reluctantly agreed.

As you drifted into an exhausted slumber, Jensen settled onto the couch in your room. Despite his fatigue, he remained vigilant, occasionally closing his eyes but never fully succumbing to sleep. The steady hum of the monitors and the gentle footsteps of the medical staff filled the room, a constant reminder of the careful watch being kept over you and your baby.

The hours passed quietly. The nurses switched shifts, seamlessly continuing the diligent monitoring of your condition. They moved around the room with practiced ease, checking your vitals and adjusting medications, all while ensuring you remained as comfortable as possible.

From time to time, you woke up briefly, the contractions piercing through your sleep. Each time, a nurse was there, her calm voice and gentle touch helping you navigate the pain. Jensen would rouse from his light doze, his eyes immediately finding yours, offering a reassuring smile before you both drifted back to a light sleep.

In the late afternoon, the contractions began to grow more intense and frequent again. You felt a sense of urgency building within you. As another wave of pain gripped your abdomen, you let out a soft moan, waking Jensen with it.

He was at your side in an instant, his hand enveloping yours.

Dr. Martinez entered the room, her expression serious but calm. “How are you feeling?”, she asked, her eyes assessing you and the monitors.

“The contractions are getting stronger”, you managed to say through gritted teeth.

Dr. Martinez nodded. “We’re going to check your progress”, she said, donning gloves and positioning herself to examine you. After a few moments, she looked up, her expression thoughtful. “You’re dilating more rapidly. We need to prepare for delivery”.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you sniffed, the reality of the situation hitting hard. “But it’s too early”, you said, your voice trembling with fear.

Dr. Martinez gave you a reassuring look, her eyes filled with empathy. “I understand how scary this is, but I want you to know that at 32 weeks, your baby is already quite developed. His lungs may need some support, but with the right care, he has a very good chance of doing well. We’re going to be monitoring both of you very closely”.

Jensen squeezed your hand, his presence a calming anchor in the storm of emotions swirling around you. “We’ve got this”, he whispered, his voice filled with determination.

The contractions grew stronger and stronger, each one a wave of intense pain that seemed to engulf you completely. Time seemed to blur, and before you knew it, it was already 11 p.m. The hours had slipped by in a haze of pain and determination.

Dr. Martinez returned, her expression focused as she examined you again. “You’re making progress”, she said, her voice calm but firm. “But it’s not quite enough yet. We need you to keep going, just a little longer”.

You felt utterly exhausted, your body weak from the relentless pain and the effort of labor. Tears of frustration and fear welled up in your eyes, and you looked to Jensen for support. He was right beside you, his eyes wide and alert despite the exhaustion etched on his face, fueled by the copious amounts of coffee he had consumed to stay awake and present for you.

“I know it’s hard, but you’re so strong. We’re almost there”. He brushed a strand of hair away from your sweaty forehead.

You nodded, trying to draw strength from his words and his unwavering presence. The pain was overwhelming, but you focused on your breathing, on Jensen’s hand holding yours, and on the knowledge that each contraction brought you closer to meeting your baby.

Minutes turned into what felt like hours, each contraction testing the limits of your endurance.

It was 2 a.m. when the nurses began to prepare the room for the imminent delivery. The atmosphere was charged with a mix of anticipation and professionalism. Medical supplies and equipment were carefully arranged, ready for any potential complications with your baby’s lungs, a precaution due to the early delivery.

Dr. Martinez entered the room once more, her presence a comforting constant amidst the chaos. She approached you with a calm, focused expression. “Let’s see how you’re progressing”, she said, her voice steady.

You were exhausted, every muscle in your body screaming with fatigue, but you managed a nod. Jensen’s hand tightened around yours, his eyes never leaving your face.

Dr. Martinez conducted her examination, her brow furrowing slightly as she assessed the situation. After a few moments, she looked up, her expression one of determination. “You’re fully dilated”, she announced. “It’s time to start pushing”.

The room buzzed with renewed energy as the medical team sprang into action. The nurses adjusted your position, making sure you were as comfortable as possible, while Dr. Martinez explained what would happen next.

“You’re doing great”, she said, her voice filled with encouragement. “I need you to focus on pushing with each contraction. We’re going to meet your baby soon”.

Jensen leaned in close, his face filled with love and determination. “You’ve got this”, he whispered, his voice unwavering.

You took a deep breath and prepared yourself. The next contraction hit with intense force, and you bore down, pushing with all your might.

“That’s it”, Dr. Martinez encouraged, her eyes focused and reassuring. “Keep going. You’re doing amazing”.

Time seemed to blur again, each contraction merging into the next. Jensen’s presence was a constant, his words of love and support giving you the strength to push through the pain and exhaustion. Every push brought you closer to your baby, the thought of finally holding him in your arms driving you forward.

The room was filled with the sounds of the medical team’s focused work, the steady beeping of monitors, and Jensen’s steady voice. “Almost there”, he kept saying, his eyes never leaving yours.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Dr. Martinez’s voice broke through the haze. “I can see the head”, she said, her tone filled with encouragement. “You’re doing it. Just a few more pushes”.

Tears streamed down your face as you continued to push, your body feeling like it had reached its limit. Your hand, now weak in Jensen’s, trembled with exhaustion. The pain was overwhelming, and despite the encouragement from the medical team and Jensen, you felt a wave of doubt and desperation wash over you.

“I can’t”, you whimpered, your voice breaking with the weight of your exhaustion and fear. “I can’t do it”.

Jensen’s heart broke seeing you in so much pain, but he knew he had to stay strong for you. He leaned in even closer, his forehead resting gently against yours, his eyes filled with unwavering determination and love.

“Yes, you can”, he whispered, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “You’re the strongest person I know. Our baby needs you, and I know you can do this. Just one more push, okay? We’re so close”.

Dr. Martinez added her calm encouragement. “You’re doing wonderfully. Your baby is almost here. Just one more big push”.

You took a deep, shaky breath, before you closed your eyes, focusing on the warmth of Jensen’s touch and the steady rhythm of his breathing. As the next contraction hit, you summoned every ounce of strength left in your body and pushed with all you had.

Despite giving everything you had, the next push wasn’t enough to bring your baby into the world. The exhaustion felt insurmountable, and you felt the weight of your efforts crashing down on you.

Dr. Martinez’s voice cut through the haze, calm yet encouraging. “That’s it, you’re doing great. We’re almost there”.

You could feel Jensen’s hand nearly crushed in your grip as you summoned every ounce of strength for the next round of pushes. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the sound of Dr. Martinez’s voice and the urgency of the moment.

“Push, push, push!”, Dr. Martinez urged gently but firmly, her words urging you onward.

With each push, you felt the strain in every muscle, the fatigue pushing against you like an unyielding force. But through the pain and exhaustion, the thought of meeting your baby fueled your determination.

“There’s the head!”, Dr. Martinez announced, her voice filled with encouragement. “Keep pushing, we’re almost there!”.

You felt a surge of adrenaline and pushed again, feeling the intense pressure as your baby’s head finally emerged. Every second felt like an eternity, the fatigue threatening to overwhelm you. But you kept pushing. And with after one powerful push, there was a sudden, incredible release of pressure, and you felt your baby slide into the world. The room was filled with a collective intake of breath.

But the momentary silence that followed was deafening. Your baby didn’t cry. He didn’t make a sound. Panic surged through you as Dr. Martinez and the neonatal team sprang into action.

“He’s not breathing”, Dr. Martinez said calmly, though you could hear the urgency in her voice. The nurses quickly took your baby to the neonatal table, their movements swift and precise. Jensen’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes wide with fear and concern.

“What’s happening?”, you whispered, your voice trembling. “Why isn’t he crying?”.

Jensen looked at you, his own fear barely contained. “They’re doing everything they can”, he said, trying to sound reassuring. “He’s in good hands”.

The seconds stretched into agonizing minutes as you watched the medical team work on your baby. They were administering oxygen and performing gentle chest compressions, their faces masks of professional concentration.

“Come on, little guy”, Jensen murmured, his voice breaking. “You can do this”.

Dr. Martinez continued her efforts, her calm demeanor never wavering. Then, after what felt like an eternity, a tiny, fragile cry pierced the air. It was weak, but it was there. Relief and joy surged through you, and tears streamed down your face.

Jensen exhaled a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, his gaze never leaving the tiny, fragile form of your baby. His hand trembled slightly as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

“He’s crying”, Jensen whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

The sound of your baby’s cry, though weak, filled the room. It was a beautiful, heartbreaking sound that tugged at your heartstrings. You looked at Jensen, his eyes reflecting the same mix of relief and concern that you felt.

The neonatal team continued their work, ensuring your baby was stable and breathing properly. Dr. Martinez moved back to your side, her expression reassuring. “He’s doing better now”.

Jensen’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes never leaving your baby. “He’s so small”, he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

As Dr. Martinez and the nurses moved to fix you up, cleaning and stitching where necessary, your eyes remained locked on your baby’s fragile form. The emotions swirling inside you were almost too heavy to bear, and silent tears streamed down your face. Jensen’s grip on your hand tightened, his thumb gently stroking your skin in a soothing gesture.

“He’s so so small”, Jensen murmured again, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and concern.

The nurses worked quickly and efficiently, ensuring that you were as comfortable as possible while also preparing your baby for the next steps in his care. The neonatal team continued to monitor his vital signs.

“When can I hold him?”, you asked shakily, your voice barely above a whisper. The need to hold your baby, to feel his warmth against your skin, was overwhelming.

Dr. Martinez looked at you with empathy. “We need to make sure he’s stable first”, she said gently. “But I promise, as soon as it’s safe, we’ll let you hold him”.

Your heart ached with longing, but you nodded, understanding the importance of your baby’s health and stability. Jensen leaned in closer, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “He’s going to be okay”, he whispered, his voice filled with conviction.

The minutes passed slowly as you and Jensen watched the medical team care for your son. Despite the initial scare, his cries grew a bit stronger, and his breathing became more regular. Each small sign of improvement filled you with hope.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, one of the neonatal nurses approached you with a gentle smile. “He’s doing better”, she said. “He’s stable enough for you to hold him for a little while”.

Tears of relief filled your eyes as the nurse carefully lifted your baby from the incubator and brought him over to you.

It was the first time both of you were able to truly look at him. The sight of your baby connected to tubes and monitors broke your heart even more. His tiny cries echoed softly in the room, a fragile reminder of his early arrival. But as the nurse carefully lifted him and brought him closer, his cries began to quiet.

The nurse gently lowered your hospital gown and placed his little body on your bare chest. His skin was warm and soft, and you barely felt his weight. At just 1750 grams and about 41 centimeters when stretched out, he was incredibly small. But right now, he was all curled up against your chest, seeking comfort and warmth.

The moment he made contact with you, his tiny body seemed to relax. His cries faded into soft, contented sounds, and he nestled into you, his little hands curling instinctively against your skin. Tears of overwhelming love and relief streamed down your face as you held him close, your heart swelling with a mixture of awe and protectiveness.

Jensen leaned in closer, his eyes shining with tears of joy as he looked at your son. “He’s beautiful”, he whispered.

You nodded, unable to find the words to express the depth of your emotions. You gently stroked your baby’s back, marveling at the softness of his skin and the tiny movements he made as he adjusted against you. His breathing, though aided by the tubes, seemed steadier now, and you could feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against yours.

“Hi, little one”, you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Welcome to the world”.

The nurse smiled warmly, her eyes reflecting the tender moment. “Skin-to-skin contact is very important”, she said softly. “It helps regulate his body temperature, heart rate, and breathing. You’re doing great”.

Dr. Martinez approached and looked down at you, her expression gentle yet optimistic. “He’s doing incredibly well”, she said, her voice filled with reassurance. “His lungs are stronger than we expected for a baby born at 32 weeks. If he continues to progress like this, we might be able to remove the tubes tomorrow”.

Relief and hope surged through you at her words. “Really?”, you asked, your voice trembling with emotion. “That’s amazing”.

Dr. Martinez nodded, a smile spreading across her face. “Yes, he’s a strong little boy. The initial struggles are common, but he’s responding well to the treatments and your care. We’ll monitor him closely, but I’m very optimistic”.

Jensen’s eyes shone with pride and joy. “Did you hear that, little guy?”, he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “You’re doing so well. We’re so proud of you”.

A few minutes later, a nurse spoke up. “I’m sorry, but we need to put him back in the incubator now”, she said gently. “He needs to stay warm and continue getting the support he needs”.

Jensen’s face showed a mix of longing and understanding. He hadn’t even had the chance to hold his son yet, and you could see the pain of that in his eyes. You gave him a small, reassuring smile, knowing that his time would come soon.

You looked down at your tiny son, savoring the last few moments before he had to go back to the incubator. “We love you so much”, you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Stay strong”.

The nurse carefully lifted your baby from your chest, and his tiny cries resumed briefly before he was settled back in the incubator. Despite the brief time you had held him, you felt a profound connection that gave you strength and hope.

You watched with tears in your eyes as they wheeled your baby away, the incubator providing a cocoon of warmth and safety. The sight of his tiny form surrounded by the equipment necessary to support his early arrival tugged at your heart, but you knew it was what he needed to grow stronger.

After a few moments, the nurses gently helped you into a wheelchair, preparing to take you to your room. Jensen was right by your side, his hand never leaving yours. You could see the worry etched on his face, despite his best efforts to hide it. He tried to maintain a calm and reassuring demeanor, but the disappointment and concern were clear in his eyes. He wanted nothing more than for his son to be healthy and for you to be happy.

As you were wheeled down the hall, Jensen stayed close. He helped you settle into your room, adjusting the blankets and making sure you were comfortable. His movements were gentle but filled with a restless energy, reflecting his inner turmoil.

Once you were settled, Jensen pulled a chair close to your bed and sat down, his eyes meeting yours. “How are you feeling?”, he asked softly, his voice tinged with concern.

“I’m okay”, you replied, though the exhaustion and emotional strain were evident in your voice. “Just…worried".

Jensen reached out and took your hand, squeezing it gently. “He’s a fighter”, he said, his voice filled with conviction. “He’s already shown us how strong he is. And the doctors and nurses here are incredible. They’re going to take great care of him”.

You nodded, trying to draw strength from his words. “I just wish we could hold him. It feels so hard to let him go back to the incubator”.

“I know”, Jensen said, his eyes reflecting the same longing. “I haven’t even had the chance to hold him yet. But we have to trust that this is what he needs right now. He’ll be in our arms soon enough”.

The minutes ticked by slowly, the room filled with a heavy silence as both of you processed the events of the day.

“I’m so proud of you”, Jensen said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence. “You’ve been so strong through all of this. I can’t imagine how hard it must be, but you’ve handled it with so much courage”.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, and you gave him a small, grateful smile.

Jensen leaned in and kissed your forehead tenderly. “Try to sleep, baby”, he whispered, his voice soothing and gentle. “He’s in good hands. We need to be strong for him”.

You nodded, knowing he was right, but the emotions swirling within you made it hard to relax. Jensen stayed by your side, his hand still holding yours, offering silent support. You closed your eyes, trying to let the exhaustion take over, but your mind kept drifting back to your son.

As you lay there, you felt Jensen’s presence next to you, a comforting anchor in the storm of emotions. His thumb gently traced circles on the back of your hand, a rhythmic and calming motion that gradually helped you drift closer to sleep.

The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the hospital equipment and the occasional distant sound from the hallways.

Despite the worry gnawing at your heart, the physical and emotional toll of the day eventually pulled you into a restless sleep.

Jensen stayed awake for a while longer, his eyes fixed on you as you slept. He brushed a stray tear from your cheek, his heart aching with the weight of his own emotions. He wanted nothing more than to see you and your baby boy healthy and happy.

Eventually, Jensen drifted asleep with his head resting beside you on the bed, his hand still holding yours. The emotional and physical exhaustion of the day had finally caught up to him, and despite his best efforts to stay vigilant, he succumbed to the need for rest.

After about an hour, the nurse returned to check your vitals. She moved quietly and efficiently, her practiced hands ensuring you were stable. As she looked over at Jensen, she saw him sleeping uncomfortably, his body awkwardly slumped over the side of the bed.

With a gentle smile, the nurse approached Jensen and softly touched his shoulder. “Mr. Ackles”, she whispered, her voice gentle and kind. “You should rest on the couch. You’ll be more comfortable there”.

Jensen stirred, blinking sleepily as he looked up at the nurse, then at you. He nodded, realizing she was right. “Thank you”, he mumbled, his voice hoarse with fatigue. He gently released your hand, making sure not to disturb you, and stood up.

The nurse helped him get settled on the small couch in the corner of the room. She adjusted a blanket over him and made sure he had a pillow for support. “Try to get some rest”, she said softly. “Your wife and baby need you strong and well-rested too”.

Jensen nodded gratefully, the weight of the day’s emotions still evident in his tired eyes. Even though you weren’t married, hearing the nurse refer to you as his wife stirred something inside him. It was a thought he had pondered before, but in that moment, the significance of it resonated deeply. However, he was too exhausted to dwell on it for long.

Within seconds, Jensen fell asleep on the couch, the blanket providing a small measure of comfort as he finally allowed himself to rest.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 5

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