#one of these days it’s not gonna be angst

[chrollohearttags]

love thy neighbor • r. sukuna

(Y/N) moves into an apartment complex on the other side of town and winds up living right next door to one of the most notorious drug dealers in the city nonetheless! But looks can be deceiving…

📝: black!fem plus size reader, plug!sukuna, age gap (6 years or so) mentions of toxic relationship and baby trapping, religious trauma, anxiety, alcohol + drug use, comfort + fluff and angst to smut, missionary, prone bone, oral sex, reader cries during, daddy is used a couple times, size difference, lots of kissing, positive affirmations, creampie

wc: 3.0K

🎙️: I swear imma get back to posting regularly! I’m just being lazy and hating my writing rn (it sucks) 😭 but I hope y’all enjoy

═✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿═══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

you didn’t know what to expect when you found yourself residing on the same floor as plug!sukuna..it was your first time living on your own. Fresh out of your parents’ house with minimal belongings and all of the savings you had managed to scrounge over the years. Enough to cover first and last month’s rent with some extra left over..working as a receptionist in a local doctors office by day and offering online tutoring services at night to suffice your income. You'd return home from your shift, ready to relax by at least eight o clock..meanwhile, plug!sukuna was just beginning his night. Heading out into the streets to do God knows what until the early morning hours. But he’d never leave until he’d done two things: said hello and made sure that you were straight. You never really understood the logic behind it..especially considering the fact that you weren’t exactly close friends or even acquaintances beforehand. Hell, he didn’t know you at all and yet, he was just as kind as an old lady bringing you cookies to welcome you to the neighboorhood.

nonetheless, plug!sukuna would always tell you “..keep that door locked, don’t answer that shit for nobody and call me if you need anything, aight?” his deep voice was the last voice you’d heard for the evening and the first when you awoke in the morning. Sometimes, he’d even bring you breakfast per your request and you’d eat together. You’d cut off all ties to your controlling, religious fanatic family and the narcissistic ex who’d all but attempted to stick you with a kid you didn’t want and turn you into his personal doll…trapped inside of the house with no purpose other than to serve him. It was the way all of the men in your former faith operated. But you weren’t interested. Not in the slightest. In fact, you wanted change so drastic, it’d make their goddamn heads spin! Over time, you’d grow closer to plug!sukuna. His second long check ins and warnings became full blown conversations as the two of you congregated downstairs in the pool area or at the mailbox for a cup of coffee. A cigarette dangling from his fingertips to go light once he went outside.

“I know this place seems nice and all from first glance but…imma let you in on a lil’ secret, baby. It’s all types of people who come here..looking for trouble and hell, I’m not gonna lie to you. I’m part of the reason. That’s why I tell you to keep your door locked. Your pretty ass answers for the wrong person and somebody is bound to try and take advantage. ‘Damn shame I’d have to fuck someone up if something were to happen to you..”

plug!sukuna was sweet and endearing in his own right. But that’s what drew you into him..he was the very antithesis to what you knew men to be. Brutally honest yet so empathetic to your feelings. Rough as hell around the edges but a total gentleman. He may have done horrible things but he was a good guy..the best damn one you’d ever met. Unbeknownst to him, you’d watch him from the window leaving out; others surrounding him in the parking lot in similar cars. Blacked out with tinted windows..doing sleight of hand to pass something to other tenants who you’d recognized. Only what you could assume to be drugs. A couple of the guys you’d recognized from church, talking to deacons and pastors..now it’d all made so much more sense. Even so, plug!sukuna kept you out of that part of his life as much as possible. Eventually, some months would pass and it was a secret to no one that you’d grown quite fond of him..damn near smitten even.

however, plug!sukuna was adamant on not taking it there with you! He’d admitted himself that you were beautiful and in another life, any other circumstances..he wouldn’t hesitate to make you his. The problem was, you were still too vulnerable and he was knee deep in a lifestyle he wanted you to steer clear from. You were healing from years of trauma and downright abuse..trying to navigate this world on your own. If he were any other scumbag, he could have easily sucked you into his world and had you out here doing his bidding.

“(Y/N) baby..do you know how many girls just like you..who leave bad situations and end up in worse ones because some nasty motherfucker saw how vulnerable they were and used that to their advantage? How many girls went from being in the church to being on their knees for some pimp? I care too much ‘bout you to let that happen. I’m no good for you, I swear. You’d only end up hurt because I can’t give you all of me. Shit, I can’t even promise I’d make a good boyfriend. I’m selfish as hell, I’m always gone..I’ve slept with more women than I can remember. What could you possibly want with somebody like me, huh? What could I possibly do for you, (y/n)?”

but you saw right through plug!sukuna’s facade. He was gentle at heart..a romantic even. He wanted his person to spoil and adore just as much as you did. The streets were his only love for most of his life. He’d seen many things but nothing quite like you..those round, doe eyes; so innocent and pure. Pouty lips, chubby cheeks and the soft, ringlet curls that surrounded that gorgeous face. That soft, plump body and those thighs that rubbed together when you walked away. He wanted to devour you whole sometimes..many nights had plug!sukuna lied in his bed next door, thinking of you being on top of him. Those perky breasts jiggling as he bounced you up and down on his cock. Those nails clawed at his chest as sweat poured down his skin. But those thoughts were far too lewd and disgusting for someone like you! He was ashamed of even having them. But he couldn’t help himself..especially when that sweet, airy voice all but begged him to take you.

“Because I love you, Ryo..I love everything about you. Even the bad shit. I don’t care what you do because it’s not who you are..you’re the man that brings me food and coffee in the morning so I don’t have to rush before work. You’re the man who kisses my forehead when he leaves because you know, deep down..it could be the last time I see you. You’re the man who calls me every time he hears a gunshot or sirens because he worries himself sick about me when I’m not near him. You carry my laundry baskets and groceries, you clean my apartment while I’m sleeping because I’m too tired. And not once have you ever tried to touch me. You never made me repay you with sex or anything. You could easily hurt me and you can’t even bring yourself to raise your voice, even when I’m dead fucking wrong. No one has ever cared about me that much, boyfriend or otherwise and I don’t give a damn if you sell drugs or blow up buildings. A man who’d do all of that for me and never asks for anything in return is exactly who I want.”

plug!sukuna found himself dumbstruck for the first time in a long time..standing there with your small hand cradling his chiseled jaw, tears streaming down your face, he’d find that his own eyes were welling and burning. He’d never heard anyone speak about him in such a way. “Damn, I guess you can read me like a book.” Hell, he’d never acted that way with anyone else either. Yet here he was, treating you like a princess. He couldn’t pretend anymore..he had to be honest with you..and himself.

“I—I love you too, (y/n). So much..”

“Then make me yours. Right now..right here.”

“you know once we do this, we can’t go back..”

“Please..leaving the past behind is kind of my thing.”

it didn’t take long for your lips to meet in a fiery haze, tongues intertwined in a moment of heated bliss. Your hands roaming one another’s bodies as moans slipped through..your clothes all but becoming discarded heaps on the living room floor like a movie scene cliche. His lips traced from your neck to your collarbone; slightly dredging his teeth along the skin in the process.

“Here, baby..take my hand.” plug!sukuna, in one fell swoop hoisted you into his arms as if you weighed practically next to nothing. Continuing to feed you those slow kisses, he’d carry you to a nearby wall and part your thighs. With your legs resting on his shoulders, he’d mark every inch of you. From your sensitive nipples which he cradled in his mouth to that pudgy tummy he loved so much to that juicy center, which was practically leaking for him.

“This all me? Just from some kissing?..” “This is nothing. I touch myself every night thinking about you..you should see the mess I make then.” plug!sukuna could barely sate his urges now, hearing how nasty this supposedly innocent girl was for him! He wasted no time slithering his tongue into that aching cunt. Swirling it around on that throbbing clit, spitting into those pretty pink folds and those succulent brown lips encasing them. He feasted like a man unhinged; greedy and selfish as fuck, just like he claimed. You’d grasp a hold of those dark reddish and black locks, grinding yourself into his face. Rubbing his nose in between your slit.

“Mmmph! Ryo…” “Yeah, fuck my face. Don’t hold back now. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do this.”

plug!sukuna would eat your pussy until he heard you sobbing and felt that orgasm come barreling out. Your tight hole spasming on air as those juices trickled down his throat, chest and mouth. He couldn’t help but to laugh as he watched you writhe in pleasure. Attempting to push him away as you rode out that orgasm.

“Wha—how did you?—“ “What? I told you..I’ve had a lot of practice.” Choosing to omit the fact that he’d fantasized about you sitting on his face more times than he could count. Tossing you a wink and one final lick before carting you over to the sofa. Where he laid you down gently against the cushions…pinning those legs back whilst hovering over you. The entire time, he couldn’t take his gaze away from those gorgeous eyes..they glimmered so bright. Full of lust, adoration and excitement. No matter how much you smiled, he always sensed a certain emptiness behind them. A light stolen from you and now, he hoped to reignite it.

observing your movements, plug!sukuna began to chuckle when he saw you pawing at his crotch. So eager to unsheathe that hard on from his boxers. He could tell that the shy, bashful demeanor you presented was only a front. If given the opportunity, he could turn you into his personal slut with ease..but for now, he wanted to focus solely on making love to you. Giving you every part of him that he’d long to for months now. You’d examine his chiseled torso, reaching up to caress his abs and trace your fingertips along his various tattoos. But you couldn’t distract yourself from how large that bulge was..protruding and leaking with precum…

“Can I?—“ Go ahead, baby..take it out.” And without hesitation, you’d tug that elastic waistband back and let it spring forth. He was so girthy and long. Clean shaven and although he was erect now, you could tell he was huge even when flaccid. Nonetheless, plug!sukuna grasped those thick thighs of yours and mounted in between them; gliding that aching tip along your folds. ”Now you tell me if it hurts, okay baby? If I see you flinch or look uncomfortable, I’m pulling the fuck out. We clear?” And you knew when he spoke, that was law. Nodding in agreement, you’d consent to his terms as you rubbed your folds, waiting for him.

“Good..and tap my arm if you can’t talk. I’m ‘bout to start moving. You ready?” with your permission, he’d glide in slowly and immediately, he thought he’d seen stars! Plug!sukuna, by his own volition, had been with countless girls. From strippers to models, but never had he felt pussy this tight! The warmth immediately cradling him and not letting go. He’d suck his teeth before muttering a single ‘fuck’ under his breath. You were going to be some pressure, he was certain of it. But he’d continue on, gathering his footing and working that cock into your entrance. A single pop, along with wet, squishing sounds rang out across that living room as you lie underneath him.

“Goddamn…your shit feels incredible, baby. I know you had some good pussy..I can tell just by looking at you.” Forcing a wide, toothy smile on your face. You’d never heard him talk so vulgar but it was the side you’d brought out. He was officially obsessed!

“Yeah? Well I’ve been wanting to give it to for so long..I never thought you’d fuck me..”

“I kept you waiting, huh? I’m sorry..guess it just means we gotta make up for lost time then, huh?”

plug!sukuna was thrilled to know that he’d no longer have to hold back because you were on the same wavelength. You’d have no issues matching his energy..so with that, he’d speed up those thrusts. Pounding you with gentle but well paced strokes. The sound of your thighs and skin slamming together, coupled with the sounds of both your moans, made for a beautiful chorus. Your hands around his neck, scratching at his back; legs around his waist and his muscular arms planted right at your sides. Drilling you just as you’d requested and there was no limits between the two of you.

“Yes! Keep fucking meeee..oh my goodness. I’m gonna come again!”

“You’re so fucking cute..damn..” adoring how you sounded squealing and laughing as you met his thrusts. He couldn’t believe how receptive you were and how it took no time at all for you to open up.

“And you look so pretty taking all this dick for daddy. I can’t stop staring at you.” That deep voice showering you with praise as his thick cock thrashed around your insides. Even though you had always been a bigger girl, he made you feel so dainty and small..like a precious treasure he never wanted to lose. “You deserve this, baby..to get fucked just like this. To be spoiled and get whatever you want. I can put you up..you ain’t ever gotta worry about shit. Not a bill, not rent, your family..I got you, baby. I promise. I love you..” You believed every single word and clung to them with every fiber you had. You’d never had anyone treat you with such grace and care before..and that wasn’t the end. He’d continue doting. Telling you how proud he was of you and how far you'd come. How he admired your strength to get out of your situation…he was in awe. plug!sukuna would continue singing your praises until he looked up and spotted tears coming down your face. He was tempted to stop until you told him that you were just fine. He on the other hand..was struggling to maintain his stamina.

“No no..please don’t stop. You just make me feel so good. No one has ever fucked me like this.”

but that alone seemed to ignite a second wind and in a moment of haste, you’d find yourself flipped over into your stomach with his entire body weight shifted on top of you.

“You mean that, baby?” Those outer fangs of his teeth glistening and mouth slicked with saliva as he began pounding you once more..hands pinned to your back and his frame covering your own. The plumpness of that ass ricocheting off of him as he penetrated those walls. You’d come once again, dripping onto the leather couch and making that aforementioned mess he’d been dying to see. This time, his pace was rougher..less structured and sporadic. He couldn’t help it..he was running on pure fumes, trying to give you the first time experience you deserved. Tugging your head back by those thick curls, plug!sukuna fed you the deeper strokes he could muster until those chocolate eyes rolled back.

“Y-yes! This dick is amazing..”

“Tell me who it belongs to. Who’s this good pussy belong to now?”

“Y-you, daddy. It’s yours! Oh fuck..”

never having uttered such lewd words in your entire life, you reveled in the fact that he had been the one to bring this side out. And now, you were about to bring a side out of him. One far more vulnerable than the public witnessed..one that would beg you to let him come inside of you and cry out your name in sweet ecstasy as he did so. You’d feel those warm seeds pouring into your womb as he came to a halt and you welcomed them. plug!sukuna didn’t hesitate to swaddle you in his arms for kisses and comfort.

“I don’t want this to end..tell me it doesn’t have to, Ryo. Can we be this way forever?”

“We can stay like this for as long as you want, baby. I’m not going anywhere.“

and it was a promise he intended to keep. Not just as your neighbor or the guy next door looking over you. But now, as your lover and the man who’d never leave your side.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

i love your work sm!! could i request something with nerd!rafe? like reader never normally wears her glasses, so she decides to put them on while she reads and gets insecure and rafe comforts her?

beautiful with them.

NERD!RAFE MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: insecurities w/ glasses, angst to comfort

A/N: thank you sm! LOVE THIS. agh so sweet.

You flipped through the pages with anticipation, your eyes darting over the sentences. The world around you faded into the background, the rustle of the pages the only sound you heard. It wasn’t until you caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of your eye that you realized Rafe had entered the room, leaning against the doorway.

As your gaze caught him entering the room, your eyes widened in surprise. You fumbled to remove the glasses that sat on your face, the frames slipping through your fingers as you set them aside. The suddenness of your actions caught him off guard, a look of confusion flickering across his face, but he dismissed it as he stepped toward you. A warm smile graced his lips as he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours.

“Hi, baby.” He murmured against your lips.

“Hi.” You breathed out. “You’re home early.” You noted, him moving away, putting the briefcase on the bed as he shoved off his suit jacket.

“Meeting finished early, and I was free the rest of the day.” He replied, you nodding, glancing down at your book and your glasses. “What have you been doin’ all day?” He asked you.

“Reading, mostly.” You replied, him letting out a chuckle.

“I thought so.”

Even though he’s seen you read so many times, you always wore your contacts. He’s never really seen you with your glasses. And if he has, it’s been only a few times.

You glanced back down at the glasses, and then back at him. He was taking off his clothes, changing into sweatpants and a baggy shirt.

He sat on the bed, phone in hand. He got comfortable, settling underneath the covers as he began his scrolling.

You turned back in your seat, putting your glasses back on and making sure you were facing away from him as you began to read again.

About thirty minutes passed when he stood up, making his way to the door. You moved your hand, resting your head on your palms as an attempt to hide the frames on your face.

He came back in with two cups of water in his hand, coming back over to your desk with them. He leaned against the desk, offering one of the cups to you.

You took off your glasses, looking back at him for a moment. You gave him a small smile, and he gave you one back.

“You know,” he rasped out. “I like you with your glasses on.”

Your cheeks warmed under his gaze, smile faltering.

He picked them up in his hands, going to put them over your face when you gently grabbed his wrist, wrapping your fingers around it.

You plucked them from his hands, him quirking an eyebrow.

“Thank you.” You replied quietly, setting them back onto the desk.

“Why don’t you wear them?” He asked you, and you knew he was gonna keep pressing until he found out, because that’s just how he is.

You hesitated before answering, “I just… I don’t like how they look on me.” You admitted softly, avoiding his gaze. “It’s why I wear the contacts.”

There was a flicker of sadness on his face, watching you with a visible frown. He knows how you felt, because he’s thought the same thing about his own when he was younger.

“Well, I think they look good on you. You wear them better than me.” He spoke honestly, you letting out a chuckle, thinking he was joking.

“Stop.” You told him, but he didn’t, instead, he reached for your face.

He gently grabbed your jaw, making you look up at him. With his other hand, he grabbed your glasses.

He let go of your jaw, and put both hands on the glasses, before moving your hair, putting the lens over your eyes, and tucking the tips of the glasses behind your ears.

“I’m serious. Maybe you can’t see it, but you really do look beautiful with them on. You were beautiful without them, and you’re beautiful with them.” He told you, holding your face in his hands.

“You really think so?” You asked him quietly, to which he nodded, removing his hands from your face.

“I think, that you should wear them more, if anything.”

He watched the corners of your lips quirk up, small smile making its way onto your face. He leaned down again, and cupped your face once more, pressing his lips softly against yours, both of your glasses clashing as he did so, causing him to look at you, both of you beginning to laugh together.

You settled for putting your foreheads together, soft giggles still escaping your mouth as he smiled at you.

“Thank you.” You told him quietly.

“Course.” He responded in the same quiet volume, “If I didn’t say something, what kind of fiancée would I be, hm?” He hummed out.

Taglist:

@10ava01 @mileyraes @moonssyrup @koibleufish @anamiad00msday @wearemadeofstardust0 @wintertxt @teenwolfbitches28

[holdmytesseract]

Hii! It’s me again, back at it with another request (your writing is just so good! I can’t get enough of it).

So this is another dad!Daryl one, one where the reader is pregnant. So we know that some of the Saviours in season 9 didn’t particularly like Daryl because of everything that happened. What if a couple of the Saviours cornered the reader and kidnapped her, taking her to some place to keep her in. Daryl, naturally, is seeing red and will do just about anything to get her back. Angst with a happy ending.

Love you if you write this, love you if you don’t! 💜

What I do, I do for You

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: When two Saviors kidnap you - Daryl's pregnant wife - in order to score him off, the archer sees red and does everything to safe you... Everything.

Set in Season 9!

Warnings: Lots of bad stuff is happening, so please act with caution! usual TWD stuff, a lot of angst, pregnancy stuff, violence, blood, character death, murder, brief mentions of rape, FLUFF, Justin & Jed (yep, they're a warning), please tell me if I missed something!

Also, protective!Daryl alert. He goes absolutely feral.

Word Count: 6.9k

a/n: @dixons-sunshine I really hope that I could do your request justice. 🙏🏼 I loved to write it and tried to give my absolute best. 🧡

EoH Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"Ya sure 'bout that?" Your husband asked with a tinge of concern and fear in his voice. "Ya really wanna come?" You gave him a smile and stepped closer; invading his space. "Positive. I am drop-dead serious about it," you announced and raised your hands to his chest; adjusting the lapels of his angel-winged vest. "I absolutely hate it when you're away and I'm alone in Alexandria... Especially now..." Your gaze fell onto your yet small baby bump; Daryl's blue-greyish eyes following.

He couldn't suppress the soft smile on his lips, neither the quickening of his heartbeat. The man who had lost more in his whole life than he had won, had still a hard time to believe that he actually wasn't dreaming. That this was real. You. The 'wedding band' around your ring finger. The life he was granted to spend with you. Or hence, the new life growing inside you. Him, becoming a father. It was too good to be true. Daryl had to pinch himself on a regular basis, and still questioned himself how a man like him deserved something so precious. Luckily, you were always here to erase the bad thoughts ghosting through his mind... And to remember him how valuable he was to you - and to all the people around you whom you called family.

"A'right. 'M gonna take ya with me to the Sanctuary. Yer maybe right. Best way ta protect ya 's keepin' ya close to me I s'ppose," he agreed in the end and leaned forward to bestow a lingering kiss on your forehead. You smiled. "Thank you so much, baby. You won't regret it, I swear."

"I know, sunshine," he finally answered; his voice huskily with emotion. From the both hands resting on your hips traveled one to the front of your body; gently cupping the bump which was his child. "But 'm not sure..." You pouted. "Please, Dar... I don't want to miss you... And we both know I'd be the safest within your presence."

The archer chewed on the inside of his bottom lip for a long moment; contemplating his next words.

Oh, how wrong the both were going to be...

Barely two days later, you and Daryl made your way to the Sanctuary. Not on his bike, though. The archer had made that clear the moment you and him left the basement apartment you called home. "Hell nah. We ain't takin' the bike. 'S outta question. 'Specially in yer condition," your husband had said, causing you to roll your eyes with a smile. Sure, you understood him and got his point, but you were also aware that this wasn't a 'condition'. You were pregnant. Not sick. And besides, not even that far along. About four months was Siddiq's guess.

Of course, you hadn't even tried to reason with the archer; knowing already that you'd fight a battle you couldn't win. So, you had followed him without a word to one of Alexandria's cars - certainly not horse; Daryl would rather walk than riding on a horseback, even if it would take him days to get to his destination on foot - and were now comfortably seated in the passenger seat. Daryl steered the car to the place you actually still despised deep down in your heart; not having forgotten the things Negan and the Saviors had done. What they had taken and almost took from you.

A few former Saviors were out and about. Most of them tending to the crops and other things planted in the makeshift gardens. The lot of them greeted you and Daryl with respect; some even gave a smile, but others... If looks could kill. The coldness and hate in theirs eyes sent a shiver down your spine. Of course you knew that some Saviors didn't quite... appreciate the mercy you showed them, neither the things you did for them. They were still hanging on to Negan. Daryl knew as well - and he didn't tolerate them. Unfortunately, he had to. At the end of the day, he bent and listened to his brother; being faithful and loyal.

You passed by lots of beautiful places on your way; proofs that mother nature had taken back what belonged to her. But you also saw a lot of rotting corpses trudging and staggering down the abandoned streets, meadows and woods. Life and death battling over the world domination. Nobody would've seen it coming that the line between decay and reincarnation was going to be that thin at some point - and here we were.

"Ya a'right, sunshine?" Daryl's deep, but comforting and definitely slightly worried voice urged suddenly to your ears. You blinked and tried to refocus again. You didn't notice that you had your head in the clouds; lost in thoughts. Neither did you notice that Daryl had parked and turned off the engine of the car. "Uh, yeah, sure. Sorry. Just spaced out a bit." Daryl nodded and gave you a last look, before he opened the car door and moved to get out of his seat. "C'mon. We're here."

It was strange to be back at the Sanctuary. Only the mere look at the huge, old factory caused an uneasy feeling to spread within your stomach. And you could tell that Daryl wasn't quite at ease either. How could he? After all he had to go through here... After all the traumatizing experiences...

"Daryl." A blond woman approached the two of you. Your eyes scanned her face; realizing that you knew her. Laura - if you remembered correctly. The archer jutted his chin into her direction; silently addressing her. The both of them started to talk. Something about the crops and an incident with a 'living' walker as a scarecrow. You didn't pay fully attention to your husband and the former Savior, since you could clearly feel a pair of eyes on you. In search for them, you looked to your left; meeting eyes with a man. Tall, longer black hair and a beard. He was quite a few yards away from you but you could clearly tell that he was the one watching you.

You blinked and waved it off. It was most likely 'cause he had never seen you before.

"Let's get our stuff inside. 'S gettin' dark soon." Your husband's voice caused you to redirect your attention. "Yeah..." You nodded; still a bit absentmindedly, and followed Daryl inside the building.

He led you down several corridors, until you reached a spacious room with a bed, attached bathroom and a few other basic things. While Daryl put down his backpack and your bag alongside his beloved crossbow, you sat down on the bed; feeling a dull ache in your feet. "Ya okay, darlin'?" Of course, Daryl noticed immediately. His senses seemed to be even sharper since you told him about the pregnancy. You nodded. "Sure, Dar. Just some swollen feet." He gave you one of those cute, little smiles you adored so much. "Guess yer in for a foot rub tonight then."

It was the fourth day you spent at the Sanctuary. Daryl tried his best to be around you as much as somehow possible, but unfortunately, there was a lot of work to do for the 'leader'. So, you just decided to stay around him. Luckily, you had a few books packed and you'd always find a comfortable seat - no matter where. You just felt safer when your husband was close, and you could tell that it was much appreciated by him that he could throw a watchful eye on you from time to time.

Daryl wasn't the only one who had his eyes on you, though... Day after day, you could feel the unpleasant stare of that man who already had watched you at the day you set foot here... Justin, like you got to know. He didn't let a single opportunity slip to eye you. It was highly uncomfortable and quite confusing. You didn't know why he was doing what he did. It wasn't like you knew each other. You never even had exchanged a single word! Yet he was always looking... And when you'd catch him, he just gave you a little smirk - what didn't make you feel any better.

After day two, you just accepted it and tried to brush it off and ignore it. You didn't dare to confront the man. If you weren't pregnant, you wouldn't have even give it a second thought and walked straight up to your 'stalker', but... You were pregnant and didn't want to risk anything.

And telling Daryl wasn't an option in your eyes either. He was already so occupied and definitely way more on edge now that he was back at this former hellhole. This wouldn't end well; you knew it.

"You gotta come! Reilly and Mark are fighting. They're yelling at each other like kindergartners!" Daryl scoffed. "Dun care. They can handle their shit alone." The Savior standing opposite you frantically shook his head. "Man, if you don't intervene, this is gonna escalate! They're gonna beat each other up - or worse! You know how they are!" The archer groaned and rolled his eyes. Unfortunately was that idiot right. He couldn't let this escalate, even if he didn't care if it did. He had silently promised Rick to keep this place sane and running, so... "Fine," he finally answered, and turned to you. "Ya gonna find the way alone, sunshine?" You nodded, and placed a hand on his chest with a soft smile. "Of course. Go. I'll be waiting for you in bed. I'm tired." Your husband nodded and gave your hip a soft squeeze; an apologizing look on his face. He didn't want to leave you alone - but knew he had to. Turning on his heel, he followed the Savior and vanished around the corner.

"Dixon!" You flinched at the sudden, unanticipated voice of a man echoing down the corridor you and Daryl just walked through. You were actually on your way back to your room; ready to call it a day. Well, apparently not...

The archer stopped and turned; you both witnessing Dean - a Savior, of course, sprint around the corner. "Dixon!" "Wha'?" Daryl snarled in annoyance. He have had enough of that day. All he wanted was to disappear in that room and not leave it - and you, until tomorrow.

"Hello, Y/N."

You sighed and gazed behind you down the empty corridor, as you felt a flutter within your belly. You smiled; placing a palm underneath your baby bump, which was well hidden since you wore way too big, but comfortable clothes from the day you got here. "I know, munchkin. Daddy's gonna be back soon. Let's go to bed. We could both use some sleep," you talked to your unborn baby quietly; the smile never leaving your lips.

Everything was eerily quiet. Well, no wonder. It was quite late and most of the Saviors were already sleep, you reckoned. Hopefully me too, soon, you thought; pushing down the door handle and opening the door to yours and Daryl's room. You switched on the light - thanks to the generators.

An unknown voice suddenly urged to your ears; causing you to flinch and almost stumble right back out of the room again. You spun around to seek out the origin of the voice; finding the man who had watched you for days sitting on that one chair in the corner of the room with a smirk on his face. You swallowed hard.

"Justin, right?" You tried to sound brave, even though you had a very uneasy feeling brewing within your gut. "What are you doing here? Can I, um, help you?"

Justin's smirk widened. "Oh yes, indeed. You can help me... Close the door, love. I wanna talk." You did what he said and slowly closed the door, but your hand kept gripping the handle - just in case.

"I have never see you before," he started. "Surely we both crossed paths before without knowing - blame it to the war." "Most likely, yeah..." You answered. Justin shook his head and let his eyes wander over your body again. You felt like a piece of meat. "You're a true sight for sore eyes, Y/N... What a shame..." You frowned. "Shame?" The black haired man nodded. "It's a shame you have such low standards and waste your time on a man like Dixon. You are his girl, aren't you?" Your frown deepened at his words; feeling anger bubble up inside you.

Just as you wanted to speak up, the Savior cut you off. "Or... Wait... Are you just his little toy? An occasional fuck? God, how pathetic," he laughed to himself. "What do you get in return? Protection? Food? A shelter? Or are you doing it for free? His dick that good?"

Your jaw almost dropped at the foul words leaving Justin's mouth. He definitely went to far. You've had enough. Nobody threw mud at Daryl like that. Nobody. You were not having it.

"I'm his wife! I-" "His wife?" Justin cut you off once more; laughing. "So this is some serious shit, huh? Wow... Never thought a guy like Dixon could pull such a hot girl like you. You're too good for him, you know," the man said with a dramatic sigh and pulled himself up from the chair. With calculated steps, he crossed the room - and the predatory smirk he wore on his lips, made you feel even more uneasy than you already felt. "You certainly deserve..." Justin licked his lips. "...better."

The Saviors eyes widened, "Fucking hell... He... He knocked you up?" and he laughed. "You're dumber than I thought." Justin shook his head; still smiling amused. "We're witnessing the fucking end of this shit show called life," he gestured around himself. "And you don't know better than get pregnant with that asshole's bastard child."

You swallowed hard and took a step back, feeling your back pressing against the door; grip on the handle still painfully tight. "N-No, I don't. Daryl is more than enough. H-He treats me right." "He treats you right?" Justin asked mockingly, "Aww, how cute." and chuckled. "What if I told you that other men could treat you so much better?" He whispered in a low voice and reached out a hand to cup your chin with his thumb and forefinger.

Your heartbeat quickened; pumping adrenaline through your whole body in fear. Your primal instinct to run already knocked against the door to your brain, but another instinct was stronger just yet... Protecting your baby. So, out of instinct, your free arm wrapped around your baby bump, before you could even stop yourself - and it didn't escape Justin's notice, of course. Your well kept secret suddenly wasn't a secret anymore.

The last sentence was the straw that broke the camel's back. Insulting the husband of an expectant mother wasn't wise. But insulting the child of an expectant mother was suicide.

It was the whistle which sealed your fate.

Before the rational part of your brain could intervene, did your palm already collide with Justin's cheek; slapping him hard.

A soft groan of pain left his lips as he stumbled back. His hand immediately rubbing the now stinging skin. "You bitch!" The Savior exclaimed angrily. "Alright, that's enough." Justin stomped back over to you and already reached out his hand to grasp your wrist, but your instincts kicked in again. This time, they told you to run. So, you did.

Quickly opening the door, you stormed outside and wanted to flee - but you unfortunately didn't get far.

Suddenly another Savior appeared in the corridor ahead of you - and you immediately stopped. Frantically turning around and searching reverently for a way to escape, you soon figured out that there was no way out. One man in front of you, Justin coming up behind you. And in the blink of an eye, you found yourself in the same situation like seconds earlier - just that it was way worse now. Pressed against the wall; trying to shield your unborn child from any possible harm and danger. "P-Please, don't p-please..." You begged for mercy, but it was no use. The men just laughed; having you cornered. "Not so brave anymore, are we?" Justin snickered. Tears stung your eyes. "T-The baby, p-please..." You whispered through tears; feeling your knees buckle and almost give in from underneath you. Silently, you prayed to every God and higher force, that Daryl would walk around the corner now.

He didn't.

"Get her. We're gonna make that asshole pay." It was the last thing you heard, before the other man lashed out. You felt a throbbing pain in your skull and within seconds went everything black.

Grumbling in annoyance, Daryl made his way finally back to yours and his quarters. To solve the stupid, boyish conflict between those two primitive idiots took longer than he thought it would. It got him even more tired than he already was. All the archer wanted was to sleep with you safely in his arms.

However, when he reached your shared room he found the door ajar; causing his heart rate to quicken on an instant. Without wasting even a second, he literally stormed in - only to find the room empty and deafeningly quiet.

"Y/N?!" He called out, but didn't receive an answer. "Y/N?!" In a frenzy of panic, Daryl started to search for you. To his sheer horror, he couldn't find you. Fear and the nagging feeling of guilt and failure already eating away at him. He swore to protect you. You felt safe whenever he was around - and now he had failed you; failed to protect you and his unborn child. Whatever happened to you, Daryl could tell that it wasn't something good. This was the Sanctuary, after all. This hellhole was worse than what laid behind the gates.

Nevertheless, he hoped to find you unscathed, and that all of this was just a big misunderstanding.

Of course... He should've think of that. Jed was - among a few others - a Savior, who didn't quite like how things went down. Negan being defeated... Rick's plan to 'convert' them to be better people... Daryl taking over the Sanctuary... It didn't suit their plans. Daryl knew they hated it - and they hated him. So, why wouldn't Jed - or hence, any of them, do something to get at him? And what was the best way to inflict pain to somebody? Exactly. By hurting someone the person loves.

Life didn't treat the archer kind - of course. You were nowhere to be found. Not in the kitchens, the sanitary rooms, nor the common room; his next destination being the gardens.

"Daryl?" A female voice suddenly urged to his ears - not yours, though. So, he simply ignored it. "Daryl?" Laura stepped into his view. She was on watch and saw her visibly distraught 'leader'. "What the hell is wrong? You run around like a mad man. What are you looking for?"

The archer froze in his movements for a moment; breathing labored. "Y/N. Can't find 'er. Somethin' happened to 'er. Someone took 'er. I'm sure 'a it," he spoke in a low, deep voice. Threateningly. "Ya know somethin' I should know?" Eyes full of a anger were staring the Savior woman down. And Laura knew that this wasn't a version of Daryl you wanted to get yourself into a fight with.

"Not really, no, but..." She frowned; seemed to recall something in her memory. "I saw Jed hanging around in the hallway of your room this afternoon." The archer clenched his jaw.

He shouldn't have let you accompany him.

"Daryl?" Laura's voice ripped him out of his thoughts. The archer wanted to answer, but all he saw was red. He stormed off; driven by anger, fear and the urge to protect what was his - the most important one of the few good things in his life.

Without any unnecessary detours, Daryl went straight for Jed's room. Not even blinking, he barged through the door; slamming it shut behind him and causing the Savior, who was just about to get changed for the night to flinch badly. Jed spun around; his eyes landing on Daryl. "What the hell, Dixon?!" He complained; not noticing the hands of the archer, which were curled into fists, nor the rage in his blue-grey eyes. "Fuck off! This isn't your-" Before Jed was even able to finish his sentence, had Daryl already crossed the distance with three big steps and grabbed the Savior by the lapels of his shirt; pinning him against the wall. Sure, Jed was strong - but not as strong as the bulky archer. Plus, the momentum was clearly on Daryl's side, since he had caught him by surprise.

Daryl growled lowly in his throat. It wasn't a warning. It was a threat.

"What-" "Shut yer damn mouth 'n tell me where she is," Daryl growled; accentuating his words with pushing Jed a little harder and caging him entirely between the wall and his broad frame.

The man scoffed and pawed - in vain - at Daryl's bare forearms and the bulging veins and muscles located there; trying to free himself. "What the fuck are you talking about, Dixon?!"

"Ya ain't fuckin' with me, asshole. Ya know exactly what 'm talkin' about." His grip on Jed's shirt lapels tightened. "Where is my wife," Daryl punctuated every single word. The Savior glared into the archer's eyes for a moment, before he scoffed once again. "I have absolutely no clue where your little whore is! Perhaps she ran off and found a better dick than your-" Daryl had enough of the bullshit Jed was giving him. Without even letting him finish his sentence, Daryl pulled him away from the wall and threw him harshly to the hard ground. "Dun'cha dare talk about Y/N like tha'." His voice was deep and quiet, but not lacking with danger. "And now tell me where she is." "I told you, I don't know!" Jed tried to defend himself further, but Daryl knew he lied. He could feel it.

"A'right. Then we gonna do this the hard way," Daryl stated and lunged at Jed; fists connecting with the man's jaw and stomach. Jed fought back, of course, landing a few blows himself. Their bodies hit the floor multiple times. Blood flew, bones cracked and furniture got destroyed and wrecked as both men were fighting for the upper hand. In the end, though, had Daryl clear advantage over Jed. He was the more skilled and stronger fighter, and had the Savior snugly wrapped up in a chokehold. "'M gonna find 'er anyways," Daryl grunted; panting and being out of breath. "'N I dun care 'bout how many of yer assholes I gotta go through. I'll kill every damn one of ya if tha's what's it gonna take," he snarled and tightened his deathly grip around Jed's neck; his biceps bulging. "So, do yerself a damn favor 'n tell me where the hell she is!" "Fuck you!" was all Jed answered. The archer growled once again and squeezed, which caused the man to gasp and flail; helplessly trying to escape.

Only when Jed was on the verge of passing out, did he decide to finally cooperate. "Alright, alright!" He spluttered and choked. "I'm gonna tell you!" Daryl loosened his grip, and Jed frantically gasped for air. "S-She... She's in one... one of t-the cells..." The man coughed; still trying to get air back into his lungs.

The Savior didn't have to say more. Daryl knew what - or well, where he meant. "Try anythin' stupid, I'll kill ya," the crossbow-wielding archer warned Jed and gave him last death glare, before he left him on the floor in his room with bruises already forming on his neck.

This ain't 'bout me, damnit, he reminded himself. I gotta keep my wife 'n baby safe.

A lump formed in Daryl's throat as he made his way to the 'cells'. An area he thought he'd never ever in his life set foot in again. Being back at the Sanctuary was bad enough, but the mere thought of going there was even worse. It caused his stomach to flip. He could've thrown up all over the floor if he had let himself...

It still looked the same like back when he was imprisoned. The same way too squeaky clean floors. The same doors leading into the same rooms. The only difference was the infirmary, which had been moved to another part of the other building. But except that... Everything was the same. Daryl had to take a deep breath and close his eyes for a moment to keep his shit together and save himself from an approaching panic attack. His labored breath, shaky hands and the forming sweat on his skin a clear indicator.

"Y/N?" Daryl whisper-shouted; hoping to be close to you and receive an answer. He didn't. The archer had to go a little further to find you, and now that he was standing in front of one particular room with his heart almost breaking free of his ribcage; getting to know that it was locked as he twisted the door knob, realization dawned on him. Of course they'd lock her up here, Daryl thought as he eyed the way too familiar door. That was a part of the sick game they played.

With another deep breath, Daryl fought against the traumatic thoughts which wanted to push themselves to the forefront of his brain and shoved them aside; locking them away and focusing on you.

Precautionary, he freed his knife from its sheath and sneaked down the corridors; checking every room. After all, he didn't know who or what awaited him. Storming into this blindly wasn't probably the best idea, since he was convinced that Jed didn't do this alone.

Clenching his jaw, he had to fight another panic attack; even going as far to cut himself with the knife in his shaking hand, in the hopes that the pain would redirect the attention of his brain. A small grunt of pain escaped his lips as the red liquid dripped down his arm.

"H-Hello?"

His desperate action got interrupted by a soft, weak voice coming from the other side of the door; causing the archer's knife to clatter to the floor and a relieved, shaky breath to leave his throat.

"Y/N?!"

The answer came promptly.

"O-Oh my gosh, D-Daryl! I-It's locked, a-and I can't move, I-" "I know, sunshine, I know. Dun worry, 'kay? 'M goin' to get ya," he cut you off with the intention to calm you down. Taking a few steps back, he let the anger and rage take over his system once again and stormed forwards. The door might have been locked, but it definitely wasn't the same door like ten years ago. It had aged and got less stable, so when the archer's strong, bulky frame connected with the door, the lock gave in and the door busted open. Sure, it took him three tries and most likely cost him a bruised shoulder, but Daryl couldn't care less.

"C'mon. Let's getcha outta here 'n see a doctor. I ain't takin' any risks." Your husband shifted and gently slid an arm under your knees and around your back. "Hold on to me." You wrapped an arm around his neck, but shook your head. "Y-You don't have to do this, Dar. I can walk." "Nah," he stated, "I'm gonna do this. Yer hurt 'n pregnant." and lifted you carefully up to carry you bridal style. You didn't protest further. Why should you? He got a point after all...

The bright light from the corridor flooded the dark room and helping him to get a better look at you. You sat in the corner on the cold floor of the dark room. Your wrists and ankles were tied together with a thick rope - way too tight as he noticed, since he could see the material already cutting into your delicate skin. Tried blood was on the right side of your head.

Daryl's heart shattered into a million pieces, seeing you like this. Fear and concern coursed through his veins. "Y/N..." he whispered in a hoarse, broken voice and immediately dropped to his knees beside you, quickly freeing you off the too tight ropes, before one hand gently cupped your cheek, while the other found its way to your growing baby bump. "Ya both okay?! Ya hurt?! In pain?!" Tears of sheer relief gathered in your eyes; threatening to fall as you felt the gentle, loving touch of your husband and knowing that he was here with you. That he saved you.

"I-I'm okay... W-We are okay. Thanks to you," you breathed; smiling as tears rolled down your cheeks. It's been probably only hours since you lastly saw Daryl, but what had happened happened. The shock was profound.

The archer's eyes scanned your body thoroughly for any visible injuries. "Wha' 'bout yer head, sunshine?" "N-Nothing that can't be fixed," you stated and gazed deeply into his worried, loving eyes. "I'm s-so glad you found me. I-I was so afraid..." Daryl lowered his head to rest his forehead against yours. Your hands slipped behind his neck; tangling a few chestnut brown strands through your fingers. "Yeah, me too." Daryl's eyes fluttered shut, before his lips caught yours in a lingering, desperate kiss.

"Just Jed 'n Justin?" You nodded against his shoulder. "Justin waited for me in o-our room. He insulted you. S-Said I deserve better a-and..." You trailed off; feeling tears blurry your vision once again - but this time, it wasn't happy tears. "Ya dun have ta tell me, darlin'. Dun wanna pressure ya into talkin' 'a me." You swallowed hard and buried your face further in his shoulder and neck; "I-I want to tell you." inhaling deeply. Daryl's natural scent, mixed with leather and smoke filled your airways and - like always - had that soothing effect on you. "I-I think he was only a hairsbreadth away f-from raping me, but-" "Wha'?!" Daryl instantly cut you off. Every single muscle in his body tensed as he came to an abrupt halt. You could tell. "He didn't, Dar. I-I slapped him a-and tried to flee, but then there was J-Jed."

"Which one of those assholes did tha' to ya? Jed 'n who else?" Daryl asked in a drop-dead serious voice as he slowly made his way with you down the corridor. You swallowed hard; having to recall the horrible memory. "J-Justin."

Justin. One word - one name was enough to get Daryl's blood to a boiling point once again. He and that prick didn't get along from the very start - and this wasn't the first time the archer and Justin got in each other's ways... There had been a lot of situations where either of them was only a second away from beating the other up. Justin was - like Jed - one of those assholes who wanted Negan back. A Savior through and through.

The clattering sound of - most likely dishes urged to yours and Daryl's ears and managed to quickly redirect both your attention.

"'M gonna kill that sonofabitch," Daryl growled lowly under his breath, but you understood him anyway, of course. "Baby-" "Nah. Ya ain't gonna talk me outta this, Y/N," your husband stated firmly, while opening the main door to the building and stepped outside. Meanwhile, the sun had risen; fresh, crispy morning air hitting your bare arms.

"He's going to pay for tha'. He put you 'n our baby into danger. I ain't havin' tha'." "I know, babe, and you're right. He... He has to pay. But Rick's gonna-" "I dun care 'bout wha' Rick's gonna say. This ain't 'bout him. This' 'bout my family. We both know tha' he'd do the same in the end 'n-"

Justin stood a few feet away across from you and Daryl on the yard. What you had heard was indeed dishes breaking; the shards and content laying on the ground in front of the man. It looked like he had been just on his way to bring you some 'breakfast'. But now, the Savior stood frozen to the ground; eyes directed on you and Daryl. Your husband held his gaze, of course, and if looks could kill, Justin would've been dead already. You felt your archer's muscles tense once again, before he gently let you down. "Sit, 'kay? 'N stay there, please," he whispered and jutted his chin at a wooden bench. You did what he said and slowly walked backwards over to sit down; eyes never leaving both men.

The tension was literally cuttable with a knife as Justin and Daryl stared each other down. The archer out of pure hate and the Savior still in shock and in realization at failure of his plan. You knew this was going to escalate. Two 'alpha males' with completely different, but strong intentions.

Daryl knew it, too. It would've escalated someday anyway. For him, it was just sooner than later.

"Fuck," cursed Justin out loud then; awoken from his rigidity - and instantly started to run. Daryl wasn't having this, of course, and sprinted right after Justin. "Fuck, indeed..." You muttered to yourself; feeling your heart rate picking up. You had to fear for your life and the life of your unborn child for hours and now you had to fear for the life of your husband. Mental stress was your current program as it seemed - something not just you felt... You could feel some movement inside your baby bump. "I know, I know... I'm sorry, munchkin... I just hope your daddy knows what he's getting himself into..." Your palm cradled your protruding stomach in an attempt to soothe your antsy 'roommate'.

Meanwhile had Daryl caught up to Justin and tackled him to the concrete ground - where they still were. Fists connected with several body parts; each of them trying to gain the upper hand. Justin was definitely stronger than Jed. The archer had a hard time taking him down and couldn't do so without taking several hits and punches himself. However kept him the anger and adrenaline going, and gave him the strength he needed.

Somehow, they had made their way back to you. You gasped as both men entered your field of view again - just in time to witness Justin's fist colliding with Daryl's jaw, who let out a grunt of pain. Your eyes widened and you were instantly on your feet; breath hitching in your throat. "Daryl!" He had turned his back to you; spitting out some blood and blindly reaching out his arm to signal you to stay where you are. "Nah, stay back! I got it!" He yelled and violently shoved Justin away, as he wanted to deliver another blow.

You took a step back again, but didn't sit down; face full of concern. You wouldn't let him die. That much was certain. You'd intervene before that happened. How, was the part you hadn't figured out just yet...

The fight went on - without mercy. Daryl, you and Justin knew that only one would walk out alive. Neither the archer, nor the Savior intended to stop. Sure, you could stop it, but how were you supposed to do that?

The sound of a cracking bone almost send you into another frenzy - until you saw that it wasn't a bone of your husband's body. It was Justin's. His nose, to be precisely. The man winced in pain; crimson red blood already tripping down his nose and onto his shirt and the ground. Justin was clearly in a daze; stumbling a few steps back. This didn't slip Daryl's notice, of course. He knew that this was the moment. He had to grasp this chance and use it, before it was too late. The archer was well aware that he was hurt, too and didn't know how much longer he was able to hold on. So, without thinking twice, Daryl reached for the other knife in the sheath attached to his rugged jeans, freed the blade, spun around - and slit the Savior's throat in his movement. Your eyes widened to the size of plates; watching the man splutter and helplessly trying to put pressure on the wound, but it was in vain.

The clatter of a knife caused you to avert your eyes and look at your husband, who had sunk to his knees only a few feet away from Justin's now dead body; panting heavily. Your heart immediately screamed at you to look after the man you loved. Not wasting a second, you ran over to the archer; crouching down beside him.

"Daryl?" You cupped his cheeks and gently lifted his head to make him look at you. "Baby?" Heavy, clouded blue eyes gazed into yours. "You okay?" He nodded meekly. A breath of relief left your lips, although you could already see the bruises forming on his face and the dried blood on his lips and chin. Your thumbs caressed the rough, stubbly skin beneath them, before you gently pulled him closer and rested your forehead against his. Daryl sighed; his bloody hands gripping your wrists. "Y/N, 'm sorry, I-"

The bubble you and Daryl had been in bursted. You lifted your head; only now noticing Rick and a lot of other people standing around you. Mostly Saviors. Swallowing hard, you stood up; holding onto Daryl and helping him up as well. "Rick-" You started, but the leader of Alexandria interrupted you; shock, disappointment and anger clearly visible on his face. "You killed 'im? You killed Justin? Why?" You wanted to speak up again, but Daryl leapfrogged you. "'Cause he was a damn asshole, tha's why!" "Daryl, that's not-" "He kidnapped Y/N, Rick! He hurt her! He wanted to rape 'er 'n do god knows what to 'er!" Your husband yelled at his brother. "Wake up, man. We can't change them, Rick. They are wha' they chose ta be... 'N I ain't no longer puttin' my family on risk for this bullshit," Daryl stated firmly and wrapped his arm around your waist; anchoring you to him. "Let's getcha outta here, sunshine."

He didn't get any further. Another voice cut suddenly through the air. Familiar, but unexpected.

"What the hell is goin' on here?"

Rick was way too stunned to speak; could only watch as his best friend guided you across the yard.

Slowly, you slid closer and placed a hand cautiously on his bare back. "D-" "I failed ya." You couldn't even utter his name, before the words spilled from his lips. "I failed ya 'n our kid. Swore ta always protect ya 'n now look wha' happened..." You sighed. Of course... He blamed himself for this. You should've seen it coming. "Dar..." You spoke up again in a hushed voice; sliding even closer to him. One hand found its way around his waist, the other still resting on his upper back. "This wasn't your fault. Please stop blaming yourself. It was Jed and Justin's doing. Not yours," you tried to soothe his raging thoughts of guilt and littered his shoulder blade with tiny kisses.

A few hours, a visit at the infirmary and a shower later, you sat in yours and Daryl's room - still in the Sanctuary; trying to process what happened.

Only the mattress dipping beside you managed to rip you out of your thoughts. Daryl, who had just taken a shower as well sat down on the edge of the bed; muscles tensed and without saying a single word. He hadn't said a lot anyways since the incident. Sure, the archer had never been a man of words, but... You could tell that something was still bothering him.

You, though, stayed awake and watched him sleep with a soft smile on your face; fingers carding through his soft, still damp hair. "I just hope you reconciled with your brother, Mr. Dixon. You both need each other and you damn well know it."

Daryl shook his head. "Nah. 'S my fault, Y/N. Should've protected both 'a ya better." "You are protecting us the best you can, Daryl," you stated firmly; shifting once again to sit beside him. "You risked your life more than once for me. And you did what was right yesterday evening. You did what you had to do. You acted like a leader should act." "But-" "Nu.Uh. No buts," you cut him off and gently placed your lips in on his to keep him from speaking; entangling them in a sweet kiss. "We're right here, okay?" You prompted; taking one of his hands and placing it on your baby bump, while you intertwined the other with yours. "We're right here and we are completely fine." Troubled eyes gazed into yours; his touch never ceasing. "'M sorry," Daryl whispered; voice quivering.

"C'mere." You laid back on the bed and gently tucked at his hand; inviting him to join you. He immediately obliged and melted against your body with his head resting on your chest, while he was holding onto you for dear life. "That's it, baby... Relax. Deep breaths." Your husband followed your words, and found himself drifting off into dreamland at some point. He was just way too exhausted and unable to resist your soothing, comforting touch.

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @lou12346789 @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @cakesandtom @mayday2007 @thevegandarkelf

[f1cflcfic]

The Prophecy (SMAU ft. Lando Norris) Part II

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader (y/n)

summary: what happens after the break-up that noone saw coming? as Y/N L/N gears up to release her next album, each song reveals a little bit of the past, present and future of her relationship with Lando Norris. Inspired by a curated playlist built around "The Prophecy".

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons.

genre: social media au, angst, exes to lovers, happy ending

part i

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

September, 2026

[Excerpt from Kelly Clarkson interview with Y/N]

“We’re so excited to have y/n l/n with us today, I can’t get your latest song out of my head. It’s really such a great revival of the sultry pop ballads,” Kelly says joyously, and y/n can’t help but smile.

“Thank you! That means a lot coming from you – I grew up watching you on American Idol, I can’t believe I’m even sitting across from you now.”

“Oh my god, stop! You’re gonna make me feel real old. Congratulations again on your Grammy for your sophomore album, All I Ever Needed. How did it feel going into your new project with that in the back of your mind?”

Y/N shuffles uncomfortably on the couch. “Hmm thank you. I – well, it was really different. The songs I wrote on there were coming from this feeling of bliss which was fading fast by the time the Grammy’s rolled around. I had to figure out what kind of artist I am if I’m not in love, or writing about happiness. It felt embarrassing. I don’t like being vulnerable, but I love sharing love. So it was hard for me, not gonna lie. But I’m happy that we got there in the end.”

“Wow, well I was able to listen to a few other songs on this record. I gotta say, I think it’s by far your best record yet. And did you write on all of the songs this time around again?”

Y/N nods her head, a small smile creeping back up on her face. “Yeah, I did. It turns out that writing about sad things can be really cathartic. But I really want people to know that it doesn’t mean this isn’t an album about love. At the end of the day, each of these songs are love letters to every single moment or person that made me feel something – for better or worse.”

early October, 2026

[Transcription of Capital FM segment with Y/N]

“We’ve got Y/N L/N with us here on Capital FM, and we’re about to play a quick round of Never Have I Ever! Are you ready?”

Y/N smiles, holding a paddle with “I Have” and “I Have Never”. “Sure, as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Great! Now first one: Never have I ever… regifted a gift someone bought me.”

“Ooooh, not a gift someone bought me. But things I have been sent or given in goodie bags I’ve definitely regifted,” Y/N says, and raises the “I Have Never” paddle.  

“That’s alright! I think that’s not too bad. In fact, I’d volunteer to get something regifted from you,” the host laughs. “I usually donate it, but next time I’ll keep you in mind!”

“Perfect. Next one: Never have I ever slid into someone’s DMs”

Y/N rolls her eyes and raises the “I Have” paddle. “Who hasn’t? If people say they haven’t, they’re just lying to you.”

“Who’s the most famous person who’s ever been in your DMs?” The host asks, and Y/N laughs. “Hmm Taylor Swift, maybe?”

“You’re good friends, aren’t you?” Y/N nods. “Yeah, I actually wrote ‘how did it end?’ during a studio session with her.”

“Hmm that brings me to the next question – never have I ever written a song about an ex.”

Again, Y/N raises the “I Have” paddle, but then twists it so it’s halfway. “I think sometimes, no scratch that, I think almost always songs work way better when they’re open for interpretation. Isn’t it nice how everyone can take something else from it, that way?”

“Have you ever gotten back together with an ex?” The host asks, and Y/N makes a ‘tsk’ noise. “Never! First rule in the book, or so my friends tell me all the time.”

"Even when the heart wants what it wants?"

"Even then."

mid October, 2026

[Excerpt from Call Her Daddy episode with Y/N]

“I think in many ways this album is the most naked I’ve ever felt in my emotions. But maybe that’s actually a good thing,” Y/N grins.

“They do say that sex sells,” Alex (Cooper) responds, and Y/N chuckles. “You’ll find hardly any of that on this album.”

“That’s not entirely true, there’s a song on there with some explicit lyrics,” she adds.

“Undrunk? Funnily enough, that one was probably one of the easier ones to write because it actually felt the furthest removed from myself? It’s inspired by, but not based on my own experiences. I’d say it’s my unlived life,” Y/N tries to explain.

“Talk to me about that. People are always quite eager to pinpoint all experiences of a celebrity. They know who you’ve dated, look for clues and dissect every lyric. How do you decide what to share and what not to share?”

“I think it’s sort of why I wanted to share ‘how did it end?’. Even the title track is me addressing the fact that everyone feels entitled to determine my love story. Including me, I think everyone tries to engineer or hack happiness at one point in their life. But it doesn’t work like that. And at the same time, it’s important for me to try and have some semblance of control over my own narrative, my feelings, my sense of self. And that also goes for the people whose presence in my life inspired me to write these songs. For better or worse, I’m grateful for it.”

Alex smirks. “Look, we can’t avoid the topic here. We all know that one of those people is Formula One driver Lando Norris. He’s also got a lot of very dedicated fans, who’ve been clamoring under every post of yours to leave him alone ever since you started dating. How did, and do you deal with that? It would have been easy to erase him from your social media, once the relationship ended, but you chose not to do that. Was that a conscious decision on your end, or something you ever discussed?”

Y/N takes a sip of water, and purses her lips. “I kinda feel like it’s just not really my place to expand on that – it’s between Lando and his fans. Like, it actually has nothing to do with me, I feel. If people are surprised I didn’t delete like three photos, it’s just because I like them – it’s not that deep. I can still cherish good moments, even when they’re in the past. I’m not embarrassed or ashamed of the fact that my ex was part of my life. But it’s not for me to comment on it beyond that. He’s well within his rights to want to delete them, and he doesn’t need to explain to anyone – not to me, not to his fans, anyone why he did it.”

“But it’s more than that. It does seem to imply he doesn’t like the association. And yet you referenced him in the video for “Jaded”. It’s caused some controversy,” she prods a little more.

Y/N snorts. “I was just paying homage to my co-writer, and her iconic 7 Things video. But it’s also partly me taking that ownership. A video is one of the few spaces where you can set the scene. If I wanted to expand on it, I’d have done it through art. People will be mad either way, and the props don’t add anything you can’t already infer from the lyrics.”

“Has he listened to it?”

“Have you?” Y/N counters. Alex smiles, then moves on.

end of October, 2026

[The Independent excerpt]

Y/N L/N reveals tracklist to her third album as anticipation grows!

An obvious contender for the BRITs, is what the first reviews are saying about L/N's latest record “Jaded”. The LP will arrive in just two weeks, but up until today we did not know the exact runtime of the highly anticipated album. After posting to her Instagram, Y/N L/N revealed that the regular version of The Prophecy will count 12 tracks, with the deluxe edition raising that to a comfortable 16. Fans will surely be delighted to know that they can purchase various versions, all contributing to what is looking to be a very easy chart victory.

Talking to Jimmy Fallon earlier this week, L/N stated that she hopes her fans will listen to the album in its running order. “I know it’s really tempting to skip straight to your favourite, but I spent ages ruminating over how to tell my story in the best way – so I hope that translates.”

So far, all official singles of “The Prophecy” have charted both in the Official Top 20 as well as the Billboard Top 40, with The Heart Want What It Wants peaking on top, and Jaded just outside the top 10 at #11.

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥ I was soooooo happily surprised by the response to the previous part that I hurried up to post this :) Any comments, likes, reblogs, asks are super appreciated. ♥ Part III will follow shortly, it'll be four parts in total. for those interested, official tracklist songs

how did it end? - Taylor Swift / The Heart Wants What It Wants - Selena Gomez / Jaded - Miley Cyrus / Lie to Girls - Sabrina Carpenter / Breakeven - The Script / The Prophecy - Taylor Swift / Stay - Gracie Abrams / Science + Faith - The Script / Moral of the Story ft. Niall Horan - Ashe / Undrunk - Fletcher / Vertigo - Griff / No More Sad Songs - Little Mix / Paper Hearts - Tori Kelly / Into You - Julia Michaels / Supercut - Lorde / Genesis - Dua Lipa

[chocorachocora]

Oooh I have a spicy version of "My goodbye" but it has nothing to do with the cyclops.

You see...

ARE FOUGHF FOR TROJANS IN THE WAR

Oof the angst, the delious angst

At first he sided with the Greeks because of Hera, but was persuaded to switch sides by Aphrodite (not beating the caked up babygirl alegations with this one).

Overall Areses is very fickle, his actions are more fueled by personal motivation rather than a clear alience and loyalty to either side, if you kill his son he's gonna kill you no mater what side you are on (altho his fickleness could mostly be atributed to the fact that ancient greeks did not fucking like him lets be real)

So I can imagine them falling out due to being on conflicting sides of a war, Penelope feeling betrayed.

And later Ares helps her out, both as an act of honoring their old friendship and seeking of forgiveness.

And Penelope, altho not any less betrayed by his actions, comes out of her journey with a bit more understanding for Ares, now that she was constantly put in a position where she had to compromise between doing the noble thing and getting to see her family one day again.

Now since this is pretty lit, I wonder how "My goodbye" Between Ares and Penelope will turn out. Surely Ares wouldn't let his spartan girlie astray 😥

But it canonically happened. What could she possibly do to disappointed him so much? If Athena is pissed bc ody didn't kill the Cyclop how would it turn out for penny, she'd have done the opposite right? And Ares try to stop her for some reason. Could the Cyclops friends try to help him but penny killed them too or maybe the Cyclop had a baby so when penny kill him the baby was left alone?? Since Ares is circling around comrades and family stuff. I dunno I'm just ranting lol.

[aesthetically-dying101]

Letters to the past

A/N: in which they find a love letter that you wrote to them years ago. (im tempted to write a version of this of pure angst, where reader is dead and they find the letter later, but for now im being nice), inspired by real world events!

warnings: light angst (with a happy ending), suggestive, crack, shits n gigs

Characters: Nanami, Toji, Gojo, Geto, Sukuna, Choso, Shiu, Higuruma. (in that order)

Nanami was quietly tidying up the shared office, something he did on his very rare off days, he was organizing a particular stack of papers on his side of the desk when his hand brushed against something unfamiliar—something soft, wrapped in a ribbon. Curiosity piqued, he pulled it out—an envelope with his name scrawled in your handwriting. The paper was a little yellowed with age, the ink slightly faded, but the love was still so palpable.

He carefully opened it, unsure of what he was about to read. What he found inside was... a letter. A love letter. From you.

He chuckled softly, his heart squeezing in his chest. The date at the top: “One Year Together”.

The paper was dotted with sketches—little doodles of him—and he couldn’t help but smile, his heart swelling in his chest.

A light chuckle escaped his lips.

“I can’t believe this… you drew me like that? I was such a dork…”

Nanami's chest tightened.

Seven years. It had been seven years since you two had been together, and four years of marriage. Time had flown, but reading the words from that first year? From when everything had felt so new and exciting? It was... overwhelming. And there were even little doodles of him scattered throughout the pages, goofy sketches of his serious face, his messy hair, and him in his work clothes.

It was... perfect.

“Oh my god,” he whispered to himself, eyes scanning over the words. “I can’t believe you wrote this…”

You had always been dramatic when it came to love, but that had been one of the things he adored most about you. Your passion, your sincerity, and how every little detail felt like it had meaning.

Just as he was wiping a happy tear from his eye, he heard the door open.

“Hey, Kento!” you called out, your voice bright and bubbly from a long day of teaching. But when you walked in and saw him standing there, holding the letter, your face immediately fell.

“Wha—” you began to sputter, running over and snatching it out of his hand. “No! Oh my god, why do you have that?!” You were practically in full dramatic panic mode, hands shaking slightly as you tried to hide the letter behind your back.

Nanami couldn’t help but laugh, amused at how flustered you were. “I just found this,” he said, his voice full of affection. “I didn’t realize you were such a poet. And these drawings—” he gestured to the little doodles of him— “they’re... adorable.”

“Oh, please,” you groaned, your face flushing. “Stop it! Don’t even read it out loud. It’s so embarrassing! I was like—what—21? It was a year in! I was still figuring out how to not be awkward!”

Nanami grinned, leaning in slightly, his arms crossed in front of his chest. “I think it’s perfect. You were so honest, so sweet. And the drawings—” his voice softened, “they're so cute.”

You crossed your arms, pouting. “Kento, nooooo, don’t you dare! I can’t believe you found that. You’re gonna be all ‘oh, look, look at my cute, romantic wife’ for the next week, huh? God, stop being so dramatic about it.”

“Is that really a problem?” he teased, giving you an amused glance. “I think it’s adorable. And I’m the lucky guy who gets to read it now.”

You dramatically slumped against the desk, covering your face in mock embarrassment. “I can’t with you. You’re making me so red. You can’t show anyone this, Kento. Not a single person.”

“Why?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, amused at your antics. “We’ve been together for seven years, married for four. You really think it’s embarrassing now?”

You peeked over your hands, your voice soft but still teasing. “Yes. Because it’s cheesy and gushy, and I’m just... ugh. So much poetry.”

“I happen to think that poetry is one of your many talents,” he said, voice gentle as he moved closer to you. “And you’ve always been perfectly you. I love you even more for it.”

You sighed dramatically, trying to hide your smile behind your hands. “Stop it, Kento. Stop looking at me like that. You’re gonna make me cry with how sweet you're being.”

Nanami chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m sorry. But seriously. I’m glad I found this. You’ve always been so good to me.”

You melted into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his words settle into your heart. "You're so ridiculous," you whispered, pressing your face into his chest. "But I love you."

He kissed the top of your head, chuckling softly. “I love you, too. Always.”

And as the two of you stood there in the cozy office, holding each other close, Nanami couldn’t help but feel so incredibly lucky to have found you—his partner, his wife.

Toji was knee-deep in moving boxes, his muscles flexing as he grabbed yet another heavy one- he was glad you weren't home, or else you would've made a comment. The sound of cardboard scraping against the floor filled the room as he shifted it into place. It was one of those days where every corner of their house was chaotic, half-packed, and filled with the usual mess that came with moving.

But then something fell.

A soft sound, followed by paper crinkling, caught his attention. He raised an eyebrow and crouched down, picking up a stray piece of paper from the floor. The corners were worn, the edges curling slightly with age. He blinked when he realized what it was.

A letter.

Her handwriting.

Curiosity piqued, Toji slid off his old man glasses from the top of his head with an exaggerated flair, rolling them into place before he cracked open the letter.

And that’s when he saw it.

A love letter—one from you.

From the early days of your relationship, when things were still fresh and you were... completely infatuated with him (not that he ever let it go to his head or anything). Toji’s lips quirked into a devilish grin as he leaned back against the box, settling in for the show.

He read through the entire thing, each line making him chuckle louder and louder. The dramatic declarations, the overly poetic descriptions of his “dangerous” eyes, the flowery words about how he “was the center of her universe”… Oh, this was gold.

“Well well well,” Toji muttered, barely able to keep himself from busting into laughter. “Look at you, all sentimental, huh? Just how cute…”

He kicked his feet up, reclining on the nearest piece of furniture, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Gotta admit, babe. You were delusional back then."

You had just come home from a walk in the park with Megumi, trying to get some fresh air after the chaos of packing. Megumi was by your side, his small hand holding onto your sleeve, talking about something he saw at the park. You were listening, but the moment you stepped inside, you noticed Toji—sitting with that mischievous grin plastered on his face.

He was holding something in his hand. The letter.

No.

"Toji..." you groaned in embarrassment, already knowing what was coming. "What did you find?"

“Oh, just this little thing…” Toji drawled, waving the letter in the air, his grin practically splitting his face. “Look at this, sweetheart—look what I got.”

Your eyes widened, and you immediately lunged forward, making a grab for it.

“Toji! Give me that!”

But he was already one step ahead, holding it high above his head as he leaned back, savoring your reaction. “What’s the rush? I’m just having a little fun, doll. Let me enjoy it for a second.”

You groaned, your face turning an embarrassing shade of crimson. “No, please! That was years ago! It’s… so embarrassing!” You jumped up, trying to wrestle it out of his hands, but he was too strong.

“‘Toji, I adore you, you are the light of my life, my heart beats only for you…’” He read aloud dramatically, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he quoted your words. “‘Your smile is like the sun, and I am forever basking in your warmth.’ Oh, I’m dying here, baby. This is priceless.”

“I was naive back then!” you shouted, flipping him over your shoulder in a fit of frustration. “I was delusional! It was a different time!!”

“Delusional? Baby, you were love-struck,” Toji teased, completely unfazed by your attempts to wrestle the letter away. "I’m just surprised you actually thought I’d believe that sappy stuff back then.”

You both tumbled onto the couch in a mess of tangled limbs, but you didn’t stop. You were determined to get that letter back, even if it meant flipping Toji over—again. Your fingers scrambled for the piece of paper, but Toji’s laughter made everything feel lighthearted.

“You knew what you were saying,” he laughed, pinning your wrists down, still holding the letter just out of reach. “I didn’t even know I was such a heartthrob back then.”

“I swear to god, Toji…” You wriggled beneath him, doing your best to twist and turn, but it only resulted in you getting a little closer to him than you intended.

Toji’s face softened for a moment as he looked at you, his playful grin slowly fading into something far more intimate.

"You were adorable back then," he whispered, voice low. "I liked it. You’re lucky I never threw that letter away."

“You better not have,” you muttered, eyes meeting his. He was so close now, your breath mixing in the air between you.

His hand shifted from the letter, instead cupping your cheek, his lips pressing against yours in a deep, slow kiss. You melted into him, your hands wandering, sliding beneath his shirt as you tugged him closer.

You were so lost in the kiss, the heat building between you, that you barely noticed Megumi stepping through the door.

“Dad?” Megumi’s voice interrupted from the doorway, his little face peeking around the corner.

You both froze, wide-eyed, your hands still dangerously close to Toji’s waistband. Megumi blinked at you, looking oddly embarrassed for someone his age.

“I forgot my plushy at the park,” he said, face turning pink.

Toji groaned in exasperation, pulling away from you just enough to shoot you a look. “Guess that’s our cue, huh?”

You shot him a glare, but you couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. “This isn’t over, Toji.”

“Yeah, yeah. Later,” he smirked, rolling off you and giving Megumi a playful pat on the head. "Let’s get your plushy then."

As you all prepared to head back to the park, you swore—next time, you’d get your revenge.

Gojo Satoru was hunched over your shared office desk, papers scattered in every direction as he sifted through stacks of documents. He was searching for a specific file on a curse, but knowing Gojo, he’d probably get distracted and misplace half of them before finding what he was actually looking for. Not that he’d admit it.

His fingers brushed against something odd tucked between two thick folders—an envelope. His eyes narrowed, curiosity piqued. It was a very familiar envelope, one with your handwriting all over it.

Wait… What the hell?

He blinked, disbelief settling over him. The letter was from you—a love letter. From when you were still dating, after just one year. You two had been together for eight years now, but this letter… it felt like a lifetime ago. He could feel his chest tighten as he carefully opened the envelope, the old, yellowed paper inside immediately making him grin like an idiot.

It was poetic. Deeply poetic. And so you. He could almost hear your voice reading it out loud, the words seeping into his bones. And the drawings—of him.

“Oh my god,” Gojo whispered under his breath, blinking rapidly as he read more. “This... this is way too much. Is this really what I was like back then?”

His hand shook a little, a laugh escaping him as his mind tried to wrap around the overwhelming wave of emotion that suddenly flooded him. He couldn’t help it.

The Strongest Sorcerer was about to cry over a letter.

When you walked into the office, the first thing you noticed was the unnatural stillness of the room. Gojo was sitting there—completely silent, holding the letter. His usual carefree demeanor was absent, replaced by something entirely different, something soft and vulnerable.

You froze in the doorway, your eyes widening in panic.

“Wait... is someone dead?” you asked, voice rising in pitch as you rushed toward him. You immediately looked around for any sign of trouble. “Is it Shoko? Is it Suguru??”

Gojo blinked slowly, slowly looking up at you. His expression was a mixture of awe and—wait, was that a tear?

“No. It’s just... this letter,” he said quietly, his voice uncharacteristically soft, the letter still clutched in his hand. He looked up at you, his eyes wide. “I had no idea you felt this way back then. You really loved me this much?”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as you immediately realized what was happening. The letter you’d written to him years ago—the one you’d completely forgotten about—was now in his hands, and he was reading it like a treasure.

You let out an exaggerated, pained groan. “Oh my god, noooooo.”

Gojo laughed softly, clearly taken aback. “What, you’re not proud of what you wrote?” he teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I mean, I was a pretty perfect boyfriend, right?”

“Nooooo, stop,” you whined, dramatically covering your face with your hands. “Why do you always have to find my most embarrassing moments? Why are you like this?”

He grinned wickedly. “Oh, I’m definitely reading you some lines. You need to hear how much you loved me, sweetheart.”

“Noooo,” you protested again, lunging toward him to snatch the letter. “Kento—I swear, if you read a single line out loud, I’ll—“

But he was already reading aloud, his voice dropping into that playful tone he always used when teasing you.

“‘Satoru, my heart beats for you,’” he started, dramatically pausing for effect. “‘You are the sunshine in my life, and I will always cherish the way your smile makes me feel as if the world is whole again.’”

Your eyes went wide, and you leaped forward to grab the letter. “Satoru! STOP!”

“‘I love you more than words can express,’” he read, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. “‘And I cannot wait for the day I call you mine forever.’”

“OH. MY. GOD,” you shouted, now fully flustered. Your skin felt on fire as you tried to wrestle the letter from his hands. “Stop, I was so dramatic back then! You have no idea—”

But Gojo just sat back, enjoying the chaos he’d caused. He raised an eyebrow. “Was you? It’s still pretty cute now. Look, this one’s my favorite—‘When I’m with you, time stands still. I am yours, and you are mine—forever.’”

You gasped, flailing helplessly. “I WILL END YOU, GOJO SATORU.”

Gojo just laughed, that deep, comforting sound filling the room as he shook his head. “You’re so cute when you’re all flustered.”

“SHUT UP!” you whined. “This is an absolute nightmare! I will literally kill the strongest sorcerer if I have to.”

“Oh?” Gojo’s grin turned devilish as he leaned forward, the mischievous glint in his eye more intense than ever. “Maybe I should let you make me suffer a little—since I’m so lucky to have you, right?”

You gave him a playful shove, and without thinking, your hand dipped down to his pants, feeling the subtle tension in his body at your touch.

“W-Wait—what are you—?”

“I said shut up,” you whispered, a teasing smirk spreading across your face as you leaned forward to kiss him, your hand sliding dangerously lower. Gojo’s breath hitched, his voice trembling as he muttered,

“UuUuUu... lemme repay you for your words...”

Geto Suguru leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming lightly on the edge of his desk as his cult member, a young woman, hesitantly approached with a piece of paper.

"Master Geto," she began, her voice laced with uncertainty. "We found something... in the library. Between the books. It seems to be an old letter."

Geto arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "A letter? What kind of letter?"

The woman hesitated, but handed it over to him, and he noticed the familiar handwriting immediately. It was yours.

His heart skipped a beat as he unfolded the letter. The words on the page were undeniably yours, but what struck him was how genuine it felt—this love letter was full of sincerity, overflowing with affection that made his chest tighten in a way he hadn’t expected.

He chuckled softly to himself, his fingers gently tracing over the elegant script. The letter was written eight years ago, just after he and you had started dating. He could almost hear your voice, dramatic and poetic, as if he was reading it straight from your lips.

"Well, well, well," he muttered under his breath, a sly smile forming on his face. "Seems like my wife was really into me back then."

His cult member gave him a confused look but said nothing as he smirked and folded the letter neatly, tucking it into his jacket pocket.

When you arrived home, having finished your errands for the day, you immediately noticed Geto lounging on the couch, a strange glint in his eyes. He was holding something behind his back, clearly up to no good.

"What’s that?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you dropped your bag onto the nearby chair.

“Oh, nothing,” Geto said, his smile far too innocent. "Just something I found that I thought you might enjoy."

You crossed your arms, eyeing him suspiciously. "Is it a new cult ritual that involves me?"

He leaned forward, looking way too pleased with himself. “Better. It’s a blast from the past.”

Before you could react, he produced the letter from behind his back and waved it in front of your face. "Guess what I found in the library today?"

You froze. The moment you saw the familiar handwriting, your stomach dropped. No.

"Geto... no," you whispered, taking a step back as if the letter itself could bite. "Don't you dare."

“Oh, I dare,” he teased, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “It’s from you.”

You slowly turned your head to the side, trying to make a break for it. “Nope, I’m not doing this today. Not today, not ever.”

“You’re not going to want to miss this,” Geto said, clearly enjoying your discomfort. He unfolded the letter with all the drama of someone preparing to perform Shakespeare.

The words he read aloud were beautiful, so full of love and passion it almost made you cringe. You remembered writing it so vividly, a flood of emotions that you hadn’t even realized you still carried. And now, Geto was reading it out loud for all to hear.

"‘Suguru, my heart longs for you, and my soul finds peace in your presence,’” he began dramatically, putting on a voice as if he were a great actor. “‘Every moment with you is a blessing, every glance is an eternity...’”

“Geto, no!” You turned away, hands over your ears. "Please, don’t—"

He only chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “‘I’m yours, Suguru, and you are my everything…’” He paused, a smug grin spreading across his face. “‘I will love you always, now and forever.’”

You stopped in your tracks, your face burning with embarrassment. “Oh my god. Oh my god. You didn’t just—”

“I did,” he said, savoring every moment. “And to think, you thought I’d forgotten.” He waved the letter in the air like it was some kind of victory flag.

You exhaled dramatically, throwing your hands up in the air as you began to walk away. “I refuse to listen to this. I’m not doing this. This is ridiculous.”

“Oh, come on,” Geto called after you, trying to suppress his laughter. "You were so in love with me back then, and you still are, huh?”

You spun around, narrowing your eyes at him. “Geto, if you keep teasing me, I’m not making you dinner tonight.”

He tilted his head, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “You wouldn’t deny me that. You love me too much.”

You glared at him dramatically. "You’re lucky I’m even married to you, sir."

“Lucky?” he raised an eyebrow. “I think it’s the other way around.”

You crossed your arms, pretending to look offended. "I don’t know... I might reconsider after this little stunt."

He took a few steps forward, finally dropping the letter back in his pocket. His expression softened. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I just... didn’t realize how sweet you were back then. You still are.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes but secretly feeling your heart warm. “You know, I still don’t think you’re allowed to read my letters from eight years ago like that.”

“Why not?” he grinned. “It’s proof of how much you love me.”

You huffed, folding your arms tighter across your chest. “Ugh, you really are impossible.”

“Admit it,” he said, stepping closer to you. “You still love me that much.”

“Fine,” you muttered, trying not to smile. “Maybe I do...”

“Maybe?” He raised an eyebrow, leaning in close with that familiar cocky grin.

You rolled your eyes again, but this time, you couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at the corner of your lips. “Okay, fine. I definitely do.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.” He smirked, closing the distance and pulling you into his arms. “Now, let’s get you out of that mood. Dinner still stands, right?”

You groaned. “I swear, you’re impossible.”

“You love it,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “And I love you, too. Even more than this letter says.”

And despite your earlier protests, you couldn’t help but smile, your heart swelled with warmth and affection for the man who never failed to make you laugh, even when he was embarrassing you with old love letters.

Sukuna Ryomen, the fearsome King of Curses, sat in his grand chambers, his body draped across his throne, looking as if he could conquer empires with a single glance. His regal expression was unfazed as Uraume sorted through the countless scrolls piled around them. But then, a soft "Ah!" sounded from Uraume, and Sukuna’s sharp eyes flickered toward them.

“What?” Sukuna asked, his voice a low growl, barely masking his curiosity.

Uraume stood up straight, holding a scroll in their hands with an intrigued expression. “My Lord, I believe I’ve found something... interesting.” They unrolled the scroll, revealing the elegant, flowing handwriting.

Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

Uraume cleared their throat and began reading aloud. “My dearest Sukuna, the one with the four arms, the eyes of a god...”

The words stopped Sukuna dead in his tracks. His eyes narrowed, and a small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “This... is from her, isn’t it?”

“Yes, my Lord,” Uraume said, unable to hide the amusement in their voice. “It seems to be a love letter.”

Sukuna smirked. “Is it? Let me see.”

Uraume handed him the scroll, and Sukuna read on, his usually cold demeanor cracking ever so slightly as he made his way through the poetic declarations. His heart actually skipped a beat when he saw the lines about his "handsome four arms" and "piercing, yet captivating eyes."

"...When I look into your eyes, it's as though I see the entire universe. Your strength is unrivaled, your beauty unmatched."

Sukuna blinked, his mind struggling to comprehend what was happening. Was he... blushing? What kind of nonsense was this? He shook his head as if to rid himself of the absurdity.

But there was something in those words—something tender—that tugged at him. He looked over the letter again, a rare feeling bubbling in his chest.

"She really... thinks that of me?" Sukuna muttered under his breath.

"Indeed, my Lord," Uraume confirmed, their voice soft with a trace of teasing. "It seems she finds you quite... attractive."

Sukuna snorted, rolling his eyes, but there was a faint, pleased smile curling on his lips. He couldn't help it; there was something about how his sweet little human wife saw him—really saw him—that made his heart do strange things.

With a low, almost possessive cackle, Sukuna pushed himself off his throne. "I need to see her. Now."

You were strolling through the gardens, lost in thought, enjoying the quiet of the day. Your delicate fingers brushed the petals of the flowers as you walked, when suddenly, you felt a presence behind you.

Before you could turn around, the voice you knew so well boomed from behind you. “Well, well, little wife. I've made quite the discovery, haven’t I?”

You stiffened, your heart dropping. Oh no...

“W-What do you mean?” You turned around, trying to play it cool, but your wide eyes betrayed you.

Sukuna smirked as he approached you, holding the scroll in his hands. “A love letter? To me? You must really be under my spell, huh?”

“Nooooooo...” you groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Why—why are you like this?”

“Oh, but I must know,” Sukuna continued, his voice dripping with amusement. “Do you find my four arms attractive? Or maybe it’s my eyes? Hmm? The ‘piercing, captivating eyes’?”

You were about to burst into flames from embarrassment. “Stop it! I was young! I—I—I was just—just... poetic! And dramatic! And—!”

Sukuna chuckled deeply, that deep, rumbling sound that made your heart flutter despite the embarrassment. “Poetic, huh? Well, little wife, I must admit, your words have an effect on me. You’ve really outdone yourself.”

You could feel your face turning as red as a tomato as you half-heartedly tried to grab the scroll from his hands. “Please, just burn it! I’ll never recover from this. Ever!”

Sukuna took a step back, watching you struggle to keep it together. The sight was too adorable, too human, and for a moment, the terrifying King of Curses just couldn’t help but soften his expression, his gaze lingering on you with something like affection.

You continued your frantic flailing, but your eyes met his and—damn it, your heart was racing again.

“You really think I’m that attractive, huh?” Sukuna said, stepping closer, his voice teasing but somehow gentler than usual. “Tell me, do you still feel the same way, little wife?”

You flailed a little more dramatically. “I...! You’re ruining me!”

“You did write this, didn’t you?” he said, lowering the scroll and staring at you with that all-too-confident glint in his eyes. “So, tell me, do you still think I’m ‘unmatched in beauty’?”

The words you wrote—so carefully chosen, full of love—now seemed to weigh on you like a thousand pounds. You groaned in frustration. “I was being dramatic! A little poetic flair here and there... okay, maybe a lot of flair, but I was... young, okay?!”

Sukuna’s smile softened, and he placed the scroll in your hands. “You’re still the same, aren’t you?”

“Stop,” you muttered, your voice barely a whisper. You wanted to vanish into the earth. You'd never survive this embarrassment. Never.

But Sukuna, in all his terrifying glory, knelt down to your level and gently cupped your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender.

“Don’t hide from me, little wife. You wrote this out of love. And for that... I’ll never make fun of you for it. Besides...” He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “I like how much you love me. Even if it means I get to tease you for it.”

You closed your eyes, melting under his touch, all the while, your heart racing. “You’re impossible,” you muttered.

“I know,” he purred, grinning from ear to ear. “But that’s why you married me.”

You could only groan, giving in to the impossible man who had somehow wrapped you around his finger—and you’d never be happier about it.

Choso was sitting at the kitchen table, a tear-streaked face buried in his hands. His shoulders were shaking slightly as he stared down at the letter in his lap. His heart ached, not from pain, but from something else. Something softer. Something—embarrassing.

You had just come in from the garden, humming to yourself, when you caught sight of him. And you froze.

"Choso?" you asked cautiously, tilting your head. "What’s going on? Are you—are you okay?"

His voice, thick with emotion, broke through his trembling hands. "I... I found it... I found your letter."

You blinked, brows furrowing. "My letter? Which one?"

“The one you wrote to me… back when we were dating.”

Now that hit you like a ton of bricks. You swallowed hard, trying not to panic. Oh god. You had written a lot of things back then, too many of them cringey and so full of teenage drama. You could already feel the cringe creeping up your spine.

Your lips pulled into a nervous smile. "Choso, sweetheart, you’ve... you’ve gotta be kidding. You’ve been holding onto that thing for years?"

He looked up at you with those wide, pitiful eyes, his lower lip trembling. "It’s so... it’s so beautiful... but also so embarrassing..." He could barely finish his sentence before he put his hands back over his face, shoulders shaking again.

You blinked rapidly. "Wait, wait, hold on. You’re crying over a letter?"

His voice was muffled behind his hands. "It was... everything I needed to hear from you. I didn’t know back then... how much it meant..."

Your heart melted for him, but you had no idea how to react. Choso was dramatic, sure, but this?

“Choso, honey, please. It can’t be that bad.” You walked over, sitting down beside him, reaching out to gently pull his hands away from his face. “Show me. What did I even say? I’m sure it wasn’t that—”

He thrust the letter into your hands like it was a delicate artifact, almost afraid to let it out of his sight.

"Here..." His voice wavered. "Read it... you’ll understand."

You glanced down at the letter and immediately felt your face burn. The handwriting was unmistakably yours—so full of emotions, so full of youth. You skimmed the first few lines, wincing a little.

"Okay, okay... uhh... Choso, I—" You made it a few sentences in before you felt the need to physically cringe. "Oh, no."

You cleared your throat. "Let’s see here... ‘My dearest Choso, your presence fills my heart with a warmth so pure, a fire so gentle. Your love is the light that guides me in the darkest of times. I am forever enchanted by your tenderness...’"

You froze, the back of your neck prickling with embarrassment. “Oh my god,” you whispered to yourself. “What... what was I even saying here?”

Choso, still looking like he was on the verge of another round of tears, nodded seriously. "Yeah, exactly. It’s... it’s beautiful, right? Your words… your love..."

You gave him a wide-eyed look. "Beautiful?! Choso, baby, this is... so cringey! This is—you—this is... I... nooooooo." You threw the letter down onto the table in sheer dramatic agony. “I literally cannot believe I wrote this to you. Why would I—why would I say that?!” You buried your face in your hands, your shoulders shaking as you dramatically flopped forward. “I’m a monster. I should never be allowed to write anything ever again. That is so... so embarrassing.”

Choso was still staring at you, eyes wide, clearly not understanding your level of discomfort. “But... I loved it. I love it. I loved the way you saw me then... you really felt that way about me?”

You groaned, covering your face in your hands, your voice muffled. “Yes, but god, I was so dramatic! So cheesy! Like, ugh! Look, ‘your presence fills my heart with warmth’?” You could feel yourself melting from the inside out. “Who even talks like that? It’s like I was writing for a novel.”

“But I... I liked it,” Choso said quietly, his voice filled with a sweetness that nearly undid you. “I liked how much you loved me. I didn’t even know it at the time, but... it meant everything to me.”

You blinked, glancing at him through your fingers. He looked so sincere—and that only made the cringe worse.

You sighed dramatically, still half-buried in your hands. “Choso, I swear, I’m literally going to die of secondhand embarrassment.”

He tilted his head, that same soft, patient look in his eyes as he reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. “I don’t think you get it. I’m so happy that you loved me like that. It’s... perfect. It’s you, and it’s real. And even if it’s cheesy... it makes me feel like the luckiest man alive.”

You finally peeked out from your hands, looking at him with a mix of fondness and absolute horror. “You’re too sweet. I’m dying. You’re gonna make me melt into a puddle of shame.”

“I don’t mind if you melt... as long as I get to hold the pieces of you after.” Choso grinned, his soft, sad little smile turning into something mischievous.

“Okay, okay, stop! You can’t just say stuff like that after I’ve shown you my deep, emotional self-doubt!” You sat up, pushing at his chest playfully. “I’ll die if you keep making me feel things after the disaster of a letter I wrote!”

Choso chuckled softly, but you could see the tenderness in his gaze. “I don’t care if it’s dramatic. I love it. I love you, even more than I loved that letter.”

You slumped back in your chair, finally letting out a breath, though your heart was still pounding a little too fast. “You’re going to be the end of me, I swear.”

Choso’s grin softened into something more sincere, and he reached out to gently pull you close, his hands holding you tight, as if to shield you from any more cringe.

“Maybe it’s dramatic, but I’d rather you be dramatic than not love me at all.” His voice was quiet, full of something vulnerable. “And I’d never stop loving you, no matter how cheesy you get.”

You buried your face in his chest, trying not to think about the letter—or your poor, poor, dramatic younger self.

"You're impossible," you muttered, but there was no bite in it. You couldn’t stay mad at him—not when he was holding you like this, his warmth wrapping around you.

Choso just chuckled softly. "I’m not the one who wrote that letter, sweetheart. You were the impossible one."

Shiu Kong was going through some files in the home office, the flicker of a late afternoon sun casting a warm glow on the scattered paperwork.

He was getting a little frustrated, squinting at the documents, trying to locate the one he needed for a client’s case. His fingers flipped through stacks, his mind focused, until—whoops—he accidentally knocked over a pile of papers, and something unexpected fell out from the top.

It was an envelope. A familiar, old envelope with your handwriting on it.

His heart skipped a beat. "Wait... is this—?"

He gently picked it up, almost afraid to open it, yet unable to resist. He recognized the handwriting immediately—it was from a long time ago. Way before the two of you had gotten married. His mind raced as he slowly tore open the seal.

He started reading, and had to stop himself from audibly cackling.

The words were so you—so full of love and warmth, but also... a little bit of that cringey youthful romanticism that made him smile despite himself. You'd written it when you were still dating, back when he was just “Shiu” and not husband. And yet, every line, every word, made him feel like the luckiest man alive.

You had written about him like he was some sort of prince, some otherworldly figure—a knight in shining armor. "The way you make me feel... like no one else could ever compare... your strength and your heart both captivate me in ways I never thought possible..."

The more he read, the more he felt like he was floating. Was this really how you had felt back then? Was this really how you still felt now?

"Oh my god...," he muttered under his breath, practically glowing with pride.

Meanwhile, you were coming back from the kitchen, wiping your hands on a dish towel when you saw Shiu standing in the office doorway, a smirk on his face, that sparkle in his eye that meant trouble.

He looked at you, holding the letter out between his fingers like some kind of treasure.

“Shiu, what are you doing with that?” you asked, trying to sound casual, but your face was already red from the pure horror of it all.

He held the letter out toward you. “Well, well, little wife, seems you’ve written me a letter... a very romantic letter, if I may say so.”

Your stomach dropped. No. No no no nooooooo.

“Shiu,” you groaned, dramatically clutching your chest like you were about to faint. “Please... for the love of everything, don’t.”

He looked at you, eyes wide with mock innocence. “What? You don’t want me to read it aloud? Because I was about to tell you how much you loved me in your own words.” He dramatically cleared his throat. “‘The way you make me feel… like no one else could ever compare. Your strength and your heart captivate me in ways I never thought possible.’"

You froze, your face burning. “Shiu, stop it! God, I should never have written that!” You covered your face with both hands. “Now you’re gonna have this massive ego boost, and I’ll never hear the end of it.”

His grin was practically glowing. “Oh, I don’t know... I think I could get used to being praised like that.”

“No,” you said with a dramatic sigh, turning away from him, though you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed and amused. “This is terrible. Why would I even say something like that? I was so young and so—ugh—dramatic.”

He stepped closer, putting a hand on your shoulder to turn you around. “Don’t you dare act like you weren’t swooning over me,” he teased, his voice soft and full of affection. “I mean, look at this—‘your strength and your heart.’ You thought I was some kind of god, huh?”

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands again. “I didn’t think you were a god! Okay, maybe I did a little, but... please, just let it go!” You shook your head, your voice muffled through your fingers. “I was literally just trying to write something cute for you and... now you’re gonna be insufferable.”

He gave a playful chuckle and pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you. “Insufferable? I think I’m quite tolerable when it comes to my adoring wife.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, a mischievous glint in your eye. “You’re so full of it, Shiu.”

His grin softened, and he kissed your forehead. “But you still love me, right? Even though I know just how much you adored me.”

You dramatically sighed again, but there was no real bite behind it. “Fine, fine. But don’t get too cocky, okay?”

Shiu's arms tightened around you, and he laughed softly. “You have no idea how much I love you, sweetheart. This letter just reminded me how lucky I am to have you.”

Your heart swelled, despite the embarrassment still gnawing at you. “I can’t believe you’re making me relive my past awkwardness, though. Honestly, I might just... pass out from secondhand embarrassment. Please, Shiu. Please just... pretend you didn’t read it.”

He leaned back, gazing at you with a teasing smile, clearly enjoying the torment. “Never. Now, every time I look at you, I’ll just think about how much you adored me... and I’ll never let you forget it.”

You buried your face in his chest, half-laughing and half-groaning in pure exasperation. “You’re such a brat, you know that?”

He kissed the top of your head, the fondness in his gaze turning soft. “And you love it, don’t lie.”

You sighed again, but this time, it was full of fond affection. “Yeah, yeah. I do.”

And despite your earlier regret, you couldn’t help but feel warm inside. The letter may have been cheesy, and Shiu’s ego may have just gained a massive boost, but in the end, all that really mattered was that you were both here, together, laughing at something so silly.

That was love. And maybe... just maybe... you wouldn't mind writing a few more dramatic letters in the future.

It had been a long day.

Hiromi was hunched over his desk, the soft click of his pen as he filled out legal papers filling the quiet apartment. His mind was far from the case at hand, though- it was lost in thoughts of his beautiful wife, who was cooking dinner in the next room.

His thoughts were interrupted by the rustling of paper. He frowned as his hand brushed against something odd—a few pieces of folded paper that had somehow slipped between the case files. Curious, he unfolded one of the papers, thinking it might be something related to the case. What he found, though, made his breath catch in his throat.

It was a letter.

Not just any letter — a love letter. His wife’s handwriting.

The paper was old, the edges slightly curled from time, but it was unmistakably the words of someone who had poured their heart out. And as his eyes skimmed over the words, his stomach dropped.

The letter was filled with descriptions of him.

“I love how your smile reaches your eyes…” “How are you always so handsome? I could never get over how perfect you look even after a long day…"

The more he read, the tighter his chest felt. He couldn’t help but chuckle at how you had described him — like the knight in shining armor, but in such an innocent, endearing way that it made his heart ache.

And then there was a drawing at the back. Of his profile. A very detailed, very beautiful drawing of his face, his features so carefully captured that it almost felt like a gift all on its own.

“God, you were so sweet back then,” he murmured, running a hand over his face.

He could hear you humming in the kitchen, unaware of the storm you had just caused in his mind. He couldn’t just leave it there. No. He was going to show you how much he loved you. After all, you thought he was handsome even then. Surely, you deserved a reminder that he thought the same about you — and that he had been crazy about you for years.

He stood up, the letter clutched tightly in his hand, and made his way into the kitchen, his heart racing. You looked up, your expression warm and inviting, a little confused when you saw him holding the letter.

“Hiromi?” you asked, arching an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took a step toward you, and then another, until he was close enough to feel the warmth of your body. Without saying a word, he kissed you. Slow at first, as though savoring the moment. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer as his lips moved over yours with more urgency.

You blinked, surprised at the intensity of the kiss. Your hands instinctively rose to his shoulders, pressing into the solid muscle beneath his shirt. When he pulled away, his lips were still a breath away from yours, eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite place.

“Hiromi?” you asked again, slightly breathless now. “What’s going on? Why are you looking at me like that?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he held up the letter. “I found this,” he said, his voice a low murmur. “And I have to say… I’m feeling a little… inspired.”

You froze. Your eyes darted to the paper in his hand, your stomach doing a flip. You recognized the handwriting immediately.

“Oh God,” you muttered, cheeks flushing. “I was so dramatic back then…”

Hiromi smirked.

“I don’t know about ‘dramatic,’ but I’d say ‘adorable’ fits better.” His thumb ran over the edges of the letter, his gaze flickering between your face and the paper. “I think I need to show you how much I love you too. Since, you know, you think I’m handsome.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could, his lips were on yours again, this time with an intensity that made your heart beat erratically in your chest. His hands slid down your sides, pulling you closer until there was no space between you two.

“Hiromi,” you gasped, your fingers gripping the collar of his shirt, but he wasn’t hearing you. He was too busy kissing you like it was the only thing that mattered.

“Is that what you thought back then?” His voice was low, almost a growl, as his lips trailed down your neck, making you shiver. “You think I’m handsome, huh?”

Your face was burning, your chest rising and falling in time with the heavy breaths escaping your lips.

“I—I mean, yeah… I did—do.”

He smiled against your skin, his hands sliding under your shirt to pull you even closer, the heat of his body making everything inside you melt.

“Then I guess I’ll have to thank you.” He didn’t give you a chance to respond before his lips were on yours again, this time, even more demanding.

You knew what was coming next, and frankly, you were already done resisting. You had already called him handsome so many times in that damn letter—seven years ago—and now he was going to show you exactly what he thought about that.

He pressed you back against the counter, the intensity of his kiss never wavering as his hands moved with practiced ease.

“You never stop flattering me, do you?” he teased, his lips brushing against your ear. “I will take that as a challenge.”

Your breath hitched as his hands worked their magic, making you forget about everything except him. You had written it years ago, but tonight, in this moment, you were about to feel every word you had written — and more.

And as his lips found yours again, the room seemed to shrink.

A/N: idk, i think this was funny, maybe it was a little ooc for some of em... alSO LOOK I WROTE FOR CHOSO!!! anyways... yeah! (also someone sent me a hilarious ask abt how the jjk men would react to reader throwing themselves out of a moving car during an argument and thats fucking hilarious im writing it rn)

Masterlist.

:)

[loverboysturn]

✮⋆˙ newboy!matt and popular!reader have their first kiss !

read all newboy!matt writings here & find everything else here

note: this is obviously further down the timeline of anything else i have written for these two but i wanted to write something cute for them because everything else so far has been a lil angsty! after this the angst will continue tho..

for weeks now, you and matt had been spending more and more time together—hanging out after school most days, often spending time at his place with his brothers whilst you watched the three of them bicker, you’d take long drives around town, with no actual destination in mind, just the quiet hum of the car and the occasional glance between you. sometimes, you’d even sit in silence, both reading your books, each lost in them but still in the same space, just enjoying the presence of one another.

since you met him, there had always been something intense between you from the start, something neither of you had ever addressed. the lingering glances, the way it felt like the rest of the world was on pause when you were with him. you hadn’t said anything about your feelings for him, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it, afraid of the rejection because you know that would break you now, but you felt it, the pull towards him, you just prayed he felt the same.

tonight was no different, you were sitting on the floor of his bedroom, flipping through one of his books you’d grabbed off the shelf. matt was sat on the bed, his elbows rested on his knees, watching you as you read, his brow furrowed.

“you know” you say, not looking up at him. “i was thinking..you still haven’t told me what happened at your old school.”

matt winces, not because you asking him the question bothered him, but because he didn’t want to get into it all with you. not just yet.

“it got me to be transferred to your school, that’s all that should matter” he says, his voice casual, trying to play it down. “it’s not a big deal.”

you glance up at him then, a smirk forming on your lips. “yeah, sure. because people just get transferred to a new school for ‘no big deal’”

he rolls his eyes, leaning back slightly. “yeah, well i did.”

you close the book with a snap and set it down beside you, you were unconvinced. “i don’t buy it, pretty boy” you say, voice turning playful, almost flirty. “you have this whole mysterious tough guy act going on, and just give me a little time, and i’m gonna figure you out.”

“oh, are you now? what’s your plan of action then pretty girl?” he asks you, raising an eyebrow.

you smirk, slowly standing up. “i just want to see if all those rumors about you are all talk.”

he straightens himself up, catching the playful look in your eyes. “you sure you want to do that?”

you don’t hesitate, taking a step toward him, nudging his arm lightly. “come on tough guy, show me what you got.”

before he can react, you push him, gently but just hard enough for him to fall back on the bed. he laughs, not surprised, but impressed by your sudden act of confidence. the sound of his laugh sends a flutter through your chest, making your heart skip a beat.

“oh, it is so on now” he says, grinning as he moves quickly towards you, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you down onto the floor with him.

you let out a yelp, laughing, but quickly managing to squirm out of his grip, moving so you’re now on top of him straddling his chest, hands placed softly on his shoulders, pinning him down.

for a moment, you’re both frozen in place, completely caught in how the level of intensity in the room had switched, there was a feeling of something else, something neither of you had acknowledged yet.

you catch your breath as you instinctively lean in, your fingers curling against his t shirt, your eyes searching his face, your lips hovering just inches away from his, and you could feel your chest rise and fall quicker than usual. the playful energy between you had faded, leaving only unspoken tension that had been brewing for weeks.

matt couldn’t help it, he wasn’t sure who moved first, but before his mind could even catch up to his body, he was pulling you closer, lips crashing against yours. the kiss started slow, hesitant at first, like neither of you wanted the moment to end, it was soft, your lips brushing together in a way that felt more like an invitation than an action. as the world around you completely faded, the kiss deepened, growing more desperate, as if you had both been waiting for this for a long time, and now that it had finally come, neither of you wanted to let go.

your hands find their way into his hair, tugging him closer. you could feel his heart pounding against yours, and he pulled you in tighter, deepening the kiss so it was slow and heavy. his hands finding their way to your ass, squeezing it lightly.

then, suddenly, the door swings open.

chris walks in abruptly, “matt, have you see—“ his voice cut off as he takes in the two of you, and he pauses, blinking in disbelief. “well, well…”

before matt could even react, chris was already calling down the hall. “nick! get in here, you gotta see this!”

[deadlychansaw]

— hope

pairing: Hwang Jun-ho x reader

warnings: vomiting, no use of y/n, bit angst, pregnancy, it happens during ep 2 s2

a/n: omg first time writing something like this, i hope someone enjoy this 🫣

00:30 was the number sparkling in neon red in her bedside watch. She couldn't stop looking at it. She couldn't sleep. How could she? The bed too big and cold for her to be alone, she missed her husband. Where was he?

She thought that after the coma he would retire and live peacefully with her, maybe in some cabin in the woods with two kids and a dog. this thought alone made her want to tear up.

She knew being a police officer was dangerous, so every time he wasn't home she feared that something had happened. This made her want to throw up, and she did.

That was unusual for her, maybe... no. It couldn't be. But when was the last time she had her period again? It was nine days late, this was also unusual. How haven't she noticed it?

00:45. She couldn't wait until morning so she picked up her car and went to a 24h open drugstore

"Do you need any help, miss?"

"I want a pregnancy test"

"Are you alright, dear?"

She hadn't noticed that small tears started to run down her face.

"I will be"

As the old lady gave her the test she smiled sympathetically and said:

"I'm sure you will. You don't need to be afraid"

" My husband is a cop" She felt the need to reply

"Oh, I see. But you will be fine, dear. I felt the same when my husband fought in war."

This time, she didn't reply.

She got home after speeding the car a little more than necessary and running a few red lights and went straight to the bathroom to do the goddamn test.

Palms sweaty, hands shaking and feet stomping in circles. It hasn't even passed the three minutes the test needed to be ready, just a few more seconds and...

oh.

Positive. p-o-s-i-t-i-v-e.

She was pregnant and wasn't even sure her husband would return home. Where are you Jun-ho?

"Babe, why are you sleeping on the couch?"

His voice reached her ears like the light in the end of a dark tunnel.

"I was waiting for you"

"My love, you know you don't need to"

"But I wanted to. Where were you?"

"I was in some kind of a car chase, but they shot in my tires"

That made her eyes open wide. "What? Chasing who? Are you hurt?"

"I'm not hurt. I wish I could tell you everything but i don't wanna put you at risk"

"I accepted the risk the day i accepted to be your wife. Please tell me. I'd rather know what i'm scared of"

"I guess you're right"

So he tells her everything. The games, his brother, his plan with Gi-hun. Everything.

"That is awful. Unbelievably awful. How can some people be so disgusting and evil? Gosh, that makes me sick"

She ran to the bathroom and started to vomit in the toilet, he ran after her and held her hair.

"Are you okay? I know it's s lot to process"

"Oh my God, I'm sorry for this, now you'll never want to kiss me again."

"There's not a world where i wouldn't want to kiss you" He pressed a soft kiss to her temple. "But let's brush those teeth, shall we?"

Jun-ho gets up to put toothpaste in her toothbrush and give it to her.

"I don't know what i did to deserve you, Jun-ho"

"I am the lucky one here, babe. You're still here with me after everything i told you."

"i'm not leaving your side. Never."

He picks her up in bridal style.

"What are you doing?"

"Putting my wife to bed, as i should"

He really was the sweetest thing in her life, she needed to tell him already. All the what-ifs started coming to head again what if he doesn't want a child? what if he doesn't have time to form a family? what if he never come back home anymore?

"Babe, are you crying?"

"Do you really need to search for that island?"

"I do. These games need to stop."

"I don't want anything bad happening to you"

"I promise it won't. I will always come back home to you" He seals the promise by joining their lips in a long, slow and passionate kiss.

"Jun-ho, I need to tell you something but i'm so afraid of how you're gonna react."

"You don't need to be afraid, my love. I'm always here for you no matter what"

"I- I am pregnant" She doesn't wait for him to answer. " I know it's not the right time, and maybe you don't even want to be a dad and-"

She sees that he opened his characteristically big and warm smile, one that lights up her whole world.

"Are you... happy?"

"Are you kidding? Babe i feel like the luckiest guy of all South Korea. I'm so happy. Oh my god, i'm gonna have a daughter "

That made her chuckle.

"We don't know if it's a girl"

"Oh i'm sure of that. We need to celebrate"

"Celebrate? At this time? How?

"Hmm, i can think of a few ways..."

And she had a feeling she haven't felt in a while. relief. Hope.

[ptergwen]

hi ! i had a dream like this so idk if its too specific or anything hut could u write a fluff/angst about reader being in a beach holiday with family/peter, theyre at the beach swimming and being all cute underwater and stuff- peter tries to hold/grab reader and accidentally hurts them bc of his super strength. theyre mad at him for a bit but they make up that night with heaps of fluff, cuddles, words of affirmation-ect. sorry if thats dumb fhdgdgf thank youuu <33

a boy who's jacked and kind

w/c: tba

warnings: a very sorry and sad peter, like two swears

a/n: peep the sabrina reference hehe i had a lot of fun with this one! decided to make it a beach day with friends, i hope that's okay & you enjoy <3

"marco!"

"polo!"

you and your friends scatter around the ocean while peter tries to catch you. you're at the beach for the day, which is exciting because you don't get to go often living in the city. peter pushes through the water with his eyes closed, hands outstretched in front of him. if he catches one of you, he wins.

"marco!"

peter is getting closer to you and ned. mj is the farthest away, deeper into the ocean. she silently signals for the two of you to swim towards her.

"polo!"

you all shout in unison. ned wades through the water frantically, mj continuing to swim in the opposite direction. you're not as quick to pick up on her guidance. you won't be able to make it to the two of them without peter catching you, so you keep swimming the other way.

"marco!"

"polo!"

ned and mj sound kind of far, but you seem to be close. peter follows your voice with a smirk, eyes still squeezed shut.

"marco!"

you can hear peter getting close from behind you.

"polo!"

you look behind your shoulder to see peter nearing you.

"go, y/n!" mj shouts. "run!" ned echoes.

"marco!"

you can't help but let out a giggle as peter gets closer and closer. you leave the water and start running on the wet sand, your boyfriend right on your trail.

"polo!"

peter tackles you from behind, pushing you down and landing beside you. you squeal and land in the sand, hard. it knocks the wind out of you. peter laughs softly and rolls on top of you.

"i win."

your lip quivers a bit, tears pricking your eyes reflexively from the pain of the fall. peter's cocky demeanor instantly changes, going into concerned boyfriend mode.

"baby, what's wrong?"

he catches a stray tear with his thumb, his lips forming a frown.

"why're you crying?"

peter's thumb caresses your cheek. you shoo his hand away.

"i’m not, that just fuckin' hurt. can you get off me?"

peter rolls off of you, watching you get to your feet with furrowed brows.

"oh no, baby, i'm sorry. i just got caught up in the game... i didn't realize how hard i pushed you."

"you have super strength, peter."

you brush the sand off yourself, sniffing back a mixture of salt water and snot. peter's voice quiets.

"sometimes i forget."

"yeah, i know. it's fine."

"but i feel bad." peter stands up. "are you okay?"

he reaches for your hand. you shrug and pull it away, crossing your arms over your chest.

"i'm fine, pete. just gimme a little while."

mj and ned meet you and peter on the sand. they form a circle with you, peter staying back. his eyes remain fixed on you, filled with worry.

"what happened, you let penis parker win? i thought we had a plan," mj jokes. "yeah, why'd you go rogue? we were supposed to stick together," ned agrees.

"i went the other way 'cause i wasn't gonna get to you guys fast enough, then peter tackled me."

their gazes shift over to peter, who sheepishly scratches the back of his neck.

"dude!" ned punches peter's shoulder playfully. "major foul."

"it was an accident," peter mumbles, rubbing his shoulder.

"sure it was," mj deadpans.

peter is looking at you again, but you avoid looking at him. mj picks up on the tension between the two of you.

"hey, you good?"

"i'm kinda annoyed at peter. it hurt when he pushed me. i know he didn't mean to, but still, you know?"

"what a dumbass. come on, let's go get ice creams or something."

you give mj a half smile, throwing an arm around her shoulders. mj flips peter off as you two pass by him. ned starts yapping to peter about building the perfect sandcastle, but he doesn't listen. he's too distracted by his guilt over hurting you.

-

you're sleeping over at peter's later that night. you'd gotten back from the beach a little while ago, and nothing sounds better than cuddling up in bed with him. he had been trying to give you space since the tackling incident, careful not to be too touchy out of fear of hurting you again.

you feel bad for being kind of cold to him. even though you were upset in the moment, you got over it. you miss him being his usual touchy self. it's peter who's been choosing to distance himself.

peter lets you shower first, then he takes one. he finds you waiting on his bed after. you're wearing one of his hoodies and a pair of boxers.

"c'mere, i wanna cuddle."

"you sure?"

"of course. why wouldn't i be?"

"i just wanna make sure you have enough space. y'know, after earlier."

you groan.

"i’m serious, y/n. i hate that i hurt you."

"peter," you stand up.

"and i’m sorry. really, really sorry. i’m never gonna let anything like that happen ever again, okay? i wasn't thinking."

"i know, peter. accident's happen, baby."

your arms circle around peter's shirtless torso. he doesn't trust himself to hold you just yet, so he keeps his arms at his sides.

"just because it was an accident doesn't make it okay."

you take peter's arms yourself and wrap them around you. his doe eyes meet yours. you hold his gaze reassuringly, an arm around his neck and a hand cupping his cheek.

"i like that you have super strength."

"you do?"

"yeah. it makes me feel safe, knowing you can always protect me. plus, you've got big arms. that's hot."

peter chuckles, perking up at that.

"sometimes you can't help how strong you are. i get it, pete. it's not your fault."

you nudge peter's nose with yours. peter moves in closer to you, letting out a sigh of relief. he kisses your forehead, lips lingering there for a moment.

"thank you. i love you."

"i love you, too."

you leave a kiss on the bridge of his nose.

"sorry i was kinda mean to you earlier. it was just my first reaction."

"no, no. it's okay, baby. i’m the only one who should be sorry."

"stop apologizing. you don't have to be sorry anymore."

"but i am. i’m still really sorry i-"

you shove at peter's chest, making him fall backwards onto the bed, mimicking the way he tackled you earlier. you straddle his lap and take his face in your hands, giggling. peter carefully holds you on top of him by your sides. you lean forward so you're face to face.

"i forgive you."

you connect yours and peter's lips. he happily kisses you back, smiling into it.

tags (old taglist y'all sorry, gotta make a new form!):

@idkeverythingistakennn @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @lnmp89 @mystic-writings @jenoslov @crvshnburnn @yourlocalomlette @starlight-starks @belovasheart @liltimmyst @eviewriites @hollandsangel @parkerctrl @eichenhouseproperty @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @varshhyy @elllebutnotwoods @magicalxdaydream @tayyx @parkerdadda @valluvsu @ronweasleysslut @peterficrecs @winchestersgirl222 @sunf1ower-vol6 @fishingirl12 @raajali3 @niktwazny303 @marvelgurl @thismessymasterpiece @alina02 @sapphic_romanoff @itsjanedeluca @lomlbuckyy @prancerrparkerr @urfayevorite @getwellsoontana

[ruewrote]

𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑔𝑜.

PAIRING: jj maybank x fem!reader WARNINGS: jealously, arguments, no use of y/n GENRE: angst SONG INSPIRATION: is there someone else? by the weeknd WORD COUNT: 4.1k REQUESTED: yes NOTE: can you tell that me breaking no contact didn't go well?

navigation | ask | jj maybank masterlist

you were tired. not the kind of tired you could fix with a good night’s sleep or an extra cup of coffee. 

no, this was deeper. heavier. it had been weighing on you for months, maybe longer, and no matter how much you told yourself you were done.

that this time would be the last, you always found yourself right back where you started, with jj.

it wasn’t the kissing that made you feel this way, not exactly. you liked kissing him. god, you loved kissing him. the way his lips tasted faintly of weed and beer, the way he held you like you were the only thing grounding him. 

the way his stupid grin would soften just for you, his cocky bravado melting into something almost vulnerable. for a few fleeting hours, it felt like everything you wanted, everything you’d dreamed of since the first time you realised how deep your feelings for him ran.

but it was never real. not when the alcohol was buzzing in his veins, not when he whispered things he’d never say in the harsh light of day. “you know it’s always been you, right?” his voice would crack sometimes, and you’d feel your heart breaking and healing all at once. 

or there’d be the quiet, desperate promises. “one day, i’m gonna do right by you. i swear.” and for a moment, you’d believe him.

you always believed him.

but then the sun would rise, and jj would be gone. not gone in the literal sense. no, he’d still be around, cracking jokes, causing trouble, being him. but it was like the version of him you got in the middle of the night didn’t exist in the daylight. 

instead, you’d see him with someone else, his arm slung around some girl, his attention completely absorbed by her like you’d never even crossed his mind.

it wasn’t just one time. it wasn’t even a few times. it was a pattern, and it was breaking you. because as much as you wanted to hate him for it, you couldn’t. you couldn’t hate him for being who he was, for not giving you the thing you so desperately wanted but he so clearly wasn’t ready to give.

you hated the way you let him in, over and over again. the way you believed the things he said, even when he never followed through on them. you hated the way your heart sped up when he looked at you, even though you knew that look wouldn’t last. 

you hated the way your chest ached every time you saw him with someone else, the way you had to swallow the lump in your throat and force a smile like it didn’t matter.

but it did matter. it mattered too much.

so, you told yourself you were done. this time, for real. no more stolen kisses, no more whispered promises. no more jj.

moving on wasn’t easy, though. it wasn’t like you could just flip a switch and stop caring. but you tried. you told yourself it was okay to look at other guys, to flirt a little, to remind yourself that there were people out there who might actually be able to give you what jj couldn’t.

at first, it felt hollow. empty. none of the guys you talked to really clicked, and you started to wonder if you were just wasting your time. but then there was jackson.

jackson wasn’t like jj. he didn’t have that wild spark, that untamed energy that drew people in. but maybe that was a good thing. because jackson was steady. reliable. the kind of guy who made you feel safe instead of uncertain.

he wasn’t one for grand gestures or flashy moves. but he was thoughtful in ways that caught you off guard. like when he texted you first thing in the morning, asking how you slept. or when he remembered little things about you. your favorite coffee order, the song you hummed under your breath when you thought no one was listening.

and maybe the chemistry wasn’t instant. maybe there weren’t fireworks or that pull you’d always felt with jj. but there was something else. something quieter. something warmer.

still, there were moments when doubt crept in. 

late at night, when your phone buzzed and you half hoped it was him. even though you knew it wouldn’t be. or when you caught yourself comparing the two of them, wondering if you’d ever feel the same fire you felt for jj with someone else.

the doubt lingered. refusing to leave no matter how much you tried to shake it. 

the room had quieted down, the hum of conversation replaced by the soft rustling of the evening. the others had scattered. pope was buried in his notes on the porch, sarah and john b had disappeared into the twinkie for some ‘alone time,’ and kie had made herself scarce, muttering something about a late-night walk.

that left just you and jj, sprawled on opposite ends of the couch. you had tucked yourself into the corner, scrolling through your phone, a quiet giggle escaping your lips now and then. it wasn’t intentional, but each laugh seemed to draw jj’s attention, his eyes flickering toward you.

“what’s so funny over there?” he finally asked, his tone light but laced with curiosity.

you glanced up at him briefly, your lips still tugged into a soft smile. "nothing," you said casually, shrugging as you turned your attention back to your phone.

he shifted, sitting up slightly, leaning toward you, his eyebrows raised. "nah, come on. don’t give me that. who’s got you giggling like that? share with the class."

you hesitated, your fingers tightening around your phone as you debated whether or not to answer. you weren’t doing anything wrong, not really, but something about admitting you were texting jackson felt... complicated.

"it’s just jackson," you said finally, keeping your tone light. "he sent me something funny."

jj froze for a split second, so brief you might have missed it if you weren’t paying attention. but then he leaned back, his smirk slipping into place. "oh, jackson, huh?" he drawled, his voice dripping with something that wasn’t quite teasing but wasn’t far from it either. 

"what’s he got you laughing about? some dad joke or something?"

you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way his sudden shift made your stomach twist. "it’s not a big deal, jayj," you said, shrugging again. "just a funny meme. relax."

"relax? i’m totally relaxed," he shot back, but there was an edge to his voice now, subtle but obvious to you. he stretched out on the couch, his arm draping over the back, his eyes fixed on you. "i mean, good for you, right? jackson seems like... a solid guy."

you could feel the tension creeping into the air between you, and you hated it. you hated how jj could make something so small feel so heavy, how his words, his tone, could tangle you up inside even when you tried so hard not to let them.

"yeah, he is," you said quietly, your eyes still on your phone. "he’s nice."

"nice," jj repeated, the word rolling off his tongue like it left a bad taste in his mouth. "that’s great. real exciting."

you looked up at him then, your gaze meeting his, and for a moment, the cocky mask he wore slipped. there was something raw in his eyes, something he couldn’t quite hide no matter how hard he tried.

"why do you care?" you asked softly, the question hanging between you.

he opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again, his jaw tightening. for a moment, it looked like he might actually say something real, something honest. but then he shook his head, his smile sliding back into place.

"i don’t," he said with a shrug, his voice light and breezy. "just curious, that’s all. you know me, always gotta know what’s going on."

but you weren’t convinced, and from the way he avoided your eyes, you knew he wasn’t either.

you turned back to your phone, trying to focus on jackson’s message, but jj’s presence was impossible to ignore. the warmth of his presence, the way his leg brushed against yours when he shifted. everything about him pulled at you, even when you didn’t want it to.

the tension had been building for days, his snide comments had started small. barely noticeable jabs that you brushed off with a roll of your eyes. but they didn’t stop. every interaction seemed to carry a sharper edge, a hidden layer of something he wouldn’t address. and while he never said anything outright about what had been between you, it was there, unspoken, colouring every word that left his mouth.

by the end of the week, it had become unbearable.

you were sitting at home, sprawled on your bed with the tv on for background noise, trying to find some semblance of peace. but jj had shown up unannounced, like he always did, at first, he just hovered, pacing around your room, muttering something about john b, then pope, then kie. and when that didn’t hold his attention, he turned his focus to you.

"really?" he scoffed, nodding toward your phone. "let me guess, you’re texting jackson. again."

you froze, your grip on the phone tightening as your pulse spiked. he was baiting you. again, but this time, you weren’t in the mood to play along. "what’s your problem, jj?" you said, not looking up.

"my problem?" he said, his voice cutting as his eyes flicked over you. "i don’t have a problem. just didn’t realise you were into guys who need a manual to figure you out. guess you finally found someone slow enough to keep up."

that was it. that was the breaking point.

you stood up so fast your phone fell onto the floor, your chest heaving as you rounded on him. "what the hell is wrong with you?" you snapped, your voice louder than you’d intended. 

"you’ve been like this all week, taking cheap shots, acting like a total asshole. why? because i’m trying to move on? because i’m finally doing something for myself instead of waiting around for you to get your shit together?"

jj blinked, startled by the sudden outburst, but his defenses went up just as quickly. his jaw tightened, and he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back slightly. "i don’t know what you’re talking about," he said, his voice colder now. "i’m just calling it like i see it."

"calling it like you see it?" you repeated, your voice shaking with anger. "no, jj. you’re being a coward. you can’t handle the fact that i’m not waiting around for you anymore, so you’re lashing out like some jealous boyfriend. grow up!"

"jealous?" he scoffed, his laugh bitter. "of jackson? please. the guy you’re settling for?”

"stop it," you snapped, your voice breaking slightly. "just stop. you don’t get to do this. you don’t get to act like this when you’re the one who’s been stringing me along for months. you don’t get to pick and choose when to care about me. you either want me, jj, or you don’t. but i can’t keep doing this with you."

for a moment, the room was silent, your words hanging heavy in the air between you. jj’s expression flickered, his mask slipping for just a second, and you saw something raw in his eyes. guilt. pain. maybe even regret. but it wasn’t enough. not this time.

"that’s what i thought," you said, your voice quieter now but still stern. "you can’t even say it, can you? you can’t admit that you don’t want me, but you can’t stand the thought of someone else making me happy either. that’s not love, jj. that’s just being selfish."

he opened his mouth to say something, but you didn’t give him the chance. you shook your head, turning away from him as tears stung the corners of your eyes. "just go," you said, your voice trembling. "i can’t do this anymore."

but he didn’t move. he stayed frozen in the same spot, staring at you, like he was waiting for something.

you whipped around to face him, your hands shaking. "why the hell are you still here?" you snapped, fury rising in your chest. "are you really just gonna stand there? if you won’t leave, then i will."

without another word, you turned and stormed down the stairs, the adrenaline making your steps faster, sharper. you grabbed the door, slamming it behind you so hard the house seemed to tremble. 

you didn’t stop. your feet pounded the pavement, the cool night air biting at your skin, but you didn’t care. in all your anger, you hadn’t even grabbed a jacket, and now the chill of the night was cutting through you. 

you found yourself heading to the beach without even thinking. the sound of the waves crashing against the shore was distant, muffled by the pounding of your pulse in your ears.

you reached the sand, and collapsed down, too exhausted to care about the discomfort. the wind howled around you, you pulled your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them as if you could hold yourself together that way. 

the tears that had been threatening for so long finally broke free, flooding down your cheeks as the full weight of it hit you.

you couldn’t stop the sobs, each one shaking through your body. it felt like every bit of the anger, the hurt, the confusion, and the love you had poured into jj over the months came crashing down all at once. it wasn’t fair.

none of it was. you had given him everything, trusted him, believed his empty promises, and now... you were sitting alone on the beach in the dark, freezing cold, with nothing left but the ache in your chest.

you buried your face into your knees, the salt of your tears mixing with the salt of the ocean breeze, as you let the emptiness swallow you whole.

the tears had stopped, but they clung to your skin, leaving long streaks down your cheeks. your eyes were swollen, your lips tender and raw from the sobbing, and you just sat there, numb, staring out at the dark expanse of the ocean. 

the waves crashed relentlessly, matching the rhythm of the ache inside you, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. 

you had no idea how much time had passed. minutes? hours? the world felt like it had gone quiet around you, just you and the ocean. and then, the sound of footsteps. at first, you didn’t acknowledge it. 

you figured it was just the wind or some passing stranger, but the steps grew closer. you held your breath, the space around you suddenly feeling claustrophobic, like everything in you knew who was coming, even before you saw him.

the sound of a thud broke the silence as someone sat down beside you. you turned slowly, the muscles in your neck aching, but there he was. of course, it was him.

for a moment, all you could do was stare, the disbelief hitting you. your chest tightened again, and before you could stop it, a tear slipped down your cheek. you wiped it away angrily, but it didn't matter. the damage was already done.

a bitter, humourless laugh escaped you, the sound raw and broken. "why can’t you just leave me alone?" you muttered, the words barely audible. you tried to look away, but your eyes wouldn’t shift from him. 

you hated the way your heart twisted at the sight of him, even now, even after everything.

jj didn’t say anything at first, just sitting there beside you, his presence heavy. you could feel his gaze on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it. the silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken things.

you glanced back over to him to find his own eyes were swollen, lips and nose tinged pink from what you could only guess were from his own breakdown, his hands still trembling as they rested at his sides. 

you hated how, despite all the pain he’d caused, you still found him pretty in this moment. the vulnerability in him, the way he wore his brokenness so openly, it made your chest ache. it was the last thing you wanted to feel. 

he didn’t speak. neither did you. it felt like you were both waiting for the other to break first. but it wasn’t until the sound of the waves crashing against the shore felt too deafening that he finally spoke, his voice cracked, raw.

“i… i’m sorry," he began, voice thick with something like regret. "i’ve been a fucking idiot, okay? i know i have. and i don’t know how to fix it. i don’t know what i’m doing, or what i’ve done to you… but i need you to know that it’s not because i don’t care.”

his words were stuttering, full of shame, but the way he said it, the way his hands fidgeted, his desperation was impossible to ignore.

“i–god, i fucked this up, didn’t i? i… i always do this. i push, i pull, i make you feel like shit, and then… then i can’t stand the thought of losing you. but every time you walk away, i don’t know how to make you stay. i never know what the right thing to say is, and i just... i just hurt you again and again. i’m so fucking sorry."

you were still staring out at the ocean, fighting the hurt that sat heavy in your chest, fighting the urge to listen to the softness in his voice, to hear him out. but you couldn’t. not yet.

“i’m not asking for your forgiveness,” he said, his voice breaking. “i don’t deserve it. but i need you to know how much i fucking care about you. more than i know how to say. more than i can ever show. it’s like i don’t know what to do with it, so i make everything worse. but you–you matter to me more than anything else in my stupid fucking life. and if you can find it in you to forgive me... if you can just look at me the way you used to, i’ll do anything. i swear, i’ll do whatever it takes.”

his voice was softer now, quieter, almost pleading as he inched closer to you on the sand, his face full of regret. his eyes searched yours, desperate to find any trace of warmth, any sign that you still cared.

“i’m begging you,” he said, his voice trembling. “please. i can’t lose you. i can’t. i know i fucked up, but please. give me the chance to make it right. please don’t walk away from me. not like this.”

the words hung in the air between you, his desperate plea reverberating in the cold night as you sat there, trembling from the weight of it all. your chest felt tight, the pain of everything that had happened pressing on you, threatening to suffocate you. 

his words reached you, pierced through the numbness you had been trying to build around yourself. but you weren’t ready yet, not ready to let go of the anger, the hurt. you wanted to stay mad at him, wanted to keep your distance, to protect yourself.

but you couldn’t.

you felt the floodgates open, and the dam you’d so carefully built up around your heart cracked, letting the years of suppressed feelings break free in one overwhelming rush.

the tears came first, unbidden, streaking down your cheeks as your breath caught in your throat. you wiped at your face, trying to hold it together, but the weight of everything, the heartache that had built up for so long, was impossible to ignore. you turned toward him, your voice shook as you spoke, barely a whisper at first.

“you don’t get it,” you said, the rawness in your voice making it hard to speak. “you don’t get how much i wanted this… how much i wanted you.”

your hands were trembling now, your heart hammering as the words poured out, no longer able to keep them locked inside. “i’ve been holding on to this... this stupid hope, waiting for you to realise how i feel. but i couldn’t do it anymore, jj. i couldn’t keep waiting for you to come around. for you to see me. to see us. every time i tried to let you in, you pushed me away. every time you said you cared, i believed you, and you made me feel like an idiot for it."

you paused, trying to steady your breath as your chest tightened again. 

“i kept telling myself i was done. that i was over it. that i could move on. but every time i saw you with someone else, every time you pulled away, it tore me apart. it felt like i was drowning in it, jj. and i kept asking myself why i kept putting myself through that, why i kept letting you hurt me. but the truth is, i can’t stop wanting you. i can’t stop needing you.”

you took a shaky breath, your eyes brimming with tears again, but this time, they felt different. this time, they were from the depths of everything you’d been holding back. the fear. the hurt. the longing.

“i can’t do it anymore,” you whispered. “i need you. i’ve needed you for so long, but you never, never, let me be close enough. and it’s breaking me. it has been for so long.”

"i don’t want to be this broken, desperate person anymore," you continued, the tears coming faster now. "i can’t keep waiting for you to make up your mind. but god… god, i need you to choose me. i need you to finally see me. not as some game, not as someone you can just toss aside when it's not convenient for you anymore. i need to know you’re here for me. that you want me too.”

you looked up at him then, your heart in your throat, his eyes were wide, filled with a mix of guilt, pain. “i need you, jj,” you said again, your voice barely more than a whisper now. "i don’t care if it’s messy. i don’t care if it’s hard. i just need to know you’re here… that you’re really here."

the weight of it all hung in the air between you, and you felt exposed. but for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t care about hiding anymore. you were done pretending you didn’t need him. done pretending you could walk away from what had been growing between you for so long.

he reached out, tentatively at first, like he was scared you’d pull away. his fingers brushed against yours, a gentle touch that seemed to break the tension in the air.

“hey… hey, look at me.” his voice was softer than you had ever heard it, like he was trying to steady himself, trying to make sure he didn’t fuck this up. he moved closer to you, his other hand resting carefully on your cheek, wiping away a tear with the pad of his thumb.

“i’m here,” he said, his voice low, but full of conviction now. “i’m right here, and i’ve always been here, in my messed up way. i know i’ve hurt you. i know i’ve been a fucking idiot. i don’t deserve you, but damn it, i’m not going anywhere. i don’t want anyone else. it’s always been you, even when i was too stupid to admit it to myself. but i’m not afraid anymore.”

he let out a shaky breath, and you could see how real he was being. it wasn’t just the guilt on his face anymore; it was something else, something pure. it was like he was finally letting himself be vulnerable with you, really showing you what he’d been hiding all this time.

“i’m so sorry for making you feel like you had to fight for me,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “i should’ve chosen you from the start. i should’ve seen you. really seen you, for who you are. not just the person who’s always there when i need them. you’re more than that. you always have been.”

his forehead pressed gently against yours, and you could feel his breath mingling with yours. his hand moved to your back, pulling you closer, as if he was afraid that if he let you go, you’d slip away forever.

“i need you too,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “i’m not perfect. i’m never gonna be perfect. but i’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how much you mean to me. because you are my choice. always. you’re all i want.”

the warmth of his words, the tenderness in his touch, broke something open in you, you allowed yourself to lean into him fully. 

all the walls you had built around your heart started to crumble, piece by piece.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

© ruewrote 2024.

[penvisions]

by the grit of sandpaper {honor me}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: As the seasons change, you and Joel tackle both big things and small that make up life in Jackson. Underlying it all, is one thought that prompts him to craft something he thinks will be even better than the cutting boards you lovingly used every day.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: canon typical language, canon typical violence, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, lots of feelings, angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, joel just needs his own warning actually, arguing, reader gets overwhelmed, reader deals with ptsd and general trauma, mentions of child loss, mentions of lost family / loved ones, winter weather as a trigger, lonliness, reader struggles with seasonal depression, mentions of outbreak day, heated interactions, smut, p in v, unprotected p in v, reader has no canon name but a commonly used nickname, some descriptions f hair length and skin tone are made (they are not set in stone), this may be triggering so please be careful if you are sensitive to any of these, i just want y'all to be safe

A/N: i've had this in my drafts for the longest time and finally got around to finishing it. not gonna lie, i made myself sad with some of it but i think this is a good and realistic depiction of a healthy relationship and dealing with hectic life stuff. so glad to be sharing more of them with y'all, they mean so much to me

ao3 link || series masterlist || navigation || ko-fi

The deep timber of a guffaw bursts into the bright blue sky, scaring a collection of birds into flight from where they were searching for food by the water’s edge.

“Oh, shut it!” You shout, no heat behind your words but bubbling laughter, water sparkling all over you as it soaks into skin and fabric alike.

Joel uses one hand to mime zipping his mouth, even as the corners of his lips lift up into a grin. He’s glowing in the midday sun, bronze skin on display as he mirrors your choice of a tank top to stave off some of the heat. Joel is standing proudly at the shore, pebbles and larger rocks firm under his sturdy boots. His weight has accented itself, the stones shifting to accommodate him. He’s a vision, fishing pole in the thick curl of his hand, propping it up on his hip in an almost suggestive manner. His other hand steadies the pole, the line cast out shaking to the very end where it disappears into the gray blue lake.

You huff, shaking the cool water that had splashed all over you. The fish you had caught wiggling something fierce as you tried to unhook it from the end of your line. It had flipped and flopped, slapping its slimy, scaled body and sharp tail thrashing against your scrabbling hands. The splash of it diving back into the water had been large, spraying you to soak through your tank top. The light color of it darkened and damp combined with the near panicked expression you had throughout the entire moment.

Chuckles rumble from between flashing teeth until he catches sight of the blood dripping down your arm. Twisted up and at an angle for you to access the damage as the sting set in.

His focus never leaves you even as he leans down to rest the handle of his fishing rod down, wedging it between two larger boulders to keep it propped up. His longer hair tousles from where he had it tucked behind his ears, a strand falling to curl over his forehead as he’s suddenly in your personal space.

“It doesn’t look too bad,” You soothe even as you feel the sting of the water that trails down your arm and seeps into the cut.

“Darlin’, you’re drippin’ blood.” Joel quietly disagrees, taking the handkerchief from his back pocket and dabbing at the wound before holding it tight, curling his palm over the four inch line.

You can’t stop the hiss that escapes from deep in your chest, the pain flaring at the pressure. His eyes fly up from where he’s looking for any signs of blood seeping through the fabric to catch the grimace that pulls your lips down at the corners. You see the panic flit in the back of his eyes, the sun turning them amber as they take stock of you all over now. Worry evident in the grip he keeps on your injury and the other palm that cups your shoulder to keep you both steady on the rocky shore.

He's quiet, mind working a mile a minute as the weight of your injury settles atop his shoulders. But you don’t want it to affect him this way, the sight of blood suddenly jarring him back to the gruff man he had once been. The horrors of the world too much for him to not be consumed by it. You want your Joel back, the one he had been just moments ago.

“Hey,” You whisper, other hand coming up to cradle his strong, scruffy jaw. “I’m okay, Joel, I promise.”

“You better be, otherwise I’m gonna swath you in bubble wrap.” His plush lips well with color as he chews at his bottom lip, peeling the fabric from your cut to check on it. The blood clotted, wound sealing up as best it could, and he lets out a relieved sigh that fans his warm breath over you.

“Joel, bubble wrap doesn’t exist anymore.” You say with a roll of your eyes, hoping he sees the feigned petulance. He fastens the handkerchief securely around your arm, tying it off to keep it in place as he rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes in a long blink. You see the tension leak out of him as he takes a deep breath, the beating of his heart calming beneath your palm on his chest.

“Hush, lemme just worry about you, okay?” He’s a provider, a caretaker, a protector. It’s in his nature to switch from carefree and silly to focused and shielding in a heartbeat. It was something you admired, mirrored in him as it makes up a part of you are as well. Two sides of the same coin, connected. Bonded. Understanding.

“That goes both ways, Miller.” Your breath hitches as he pulls you flush against him, the feel of his firm body against yours still takes your breath away even after all this time. His lips quirk up at the corners before he captures your own.

The day spent at the lake was Joel’s way of getting you out of your head, with the anniversary of Aiden’s death fast approaching at the end of the week. He did his best not to push conversation if you spaced out during meals or he found you out walking among the budding olive trees. He did his best to make you either a mug of warm coffee or a chilled drink and press it into your hands to help soothe the thoughts that consumed you. You know you could come to him with anything, talk to him about anything and he wants you to know that he’s there. Even if you can’t find the words sometimes.

He's watching now, as you linger in front of the second bedroom. Aiden’s bedroom, the door closed by his own hand all those years ago as you both set off for the patrol that plagues your nightmares. Joel hadn’t meant to, but he had bumped the handle one day as he waddled down the hallway with planks of wood that would become shelves in your shared bedroom. Book collection growing as he brought more home from patrol and Ellie traded for ones that she thought you would both like.

That same fire that had consumed you six months ago as you hurled hurt words and wooden spoons alike at him in your kitchen had reared up. You had just so happened to be coming home when he had realized the door opened and you caught sight of him with his hand on the knob as his curiosity got the better of him. A quick glance was all he had taken, but that split second in which he glimpsed an unmade bed and piles of clothing along the floor before he began to close it had been enough for you to rush at him with sharp words and quick motions.

Through your tears you had demanded why he would do such a thing, invade his privacy like that. Your privacy. And he realized his mistake, the split-second decision made out of curiosity had caused enough damage that he had slept on the couch out of guilt for disturbing you when sleep came to him late that same night. He had woken up to you curled atop him, throw blanket he had rucked off over your tangled legs and your head pressed right over his heart.

Now though, it’s you who stands in front of the door with a hand on the knob. Joel steps out into the hall with a towel around his waist, skin warm from the time spent in the sun and the water he had used to wash off the remnants of the trip.

“Olive…you okay?” He keeps his voice low, not wanting to spook you. You don’t startle, but you do turn to look at him with wide eyes and a firm set to your lips. Wet footprints mark the hallway as he approaches you, reaching out to rest his hand atop yours and remove it from the brass. Your skin is cold against his as he places your palm over his heart. It thuds against his ribcage as you look up at him with such conflicted eyes, tears brimming the lash line and then falling over to race down your cheeks as you suck in a shuddering breath.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Breath with me, okay? You’re okay, sweetheart.” His own palm spreads warm against your chest, the neckline of your tank top scrunching up with the action. He breaths deep, counts to three and then exhales, making sure you mimic him until your heart beats at a calmer rate. He doesn’t care that the warmth of his skin cools and the droplets of water on his shoulders now chill him in the conditioned air of the home. He’s worried about you, about the shakes he sees move your shoulders, the arm of the hand he holds, the wobble of your head.

He ducks his head to catch your eyes, a tiredness he knows all too well tinging the color of them. You look like you’re about to say something but your mouth snaps shut seconds after it opens.

“Take your time, I’m here, not goin’ anywhere.” The spot of blood on the handkerchief draws his brows together and he carefully ushers you towards the bedroom. You move pliantly, allowing him to set you on the edge of the bed. He kneels to take your boots off, socks too. And you seem to come back to yourself while he disappears to wash his hands and gather supplies for the cut.

“Joel?” You croak, throat thick.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He speaks softly, voice washing over you and almost massaging your tense muscles.

“Can we…can you…h-help me tidy up h-his room tomorrow?”

“I’ll help you with anything, but are you sure?”

All you could do is nod, reaching for him the moment he finishes wrapping the bandage around your cut and tucking it into itself.

“He would’ve li-liked you, I know it.”

“I would’ve liked him too, Olive, I promise you that.” He offers you a soft smile, eyes so earnest that it makes you feel like he really would’ve, that he’s not just saying it to make you feel better. But that’s the thing about Joel, he doesn’t say stuff he doesn’t mean. His words are important.

“He loved me, just wanted to see me happy. You make me happy, y-you make me so happy, Joel.” Your lip quivers as you look down at him with tears trailing down your cheeks. “He deserved to be happy too.”

“He was, sweetheart, you made sure he was. Safe and happy here in Jackson, you gave him the chance to have a life here.”

“It wasn’t long enough.” Words barely choked out on a sob has him surging up, forgetting the wet cloth and tube of ointment on the floor.

“It never is.” He crowds you, arms wrapping around you and hauling you up the bed with him. You tried to move with him, but all you did was cling to his chest with your head buried in his neck. “He knows you did your best, he knows.”

A simple question, a simple answer; both led to a hard afternoon where Joel proved just how much he loved you as he helped you to finally open that door and step inside the second bedroom. Just a clean, nothing too strenuous, nothing too much for you to handle. Just picking up the clothes that had been piled up, dusting the furniture and making the bed over again once everything was washed and dried. Clothes put back into drawers and hung up, going through them left for another day. Joel had been beside you every step of the way, helping where he could, with his hands, his strength, his words.

Later that day, he lets you be the big spoon. Your arms secure around his chest as you tuck yourself around his back and simply breath with him until sleep claims you both.

“Thank you again, Rick, I really appreciate the help.” You smile at the teenager beside you, sitting in one of the wooden chairs Joel had been excited to craft to fill the space of your newly completed porch. His freckled cheek was stained with dirt, as were his arms from his offered task of cleaning out the gutters of your house. You and Joel had been trying to decide when it could be done as he shared lunch with you in the kitchen earlier that week when the boy had chimed in that he didn’t mind taking on the task.

Joel let you lead the interaction, even though you both shared the house and the land it was on with Ellie, it would always mean more to you.

“It was no problem, ma’am. Wanted to show my appreciation for the opportunity to work alongside you in the kitchen.”

“I’m happy to have you there, there’s no need to thank me.” You raise your glass of tea in a silent cheers, the temperature is begging to wane. Days warm but evenings getting chilly, the nights cold enough to turn on the heat.

“Everyone around town says that you used to patrol, still do sometimes.” He’s a little subdued now, like he’s worried about saying the wrong thing. “With you’re uh- with Mr. Miller.”

“I go out with Maria and Tommy sometimes too, but I try to focus on the kitchen these days.” Is your way of confirming the teenager’s assessment. You had really stepped back from patrol, opting to only go out with Joel on overnight or longer ones. Tommy and Maria sometimes if someone called off or fell ill. You realized that going out beyond the walls was something you just…didn’t want to do anymore. Even before Joel had become your partner, but he had needed someone to show him the ropes while Tommy took his own leave to focus on Maria and the pregnancy.

“Do, um, do you think I could maybe go on the next one with you, both of you?”

“Oh, well.” The overnights would be too much for him, or maybe they would be perfect since it’s a longer journey for him to get the feel of the job- how serious it was and all the planning and caution that goes into it. “That’s certainly something I can run by him and Tommy, see if we can work it out.”

“I would really appreciate it. I know I’m still kinda new myself, only been here just shy of eight months. But now that I’m a little acclimated, I want to help out more.” He’s genuine in his words, something that you both appreciate and worry about. So many of the teenagers here haven’t had to face the hardships of the outside world, being protected by the town, the community built within the walls. That had always been an issue between you and Millie, until the influence of her mother no longer affected her so deeply. It’s a challenge to get the younger generation to realize just how fucking insane the world is now.

But then again, they had no memories of the way things were before.

You’re quiet for a moment, thinking over the young boy’s words. You offer him a not as he finishes the glass of iced tea you brought out to him and takes off back toward the house he’s set up in with two other boys and the town butcher.

“Look mighty fine up there, if I do say so myself.” Joel’s voice hollers from the gate he had put up around the front yard. His hands are atop it, his eyes trained on you as you realize you must’ve been spacing out.

“My partner was kind enough to build it for me with his own two hands, pretty impressive, huh?”

“Oh yeah? Sounds like a real keeper to me.” He struts up the walkway and takes the steps easily, hands cradling your face as he dips to press his lips to yours in a breathtaking kiss. His tongue traces your bottom lip before tangling with yours as you return the kiss with just as much fervor.

“Gonna make us late, darlin’.” He murmurs against your mouth, not willing to disconnect completely.

“I was sittin’ out here already to go and you’re the one who decided to take his sweet time coming home.”

“Was busy helpin’ with the paddocks. Horse kicked one of the partitions clean off its hinges. Foal needs a lotta discipline before he’ll be ready to train for ridin’.”

Joel holds his hand out for you to use as an anchor to stand, letting you wrap your arm around it and tug it into your front as you both walk side by side down the walkway and toward the street. Ellie bounces out from the backyard and her own little studio to join you both as you make your way toward Tommy and Maria’s for a little bonfire dinner.

Hours later, once the sun begins to set and cast the evening sky in a swath of deep navy blues and gorgeous deep purples, you find yourself back inside the house. Maria had asked after Tupperware for the leftovers from the grill and you had jumped at the excuse to take a moment for yourself.

Joel’s name leaves your lips in squealed laughter. He had snuck up behind you to scoop you up into his arms as you tried to reach for something in a cabinet that was too tall for you.

“Gross, get a room.”

“Tommy!”

“Nope, y’all should know better. You are guests in my home and still can’t seem to keep your hands off each other.” Tommy grabs the sippy bottle of juice that you had refilled before disappearing as soon as he had appeared in the room.

“I wasn’t- Joel just- you’re a traitor!” You shout after him even as Joel continues to trace his fingers over the sensitive skin of your ribs. He keeps it up, hands closing around your ribs to pick you up and plant your butt right atop the counter. He’s between your legs, smirk in place as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Looks like it’s just you an’ me, sweetheart. Wanna tell me why you were lookin’ me up and down out there?”

“You know why.”

“Needly little thing you are sometimes, huh? Just can’t help but watch me, this is a family event, ya know. Nothing but innocent fun around the fire. ‘n you had to go and make it dirty with your squirmin’, tryin’ to get some relief right here between these pretty legs, hmm?” All you can do is gasp as his thick fingers swipe up the seam of your jeans, just enough pressure behind them to squish your already slick and puffy lips together.

“J-Joel…” Hands fly to catch his wrist, to catch the longer strands of his hair that are curling around his neck and pull.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” He’s crowding you, fitting himself perfectly between your thighs and pressing into you. The bulge in his own jeans is obvious as he swoops in to take your lips with his, devouring any argument you have about the setting.

Joel curses as silently as he can, the little crystal dish on your bedside table is empty. None of the rings you wear occasionally are nestled there. He opens the smooth drawer, peering inside only to find a journal, a cookbook with a bunch of bookmarks, and an old polaroid camera. Hands on his hips, he glances around the bedroom, looking for anything that could help him with the task that’s been weighing in his mind and heart the last six months.

It had come out of nowhere, the thought shocking him one day as he sat on the porch he had added to the front of your house to mimic the one on the house he and Ellie had been in before moving in. The project had been daunting, there was nothing but a small concrete stoop with few steps and two wooden support beams. But now there was a decent porch that runs across half of the front of the house from the front door to the living room window. You had been working earlier mornings, to help with the gardens and harvest after ensuring the town had a hearty spread for their breakfast.

It was fall now, marking the passage of a year since your relationship had begun to shift. An entire year of being with you had made him feel whole again, it healed parts of himself he had ignored for far too long. He had spent the summer months getting the work done around his other projects. Replacing fence lines around the gardens, house repairs, the shed and detached garage he had fixed up for Ellie’s living quarters and his workshop right beside it. He had insisted, saying he didn’t mind turning your house into a home for all three of you. The smile you had given him was blinding and he vowed to make you smile like that as often as he possibly could.

That same smile had broken out on your face the afternoon you had trudged home from your busy day.

And the thought of bending down on one knee in front of you to keep it there had him moving to meet you as you approached. He kissed the smile on your lips, hands cradling your face before he trailed them down to your waist and lifted you in a spin that cropped up a bout of giggles that melted his heart.

Now though, determination to make the moment perfect made him hyper aware of every moment he shared with you. That it was hard to just not reach for your hand and ask you as easy as it was to breath.

Even though he’s sure you would fawn over the question and give you an easy answer all the same. But he wanted to put work into it.

He finds you sprawled on the couch, mouth open and harsh little puffs of air sounding into the air as you slumber. Crouching down to get the throw blanket from a basket beside the couch, he drapes it over you and feels his chest fill with warmth as you instantly snuggle down further into the cushions. The glint on your fingers as you curl them around the edge of the blanket and bring it up under your chin catches his eye and he feels his heartbeat pick up.

Your jewelry. The rings he had been looking for are set daintily in place.

He’s careful, more careful than he’s ever been before as he gently reaches for your right hand. Eyes watching your face as he slips his own, thicker fingers around one of the rings and begins to slide it from its place. He gulps as he sees how they dwarf yours, thick and strong where yours are slim and long. Then his stomach flips and heat pools between his legs as he recalls the way you had begged him the night before, to fill you with them. The sounds you had let out, the memory of them alone makes him swell in his jeans.

Just as he’s got the ring in his grasp, your hand twitches and a deep hum has his eyes catching your own sleepy ones as they crack open.

Through your blurry squint, you see Joel’s handsome face, the broadness of his shoulders and the curls atop his head warming your heart. Yawning, you reach for the hand you were sure had just been tangling with yours. He had pulled it back and sleepy confusion colored your features.

“Mmm, what’re you-“ You kiss each of his knuckles, dragging his hand up with both of yours, his shoulders sagging at the soft feel of your lips on his skin. You drag them over each dip and ridge, “Doin’ up so early?”

“You fell asleep after your shift, sweetheart, it’s not so early anymore.” The slip of his tongue along his own lips has you boldly opening your mouth, his eyes dilating at the soft pink of your own tongue as you swirl it around two of his fingers. It must be something about the warmth of the sun hitting the living room windows, the depth of which you slept and then waking up with Joel crouched beside you. But you needed him, your body yearning for him in the basest of ways.

“Let’s waste the afternoon together.” You press the words to the pads of his fingers, not bothering to wait for a response before you suck them into your mouth to the knuckle. Joel’s eyes roll as a groan rumbles from his chest, his other hand coming up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing over your hallowing cheeks.

“Anythin’ you want, darlin’.” And then he’s pulling his slick fingers from your chasing mouth and trailing them down beneath the blanket to press between your legs, his mouth descending on yours.

You notice the way he nearly runs to his workshop after patrol on days he’s home early, his eyes focused and his hands clenching at his sides in the way they do when he’s anxious or thinking something over.

You leave him be, Joel would come to you about what was bothering him when he wanted to. There was no need to push the communication, you trusted him implicitly.

But he was busy most afternoons, well into the early evening lately and while it didn’t worry you…it worried you. He was distant, despite the other day when he had played hooky and put off his afternoon handy man tasks. Coming to bed late, after you had already crossed over into semi unconsciousness.

Often finding the leftovers of dinner still on the table or on the stove and cleaned up after he ate if he beat you home in the evenings. Ellie too, had noticed he was a little more reserved. She had been soothing, spending more time in the kitchen with you at home and dropping by the gardens with another girl’s arm interlocked with her own.

It had to be the time of year, September bleeding into October. His birthday had been a quiet affair, another cake like the first one you had given him. Yellow cake with chocolate frosting that ended up on the tip of his nose as Ellie dipped her finger into the excess and swiped it across his face. He had smiled so bright and his laughter had been loud, his shoulders easing the second he had walked through the door after patrol to find you both waiting for him with it. Just an evening with his two girls on the day he missed his other one with all his heart.

Forever intwined with his birthday was the trauma of the day the Outbreak took place, the part of himself he had lost in his daughter the day after. Something he would carry with him until his last breath, though he admitted that you made it easier to shoulder. Your kindness and love allowing him to heal from it in ways he had never thought he would be able to.

But today when you walked down the street and unlocked the front door there was no sign of anyone having been home for hours. And then you remembered that Joel had gone off on an overnight patrol with his brother and the thought doesn’t sit well. It was a hard day for you, this late in fall. Much like Joel’s own. But unlike him, you hadn’t shared the specific date.

It was still hard to talk about, even if you had made peace with the passing of your own child. Had admitted as much to Joel, to Tommy, Maria. But Ellie…you hadn’t shared it with Ellie. Even as you hear the happy laughter of hers as she treks down the street outside. Unable to quell the low mood and not willing to bring her own down, you grab your bag and make your way down the hallway to your room.

The next day you sleep as late as possible, rest not having come easy throughout the night. Thankfully, it was the week you normally take off for the harvest. Your absence in the mess hall kitchen accounted for and supplemented by Millie and Callie. She had taken her mother’s place in the space, the older woman choosing to keep to herself in the wake of all that happened the year before. The gardens her preferred job now, though her hands were beginning to bother her as arthritis set in.

With little sighs of exertion and some slight frustration at yourself for feeling things so deeply, you dress modestly in a plain tee and flannel. The sleeves are pushed up by noon, the entire flannel disrobed by three as you flit around the trees and gather the olives that are ready for picking. You’ve got two barrels by the time you hear Joel and Ellie walking down the street, the teenager laughing and joking. Joel’s voice is a more even tone, a deep rumble that calms you even as you think back to how distant he had been before he left for the overnight patrol.

Two weeks of kisses planted to your forehead as you slept, of blankets rustling and strong arms wrapping around your already passed out form, of notes being the main form of communication. It was bound to happen, a tough spell. Emotions so intricate and surely hard to deal with as the seasons changed. The date on the calendar looms in the back of your mind as well, the day that everything shifted. That you told Joel how you feel and he told you the same, that you decided to act on those feelings. Maybe that’s why you were so hyper aware of his actions and the long, busy hours he led.

Dinner wasn’t even prepped, no thoughts of food but for the pitted delicacies that were ready to harvest. The street quiets once again as they enter the home, sounds of life wafting from the slight openings of the glass. It was too chilly in the night to have them open but air flow during the day and a lower setting on the heat allowed for a good temperate environment.  

The smell of coffee swirls out of the side window of the kitchen, the breeze picking it up and bringing it to you just as Joel descends the few stairs at the back of the house with two steaming mugs.

“Told ya I’d help with that, sweetheart.” He looks tired, his jacket marred with dirt and his scruff glistening in the low sunlight. “Didn’t have to start it alone.”

He’s pressing the mug into your hands and dipping his head to press a kiss to your forehead, your stomach fluttering at the smile you could feel on his lips before he pulled back and you could see it for yourself. The basket you had been using to gather the harvest hangs from your arm, opposite the one that now bears a small, still silvery scar from the day on lake.

“Just needed to get outta my head,” You don’t quite meet his eyes, prompting him to hook two fingers underneath your chin and tilt your head up. His warm eyes search yours, the emotions swirling inside of you on display for him to see, to search, to calm.

“Lemme get some dinner started, sun should set soon. Come sit with me?”

“Joel, I’ve already started this tree, I don’t want to leave it half undone.”

“I’ll help you, then dinner, yeah?”

“You’ve had a long day,” You sigh, unable to quell the guilt and shame of feeling so utterly alone with him standing in front of you, with Ellie in the house. “You should shower and get some rest.”

“Don’t wanna rest until you’re taken care of.”

“I’m not ready to go inside.” There’s an edge to your voice, one built up from the past few weeks of things just feeling like too much. He clocks it, the simmering emotions just beneath your tingling skin and the slightly raised words you aim at him. You’re not looking at him, eyes focused just to the right of his own, a curl catching your attention and making it easier to focus. But you’re overwhelmed and don’t know how to handle it.

“Okay.” He’s stepping back, cautious but willing to give you the space you needed. To not push the matter or force you into following him into the house. His fingers caress your skin as he pulls it away and your eyes flutter shut as tears burn hot beneath your cheeks. “I’ll, uh, be inside.”

“Okay.”

 You don’t ever make it down the hallway, finishing up the harvest on the tree and then setting everything in the utility room before showering and then promptly burrowing into bed. No lamps turned on, no lights in the bathroom, no pages of the book you were currently working through read or tea had.

Just, straight to bed. Despite the sounds of Joel and Ellie having dinner with quiet conversation. The smell of roasted vegetables strong and the clink of glasses almost too much to bear. You want more than anything to force yourself out of bed to join them- but you can’t. The weight in your stomach, the soles of your feet, it’s too much.

“Olive?” Joel’s deep voice calls in a soft whisper from the cracked open doorway, but you don’t stir even as you lay with your back to it. You have no idea how much time has passed but you realize as your eyes focus and your ears stop buzzing that there’s no longer any sounds of conversation or life being lived down the hall. It’s quiet.

When his steps round the bed to his side, he startles a little when he notices that your eyes are open and glinting in the moonlight that filters in through the curtains haphazardly pulled over the glass panes.

“You’re awake.” It’s not an accusation, it’s a soft realization. He’s sitting to remove his boots, jeans shucked off and folded on the chair tucked into the corner by his bedside table. Flannel shrugged off and socks tugged up to his calves before he sinks onto the bed and slips between the covers.

“You don’t have to tell me what’s goin’ on, but you can’t tell me that everythin’ is fine.” He reaches for your fingers that are curled around the edge of your pillow, keeping it tucked underneath your cheek just the way you like it. “’m here, promise.”

And the petulant no, you’re not is quick to cut the air at full volume.

Harsh breath through his nose is the only response you get before he’s pulling you into him completely, intertwining your legs together and cradling your head with the back of his head as he tries to catch your eyes.

“I know I been busy, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not just that…y-you’ve been di-distant too.”

“I don’t mean to be.” He acquiesces quietly, knowing that the truth in your words is something he can’t really argue with.

“Always in the damn shop, makes me feel like that stuff is more important than me and then I get pissed off that I even feel that way. No matter how fleeting it is.”

“Your feelings are important, no matter how small or big. I…I’ve been working on something for you. But that’s not an excuse for how things have been.” He’s pressing his forehead to yours, a deep breath jostling you both as it stutters out of between his plush lips. “I wanted to have it done in time for the holiday but I keep fuckin’ it up.”

“Don’t want anything- j-just want you.” Your nose is cold when you nuzzle it into the crook of his neck, right where his collarbone peeks from beneath his shirt.

“You’ve got me, I swear it to you.”

“It’s been…it’s been really hard the past few days…”

“Past few weeks.” He breaths the words into your hair, his scruff rustling there as he buries his face into the crown of your head, arms tightening around you. “’m sorry for lettin’ things get to me.”

“Me too…”

“We’re gonna be okay, yeah?”

“Yes, Joel, of course. It’s just…it was just…a few days ago was…this time of year….that’s when I l-lost-“ A hiccup steals the admission from you, tears wetting the skin of his neck as you’re suddenly overcome with voicing exactly what had you so overwhelmed.

“Shh, it’s okay, you don’t have to- if you don’t- if you can’t. I get it, believe me, Olive.”

“I don’t want to keep it from you, it’s just- it’s a l-lot and it’s he-heavy.”

“I know…I know…but I’m here, I’ve got you.” He holds you until you’re breathing evens out and you fall into a restful slumber. His mind reeling with how much he’s been focused on what he could provide for you when you were right in front of him and struggling with something he had been too blind to see, even having been through it himself. One of his hands snakes down and traces the scar that’s exposed from your rucked up shirt- his shirt and thinks back on how shy you had been when he had first met you, how grateful and thankful he was that you two connected…

The next few days are spent tending to each other, tending to the harvest that needs to be collected, divvied up and handed to the general store on main street. To people who want the fruits of your trees for trade. He’s by your side through it all, helping any way he can even if you can’t find the words in a specific moment. No patrols for either of you, no kitchen shifts for you to run to for long hours. Just the two of you and the trees that gave you back your purpose once you had found a place here, safety.

The trees had given you purpose when you had lost your child and again when Aiden had passed. It’s a purpose that seems to realign everything in you each year and for that you’re grateful. The man beside you making you feel like things are finally settling for the better, even if he’s got his own past that haunts him in the quiet moments.

Joel feels it too, how good this time to yourselves has been. How much you both needed it.

It’s when the last line of trees needs to be focused on when bubbles of laughter and small jokes are shared, your voices lighter after so much devotion and time spent together healed the jagged edges of busy life that had caused discordance. He’s trailing soft fingertips through the belt loops on your jeans while you reach for the topmost branch atop a step ladder when he catches the subtle shake of your shoulders. He’s worried for a second that tears have taken over but he hears the huffs of your laughter and smiles so wide his cheeks hurt.

When you step down with something cupped in your hands, he can’t help but be mesmerized by the sparkle in your eyes as you hold them out to him. But he’s also cautious, because he’s learned your penchant for placing random things in his hands. With a shake of his head, he’s stepping back with his hands raised in surrender- refusing whatever you’re trying to give him.

“Nu-uh, you little troublemaker. I dunno what you’ve got but I don’t want it.”

“It’s not bad!” You giggle, unable to reign it in as the thing in your hand tickles against your palms.

“Then why you giggling like a maniac, huh? You may be cute, but I ain’t fallin’ for it this time.” He tries to maintain an even face but you can tell that he’s holding back laughter. Especially when you go to tease him with your next breath.

“Awe, is big bad Joel Miller afraid of a little catapillar?”

“When you’re tryna put it in my hands, yeah. They feel gross and look ugly as hell.” The lines around his eyes deepen as his moustache pulls down with his frown.

“Joel!”

He just raises a brow at you, the thick arch of his making you stare at him in open shock. He looks far too good, even as he’s trying to be serious right now. Eyes bright as he watches you. You can see that he wants to laugh, the corners of his mouth twitching the longer you hold out your hands. Parting them, you show him the bright green creature, lined with black dots and fuzzy legs. He visibly shivers as the thought of it crawling on him crops up in his mind and you can’t help a bark of laughter at the distaste he’s frowning with.

“Put that thing down. I got somethin’ better for you.”

Oh, you’re no fun. It’s just a silly, little guy. He ain’t gonna harm anyone.” You turn around to place him on a lower branch. Right beside two olives that you had yet to pick. The creature happily crawls onto the branch and proceeds to take microscopic bites of the fruit, forgetting all about being plucked from the higher branches. Wiping your hands on your dirty work jeans, all traces of laughter dissipate and your breath hitches when you turn around.

Joel is down on one knee and he’s holding his own cupped hands out to you now.

“Was tryna to figure out the best way to do this, but uh- figured I should just take the moment.”

“Joel…” Your bottom lip trembles as your heart races, he looks nervous. The strong, broad man kneeling in front of you looks nervous and it makes you nervous in turn. Feeding off of his energy in a way you always have.

“Now, I realize that while being so focused on gettin’ this right that I kinda fucked things up. Took a long time because first I had to swipe this to use as a reference,” He uses one hand to reach into the front pocket of his jeans and pulls out your simple silver band that had gone missing weeks ago. And then it hits you: he’s made you a ring. “I love you, think you deserve the whole goddamn world. Whatever I can provide for you, I will. For as long as I can and as long as you want me to.”

“Olive,” His beautiful brown eyes catch the midday sun as they connect with yours, emotions swirling them. He unfurls his fingers and sitting in his palm are two wooden rings. One is larger than the other ever so slightly and you can see the shine of epoxy on them as they glint. “Will you honor me in becomin’ my wife?”

You’re nodding your head enthusiastically, hair bobbing in it’s clip to keep it away from your face as you take the few steps toward him. Your fingers brush his as you gently caress the crafted wood in his palms, a watery smile taking over your face as you realize this man had made you wedding bands from the very trees he was helping you harvest for the second year in a row.

“That a yes, darlin’?”

“Of course it’s a yes, Joel.” Your words leave on a breathy exhale as he let’s you slip the larger ring onto his left hand. He’s got his eyes trained on your own as he does the same, threading your fingers together and using that connection to haul you into his arms as he stands. He kisses you deeply, dipping you backwards slightly as he holds tight to the middle of your back.

And it’s the best feeling, of finding someone as special as him in the remnants of a broken world. Of finding someone who loves you through the good times and bad, through the happy moments and hard moments, through everything and anything you both had to do to survive and make it to this point. Joel Miller is one of the good ones and now he’s yours forever. You're his forever.

taglist: @pedrospatch @morning-star-joy @sawymredfox @pascalpvnk

@littlemisspascal @merz-8 @orcasoul @sabmat @dreamingofleon @keylimebeag

@picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @joeloverture

@joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @corazondebeskar

@honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @hiroikegawa @dugiioh

@persephone-girl @furiousmushroom @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc

@part2joelmiller @formulafun @noisynightmarepoetry @sofiparallel

@blueberrylemon7 @maryrhodalouandted @joelsdagger @fluff-lover

@communism-bitches @slugz-writes-shit @mosssbawls @vie-is-punk

@ohhellotherebumblebee @koshkaj-blog @amyispxnk @wand-erer5

dividers by the lovely: @/cafekitsune and /saradika-graphics

[keeryhours]

real love, baby - chapter one

Billy Hargrove x female! reader

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Billy Hargrove Masterlist

Summary:

You get some life changing news, and telling Billy doesn’t go as planned.

Warnings:

Pregnancy, angst

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N:

Yay a new series! I’ve been dying to write for Billy again. I hope you guys like this, your comments and support mean the world to me.

When Billy had arrived at Hawkins High for the first time, roaring into the parking lot in his blue Camaro and wearing the tightest jeans known to man, he had caught the attention of every girl in school.

Including you.

You weren’t exactly…popular. Actually, you were considered a freak. Best friends with Eddie Munson and proud member of the Hellfire club, you caught a lot of shit from your classmates. You knew from the second you saw Billy Hargrove that you never had a chance.

You had never been more surprised to be wrong.

You knew Billy had a reputation for going through girls like crazy, sleeping with them and leaving them high and dry. Yet you still found yourself falling for him. And when he approached you and asked you out, you said yes embarrassingly fast.

“Asking you out” ended up being a late night trip to Lover’s Lake, making out before moving into the backseat and letting him fuck you. That might sound crude, but there was no better way to describe it. It certainly wasn’t making love.

Your late night visits with Billy became a regular thing. It was kept quiet - Billy didn’t tell anyone, and he acted like he didn’t know you at school. The only person who knew was Eddie, because he was your best friend in the world and you told him everything. He did not approve, but he wasn’t about to tell you how to live your life. He was just scared you’d get hurt.

Which, of course, you inevitably did. But we’ll get to that.

You held out hope that one day Billy might see you as more than a secret hookup, that he might take you out on an actual date and show you off at school, but you knew those were just dreams. Deep down, you knew Billy was embarrassed to be seen with you. He showed up at Hawkins High and became the most popular guy in school - he wasn’t about to let anyone know he was secretly sleeping with The Freak.

This routine worked out for a while. That is, until you had the realization you had skipped your period while you were throwing your guts up before school one morning. Ice cold fear struck into your heart, and you realized you had really fucked up.

That day you went to school looking nearly as bad as you felt. Carol Perkins giggled as you passed her in the hallway, whispering something to Heather Holloway. You had too much on your mind to care. Billy gave you a strange look when he saw you, but didn’t say anything.

You found Eddie, Gareth, Jeff and Grant at your usual spot in the cafeteria. You walked over and took a seat, not even bothering to get anything to eat because it would just come back up anyway.

Eddie did a double take when he saw you. “Jesus,” he said, taking in your messy hair, bloodshot eyes and melancholy expression. “What happened to you?”

The other guys were deep in conversation about the latest campaign. You leaned closer to Eddie. “I skipped my period. And now I’m getting sick.”

Eddie just blinked at you. He looked like he didnt understand - you saw the moment the realization dawned on him. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, looking down at the table. “Oh, shit.”

“Did you…take a test?” Eddie whispered, leaning in closer to you.

“No.” You picked at a loose string on the sleeve of your hoodie. “I figured I would go to the doctor so I don’t fuck it up.”

Eddie looked around the cafeteria before his eyes landed on you again. “Do you want me to take you?”

Your head snapped up to meet his gaze. “You would do that?”

Eddie smiled. “Well, yeah, of course. You’re my best friend. I’m not gonna make you go alone.”

You felt relieved to hear that. This was scary enough without having to go through it all alone. “I don’t know how I would have even made it there by myself without alerting my parents anyway.”

“Eddie Munson chauffeur, at your service,” he said with a bow. You snorted.

“Thanks, Eds.”

That evening after school you rushed home before your parents could get there and picked up the phone. You dialed the number for your primary care doctor’s office with shaking hands and made the appointment, not telling the receptionist over the phone what it was for. You figured you’d deal with that when you got there.

The next day passed in a blur. You looked presentable at least, but you had to leave class twice to go throw up in the bathroom. Billy gave you a concerned look when he saw you in the hallway again, but you ignored him.

After school you met Eddie at his van. He opened the passenger side door for you - “My lady,” he said with a dramatic bow - before jumping in the driver’s seat and starting up the old vehicle. You noticed Billy watching you from his Camaro where he waited for his younger sister.

Eddie blasted music over the radio while you drove. It made you feel better because you weren’t in the mood for conversation. The butterflies in your stomach made you feel like you could throw up again. You took deep breaths as he drove to keep the nausea under control. Eddie always drove like a maniac.

He pulled into the parking lot of the doctor’s office, some older ladies standing by their cars giving you a dirty look as the van tore into the parking lot blasting Metallica. Eddie didn’t notice.

He walked with you into the office, taking a seat in the waiting room while you went to reception to check in. You gave the receptionist your name, and she handed you a clipboard and pen and told you to take a seat.

The questions on the forms were standard. Your personal information, health history, medications, etc. By the time you finished with it, a nurse was opening the door and calling your name. Eddie squeezed your knee before you stood, letting you know he was here for support and would be right where you left him.

The nurse had you do the usual tasks - your weight and height, pee in a cup, and they took some blood samples. You waited in the exam room for the doctor, kicking your feet as you sat on the tall table. You felt more like a child than you had in the past few years.

When the doctor walked in carrying a clipboard and saying your name, you felt like you could throw up for the millionth time. He looked at you solemnly, and you knew it wasn’t going to be good news.

“Your pregnancy test came back positive,” he said. “Based on your bloodwork, I would estimate you at about 6 weeks.”

The room spun around you. You suddenly felt way too hot and claustrophobic in this tiny room. You wished you had asked Eddie to come back with you. You felt incredibly dizzy, like you could pass out. This was not happening. It was not happening.

“You’ll need to start taking prenatal vitamins,” he continued, oblivious to your internal panic. “I’ll give you some brochures with information and resources.”

You left the doctor’s office with a handful of pamphlets on pregnancy, birth, babies, and motherhood. Your face was white as a ghost, and Eddie clocked it the second you walked back into the waiting room.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, standing as you approached him and wrapping you in a tight hug. The tears fell as you buried your face in his chest. He stroked your hair, whispering comforting words in your ear. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna figure this out. You’re gonna be okay.”

Eddie helped you walk back out to the van on shaking legs. You couldn’t stop the tears now. Your life was over. Billy was never going to want to stick around for this.

Oh, god. Billy.

You didn’t even want to tell him. It was going to be a disaster. He was already embarrassed for anyone to know you were hooking up, but for the whole school to know he had gotten you pregnant? He would never allow that.

You were on your own.

Fuck.

You wanted to skip school, but your parents weren’t buying the “I’m sick” excuse. Of course it was the one morning you weren’t throwing up everything you’d eaten the night before. You got yourself together as much as you could, dressing yourself in a band tee and your favorite ripped jeans.

Eddie stayed by your side as much as he could at school. He met you in front of the school and walked you inside to your first class. You were grateful for his support.

It was halfway through first period when the nausea hit you again. Your hand shot up, asking “Can I go to the restroom?” and then sprinting out of the room before you even got a response. You barely made it to the bathroom in time, locking yourself in a stall and falling to your knees as you threw up.

When you were done, your eyes were watering. You grabbed some toilet paper and wiped your face, flushing the toilet and standing up shakily. You straightened your clothes and unlocked the stall door, walking out into the bathroom.

Only to see Carol Perkins, of all people.

She gave you a smug smile, tucking some of her curls behind her ear. “Hope you feel better, Freak.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed past her back into the hall, but you couldn’t help the pit in your stomach, the voice in your head telling you this is very, very bad.

You were surprised that nothing seemed to come of it as you moved on to your next classes. By the time you went to lunch, you were wondering if maybe she just kept it to herself for once.

That bubble was popped by Gareth Emerson.

The second you and Eddie placed your trays down at your usual spots, all the boys looked up at you. Gareth, Jeff, and Grant all looked at you with pity, which made your stomach twist into knots.

“…What?” You asked hesitantly, your blood running cold.

Gareth looked at Eddie, then back to you. “Uh…Carol Perkins is telling everyone you’re pregnant.”

If you weren’t already nauseous, you certainly were now. It was suddenly hard to breathe, your hands gripped onto your tray tightly as you tried to focus and calm yourself, but it wasn’t working. Your breaths were coming in shorter, like you couldn’t get enough air into your lungs.

The feeling of Eddie’s hand grabbing your arm brought you out of it. His rings were cold against your skin, grounding you to reality. Your reality wasn’t that great, though.

“Jesus, are you okay?” Jeff asked.

“It’s not…true, is it?” Gareth asked, his eyebrows raised.

You burst into tears. You couldn’t help it. You covered your face with your hands, crying your eyes out. This seriously could not be happening like this. You knew it would come out eventually - I mean, you could only hide it for so long - but you weren’t ready for it now. You’d only had one night to wrap your head around it yourself.

“Oh god,” Gareth said. “It is true.”

Eddie pulled you into his chest, rubbing your back and giving Gareth a dirty look over the top of your head. “Sweetheart, it’s okay. Calm down.”

“It’s not okay,” you sobbed into his shirt. “Everyone knows. That means Billy’s heard. The whole school has heard. My life here was shitty enough, this is a whole other level.”

“Wait, Billy?” Gareth said, exchanging a look with Jeff and Grant. “Billy Hargrove?”

Eddie gave him another look. He stroked your hair, the soothing gesture helping to calm your racing heart. “It’s going to be okay. I promise. You’re going to be okay.”

Billy flicked the ash off his cigarette before bringing it back up to his lips. He leaned against his car, talking with Tommy Hagan. He was just about to leave when Carol came walking over, smiling like she knew something they didn’t.

“Hey baby,” Tommy greeted her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and placing a kiss on her cheek.

“Have you guys heard?” Carol asked, like she couldn’t wait to say whatever she knew. Billy wasn’t particularly interested, dragging on his cigarette one more time.

Tommy took the bait, however. “About what?”

When it was your name that came out of Carol’s mouth, it grabbed Billy’s attention fully. He glanced up at Carol nonchalantly, but he was listening intently.

“What about that Freak?” Tommy asked with a laugh.

Carol giggled. “She’s pregnant. I caught her throwing up in the bathroom during first period.”

Billy felt sick to his stomach. He tossed his cigarette to the ground, stubbing it out with his boot. “No way that’s true.”

“Why?” Carol asked, furrowing her eyebrows at Billy.

Because you would have told him, right? And he always used a condom. There was no way. “That Freak? No way she’s getting any action.”

Carol and Tommy laughed like Billy had said the funniest thing they’d ever heard. “I don’t know though,” Carol said, “Tina said she’s been running out of class to go to the bathroom all week. She’s definitely knocked up. It’s probably Munson’s. Two freaks in love.” Carol giggled, and Tommy started laughing again.

Billy forced himself to laugh, but nothing was funny. He wanted to throw up himself. “Hey, I left something in my locker. I’ll see you guys later.” He pushed off his car and walked back into the school.

He had to find you. He had to find out what the hell was going on.

You closed your locker as you got the last book you needed for your homework. You had waited until most of your classmates had left, the hallway deserted. The looks from your classmates all day had been enough. You shoved your stuff into your backpack, preparing to leave to meet Eddie at his van.

As you were walking down the hall, the doors opened and you saw Billy walking towards you. You felt like turning and running the other way. As he reached you, he nodded towards an empty classroom.

You thought about ignoring him, about leaving and letting Eddie take you home and maybe transferring schools and never seeing any of these people again. Instead, you followed him into the classroom.

Inside the empty room, Billy was pacing, running his hand through his dirty blonde curls. Your stomach hurt as you closed and locked the door behind you. When you reached him Billy spun on you, his eyes wild.

“Are you pregnant?”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. This was not how you wanted him to find out. You thought you’d have more time, time to think about what to say and how exactly to break the news. Fucking Carol Perkins.

“Yes,” you said, opening your eyes to look at Billy.

He looked horrified. “You’re- it- it’s…mine?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, nodding slowly. “Yeah. It’s yours.”

Billy let out a rush of air. He started combing his fingers through his mullet again, pacing back and forth in front of you. “I- we- there’s just no fucking way. I used a condom every time.”

“Condoms can fail, Billy-“

“Bullshit,” he said. “I mean, yeah, but it’s so rare. There’s…there’s no fucking way you’re- pregnant with my kid.”

“You’re the only person I’ve slept with,” you reminded him, your voice small. You knew you weren’t the only girl he slept with. “And I went to the doctor. They did blood work. I’m definitely…pregnant.” The word was still hard to say.

Billy shook his head. “You- this is fucking insane. I’m not raising some kid.”

Your stomach dropped. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” he breathed out another rush of air. “I’m not doing this. Whatever you want from me, I’m not doing it. I’m not ruining my life to raise a kid.”

The tears welled up in your eyes. “So you’re saying you’re abandoning us.”

Billy scoffed. “‘Abandoning.’ I have more to live for than this. I was gonna…I was gonna get out of here.” He laughed humorlessly. “I was gonna get the fuck out of this shithole town. I was gonna go back to California. I…” He shook his head. “I’m not doing this. I’ll give you money for an abortion, I’ll take you to get it, whatever. But I’m not doing this.”

And with that he left, slamming the classroom door behind him and leaving you alone.

The tears really fell then. It was worse than you imagined. You were really all alone in this. Just you…and your baby.

On your own.

tag list

@rincallistis

[vamptizm]

vi. MISSION JEALOUSY — p.bueckers

pairing: paige bueckers x clover amar (oc)

synopsis: in which paige bueckers and clover amar, two uconn wbb stars, have an ongoing mission of making each other jealous and outdoing the other.

warnings: angst. explicit language. that’s it i think.

word count: 3.6k

note: this took me soso long i apologize, i’m just not satisfied with this whatsoever. this series will not be revolving around just smut, so obv it’s not going to be in every or every other chapter. idk how long i’ll make it, but most of my chapters are rather short so probably double in the digit chapter count. yeah anyway thank u for being patient and reading this (i loveee comments of any kind so pls don’t hesitate to leave those)

series masterlist

Clover sat across from Vanessa in a quaint little sushi restaurant downtown, her fingers idly tracing the edge of her water glass as she tried—really tried—to focus on the conversation. The dim lighting cast a warm glow across the table, the soft murmur of voices and clinking plates filling the space between them. Vanessa was mid-sentence, her voice light and animated as she recounted a story from work, but Clover wasn't listening.

She couldn't.

Everything about the evening felt... off. The restaurant, the atmosphere, even the date itself.

Vanessa had been the one to suggest this place, raving about it for days until Clover finally agreed to go. It was supposed to be a fun night out, a break from the monotony of campus life and basketball practices. But instead, the girl found herself counting the minutes, waiting for the check to arrive so she could call it a night.

The truth was, she hadn't been feeling it from the start. Not the date. Not Vanessa. 

Vanessa was kind. Sweet. Energetic in a way that most people found contagious. Her laughter was bright, her gestures animated, and her eyes sparkled with sincerity whenever she looked at Clover. She was someone who wore her heart on her sleeve, someone who loved openly and fiercely, someone who deserved the same in return. 

But Clover wasn't that person. 

She wasn't someone who gave her heart away easily. Hell, she wasn't even sure if she had it in her to give it away at all. 

Relationships had never been her thing. The idea of commitment, of letting someone get close enough to see her cracks and flaws, felt like a weight she couldn't bear. Vulnerability wasn't something she handed out freely—it was something she locked away, hidden behind witty remarks and carefree smiles. And still, Vanessa wanted more. 

Something serious. Something Clover couldn't give. 

"...and maybe next weekend we could check out that new art exhibit?" Vanessa's voice pulled her back to the present. She was smiling, hopeful. Her hands rested on the table, fingers curled lightly around her glass. There was a certain softness to her expression, an eagerness that made Clover's chest tighten with dread. 

It was getting too much. 

"Hey, listen," Clover interrupted, her voice quieter than usual, the words slipping out before she could stop them. "We've already talked about this." 

Vanessa's smile faltered, just a little. Her brow furrowed as she tilted her head, confusion flickering across her face. 

"I told you," Clover continued gently, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve, "I'm not ready for anything serious." 

For a moment, Vanessa froze. Her lips parted as if to say something, but the words didn't come. Instead, she sat back in her chair, shoulders stiffening slightly as she processed Clover's words. 

"I know," Vanessa finally said, her voice quieter now, too. "But... I thought maybe if we took it slow, you'd change your mind." 

Guilt twisted in Clover's stomach, sharp and unforgiving. She hated this part — the part where things inevitably fell apart, where someone always got hurt. 

"I don't think that's gonna happen," she said softly, regret lacing her words. "You're... you're too good for me, Vanessa. It's not fair to let you act like my girlfriend when we both know it's not gonna happen." 

The words hung heavy in the air. 

Vanessa's face hardened, a flicker of hurt crossing her features before she quickly masked it. But Clover saw it — she always did. And it only made the guilt worse. 

"You show up to my games with signs," Clover added, her voice quieter now, her gaze dropping to the table. "You wait for me after practice. You plan dates, and you're always so thoughtful... I don't deserve any of that. And you know it." 

"Why wouldn't you deserve it?" 

The question came quickly, sharper than Clover expected. It caught her off guard, and she stilled for a moment, her thoughts scattering. 

Why didn't she deserve it? 

It was a loaded question, one one required an even more loaded and heavier answer.

Because she didn't appreciate it the way she should. Because it never felt like enough to change how she was. Because the butterflies Vanessa so desperately tried to give her never came—not from sweet gestures, not from thoughtful words or sex, not from anything Vanessa did. 

"Because I don't appreciate it," Clover finally said, her voice low, barely audible above the hum of the restaurant. "The way you'd like me to." 

Vanessa blinked, confusion clouding her gaze. 

"It doesn't... it doesn't do anything for me," Clover admitted after taking a deep breath, the confession weighing heavily on her chest. "It's not wooing me. It's not making me feel any butterflies. None of it. And I don't want you to keep hurting yourself trying to make it happen." 

Silence settled over the table like a heavy blanket. 

Vanessa's gaze drifted to the window, her jaw tight, lips pressed into a thin line. Her hand curled around her napkin, knuckles white. Finally, she nodded—a small, stiff motion that spoke of resignation more than understanding. 

The guilt was unbearable. 

Clover signaled for the check, pulling out her card before Vanessa could argue. She paid quickly, avoiding the waitress's curious gaze, and stood without a word. 

The silence in the car pressed down on Clover like a weight. The rain tapping against the windshield filled the space where words should've been. Vanessa sat in the passenger seat, gazing out the window, her expression distant and unreadable. 

Clover clenched the steering wheel tighter, her knuckles white. The guilt gnawed at her, twisting in her chest, but not in the way most people would expect. She didn't owe Vanessa anything — not her loyalty, not her heart. She had made that clear from the start. 

Still, something about the way Vanessa sat quietly, radiating disappointment, made the brunette’s stomach churn. 

Vanessa finally broke the silence. Her voice was quiet, but steady. "You're not a bad person." 

Clover exhaled, the lump in her throat tightening. 

"You're kind," Vanessa continued, her gaze still focused on the rain-slicked streets outside. "You're thoughtful. You care more than you want people to think. And I don't know why you keep trying to convince yourself that you're incapable of something real." 

Clover's chest tightened. 

She hated this. Hated that Vanessa saw her as someone capable of giving more than she actually could. Hated that Vanessa saw something in her that wasn't there. Or maybe, she just hated that she couldn't see it too.

The memory of Paige lingered — the weight of her touch still fresh on Clover's skin, the way her hands trembled slightly when they pulled Clover closer, the way their eyes met in that charged, unspoken moment. 

And then the look on Paige's face when Clover left. 

It had mirrored the one Clover wore the first time they'd crossed that boundary. She had been the one left standing there, confused and craving more while Paige walked away without a word. 

Tonight, it had been her who walked out, and she hated that it still hurt. That it felt so wrong.

Vanessa sighed, her tone softer now, like she was trying to convince herself as much as she was trying to reassure Clover. "I just... I thought maybe you'd change your mind. That maybe I could be the one to—" 

Clover cut her off before she could finish. 

"You're not the one." 

The words came out harsh, sharper than Clover intended, but she couldn't take them back. The truth was too raw to sugarcoat. 

Vanessa flinched, her lips pressing into a tight line. She nodded slowly, as if piecing everything together, realizing how deeply she had misread the situation. 

"I see." 

Silence returned, heavier than before. 

Clover wanted to tell her that none of this was Vanessa's fault — that she hadn't led her on, that Vanessa deserved someone who wanted to give her what she was looking for. But it would've sounded hollow. Pointless. 

Instead, she tightened her grip on the steering wheel, her mind unwillingly drifting back to Paige. 

To the way Paige had looked at her, eyes burning with something Clover could never quite name. To the feeling of Paige's lips against hers, desperate and insistent. To the ache in her chest when she walked out of the room, the echo of her own footsteps on the hardwood floor sounding louder than they should've. 

And to the nagging thought in the back of her mind—almost like a whisper from the devil himself—that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't running away from love entirely. She was just running from the wrong person. 

"I had sex with someone else before this," Clover said suddenly, her voice steady but quiet, cutting through the silence like a blade. 

Vanessa blinked, startled by the blunt confession. 

"What?" 

"I had sex with someone else," Clover repeated, this time slower, more deliberate. "Right before this date." 

Vanessa's expression shifted — not to anger, not to betrayal, but to resignation. 

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised," Vanessa said after a long pause. There was no malice in her tone, just disappointment. "I thought I could be different. That I could make you want... more." 

Clover stared straight ahead, her chest hollow. 

"I told you from the start I wasn't ready for anything serious," she said, her voice steady but distant. "I wasn't lying." 

"I know." Vanessa's voice softened again. "But I hoped." 

And there it was — the difference between them. 

Vanessa was someone who hoped, who believed in love and connection. She thought that if she showed enough kindness, enough patience, she could win Clover over. That she could make her feel the way Vanessa felt about her. 

But Clover had stopped hoping a long time ago. The only person who ever made her feel anything real was Paige. 

And that terrified her more than it should.

Vanessa cleared her throat, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "Did it mean anything?" 

The question hung in the air, heavy and loaded. 

Did sleeping with Paige mean anything? 

Everything. 

"Not in the way you think," Clover lied, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Vanessa nodded again, her gaze dropping to her lap. "Right." 

The rest of the drive was silent, tension crackling between them like a live wire. 

When Clover finally pulled up in front of Vanessa's apartment, neither of them moved right away. Vanessa fiddled with the hem of her sleeve, and Clover kept her hands on the wheel, staring at the rain streaking the windshield. 

"I hope you find what you're looking for," Vanessa said softly, breaking the silence. 

Clover didn't answer. 

Vanessa gave her one last glance before stepping out of the car and disappearing into the building without looking back. 

As the door clicked shut, Clover let out a shaky breath. The weight of the evening bore down on her, but it wasn't Vanessa's disappointment that crushed her. 

It was the way Paige's name lingered on her mind like a brand, burning and inescapable. No matter how far she ran, no matter how many distractions she sought, Paige was always there. 

The way the blonde's gaze lingered a little too long during practice. The way her usually teasing and taunting voice softened when she checked in on Clover after a particularly rough game. The way her presence filled every empty corner of Clover's mind, no matter how hard she tried to push it away.

Because Paige had never just been a fleeting crush or a temporary obsession. 

It wasn't just admiration. It wasn't just complicated friendship. She had always been something more. 

It had been something more for a long time.

The apartment was quiet when Clover walked in, save for the soft clatter of a knife against what she assumed was a cutting board. She barely glanced at the kitchen, her mind clouded with exhaustion, her heart heavy with that same guilt. All she wanted was to crawl into bed and shut out the world.

But of course Paige was still up.

Clover cursed under her breath as she slipped off her shoes, hoping to make it to her room without incident. She knew how Paige operated. Knew the games she liked to play. And Clover wasn't in the mood for another round of it tonight.

"Late night?" Paige's voice cut through the silence, sharp and calculated.

Clover stopped in her tracks, her heart sinking. She set her bag down by the door, straightened, and took a slow breath before turning around. Paige was at the counter, slicing through an apple with a steady hand.

"Something like that," Clover said, keeping her tone flat.

Paige didn't look up. "Thought you'd be back later. Guess the date wasn't that great, huh?"

There it was. The edge in Paige's voice. That barely veiled disdain, like she was trying to poke holes into Clover's night without outright saying what she really felt.

Clover ran a hand through her straightened hair, none of her natural curls in sight. "It was fine."

"Fine." Paige repeated the word with a smirk, like it was a joke only she understood. She tossed a slice of apple into her mouth, chewed slowly. "Guess that's not exactly life-changing."

Clover's patience was already wearing thin. "Why do you care?"

Paige shrugged, finally meeting Clover's gaze. Her blue eyes were cool, assessing. "I don't."

The silence that followed was heavy, pressing down on Clover's chest. She could feel the unspoken tension between them, like a storm waiting to break. She shifted her weight, debating whether to walk away — but Paige wasn't done.

"You're wasting your time, you know," Paige said quietly, her voice softening. It wasn't a taunt this time. It sounded almost like a warning.

The brunette frowned. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Paige set the knife down, her hands resting on the counter. "These girls you fuck around with. They're not going to give you what you want."

Clover's chest tightened, brow raised in an almost challenging manner "And what exactly do you think I want?"

Paige tilted her head, her gaze never wavering. "Someone who makes you feel the way I do."

The air between them went still, heavy with meaning. Clover froze, her breath catching in her throat. Her pulse quickened, a mix of irritation and something else—something she didn't have the guts to name—coursing through her veins.

"That's overly cocky, even for you," She responded, her voice steady but strained.

Paige's lips curved into a smirk, but there was no humor in it. "Maybe. But I'm not wrong, am I?"

Clover's hands curled into fists at her sides. She hated how easily Paige got under her skin. How she always knew exactly what to say to make Clover doubt herself.

"God, you just say the dumbest shit sometimes." Clover muttered, turning toward her room.

"You're scared 'cause I'm right, Amar," Paige called after her.

Clover stopped dead in her tracks. Her heart pounded in her ears, a feeling of unexplainable dread and frustration clawing at her chest.

Paige's voice softened, almost teasing. "Went straight from my bed to her arms. You always like to rebound, don’t you?"

Clover spun around, her eyes flashing with irritation. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" the blonde questioned, feigning innocence.

"Make it sound like it meant something to you," Clover near to snapped. "Because it didn't. You made that clear the first time."

Paige's smirk faltered for the first time. Her gaze dropped for a moment before meeting Clover's again. "And yet, it keeps happening."

The words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable in a way Paige probably hadn't intended or planned.

Clover swallowed hard, the lump in her throat growing. "Yeah, 'cause we're both too fucked up to stop."

Paige's expression shifted—something between hurt and frustration flickering across her own face now. "Is that what you think?"

"What else is there to think?" Clover shrugged lazily. "We don’t do that healthy shit. That's how it's always been."

Paige pushed away from the counter, closing the distance between them with slow, deliberate steps. Her gaze never wavered, her expression unreadable.

"You keep saying that like it's a rule we mutually agreed on," Paige spoke quietly. "Like it's some fucked up contract we both signed."

Clover's back hit the wall. Paige was standing too close now, the scent of Clover's sweet vanilla perfume lingering in the air between them.

"Isn't it?" Clover whispered, her voice unsteady.

Paige's hand brushed a strand of hair away from the brunette’s face, a light, almost instinctive touch. But it sent a cold shiver down Clover's spine.

"Don't remember signing anything," Paige murmured.

Clover's heart was pounding, her mind racing. She hated this—hated how Paige made her feel out of control. Vulnerable. Exposed.

"You don't know what you want," Clover said, her voice deliberately bland and cold, despite the emotional chaos brewing inside of her.

Paige's hand lingered, her finger tucking the piece of hair behind Clover's ear. "Neither do you."

For a moment, Clover couldn't breathe. The tension between them was suffocating, the weight of everything unspoken pressing down on her.

"You think this is a game," Clover said, her voice barely audible now. "But it's not."

Paige's hand dropped away, and for a second, Clover saw something crack in her expression—a glimpse of vulnerability before the mask slipped back into place.

"It's not a game to me," Paige said softly.

Clover blinked, stunned into silence, though she didn't let it show.

But before she could say anything, Paige stepped back, the distance between them suddenly unbearable.

"Get some sleep," Paige said, her voice quieter now, almost gentle. "Gotta be up early for practice tomorrow."

Clover didn't respond. She watched as Paige turned away, heading back to the kitchen to finish her snack, leaving Clover standing there, harshly biting down on her tongue and heart aching with everything they couldn't say.

The sound of Clover's door closing echoed through the apartment, cutting through the thick silence like a blade. Paige stood frozen in the kitchen, staring blankly at the half-sliced apple on the cutting board. Her appetite was gone.

Her hands trembled slightly as she set the knife down, pressing her palms against the counter to steady herself.

'What the hell is wrong with me?'

Paige exhaled sharply, pushing herself upright. She rubbed the back of her neck, her fingers brushing over the faint mark Clover had left there earlier — a kiss, a bite, she wasn't sure which. It didn't matter. It wasn't supposed to matter.

This wasn't supposed to feel like this.

It was supposed to be easy. Fun. No strings, no feelings, no mess. That's how it worked. Clover hooked up with whoever caught her eye, Paige did the same. They'd judge each other, throw around meaningless jabs and at the end of the day they'd be fine. Back to being a team.

So why did it feel like her chest was caving in every time Clover walked away and into the arms of someone else?

Paige clenched her jaw, trying to swallow the frustration rising in her throat. She hated this. Hated feeling out of control. Hated how Clover had walked out on her earlier without a second glance — just like Paige had done with others so many times.

'Is this what it feels like?' she wondered bitterly. ‘To be the one left behind?’

She'd told herself it didn't matter. That Clover going on a date with someone else was none of her business. That it wasn't jealousy, just curiosity. But the sting in her chest said otherwise.

Because deep down, Paige knew the truth.

No one made her feel the way Clover did.

And that terrified her more than it should.

She grabbed the cutting board and shoved it into the sink with more force than necessary, the sound of it clattering against the metal louder than she intended. She winced, glancing toward Nika and Jana's rooms. No lights turned on. No doors opened.

The last thing she needed was a groggy Nika asking her why she was slamming things around at midnight.

Paige turned off the kitchen light and leaned against the counter in the dark, the faint glow from the streetlights outside casting shadows across the room. She could still hear Clover's words in her head, clear as day:

‘Because we're both too fucked up to stop.’

Paige ran a hand over her face, letting out a quiet, bitter laugh. "Yeah, no kidding."

She'd spent so long pretending she didn't care. Playing it cool, keeping her distance, convincing herself that what they had was just physical. But it wasn't. Not anymore.

And Paige wasn't ready to admit it.

She thought back to the way Clover had looked tonight — tired, defeated, like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Paige had wanted to say something real, to cut through the bullshit and tell her whatever truth there was.

But that truth was messy. Vulnerable. And Paige wasn't good at that.

Instead, she'd resorted to what she knew best: cocky remarks and passive-aggressive digs. It was easier to act like none of it mattered. To pretend that Clover's wandering eyes and restless heart didn't bother her.

But as hypocritical as it was, it did.

And that scared her more than anything.

Paige glanced toward Clover's room, her heart aching in a way she didn't quite understand. She thought about knocking on her door, saying something — anything — to break the silence between them.

But what would she even say?

‘I care about you. More than I want to. More than I should. And it's killing me.’

No. That wasn't her.

Paige pushed off the counter and headed to her own room, her footsteps quiet against the hardwood floor. She paused outside Clover's door for a moment, her hand hovering in the air like she might knock after all.

But she didn't.

Instead, she whispered into the silence: "Good night, Clover."

And with that, she walked away, closing her own door behind her.

taglist (open) @brenwritesss @bueckersbitch @starlighttsv @ekisokay @st4rrzynight @ohmybueckers @pbbucks

[supernovafics]

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 4.9k words

warnings: explicit language, a bit of angst (bc of some family drama), lots of fluff, smut (18+), unprotected piv sex, tiny hint of praise kink

summary: in which a family wedding makes you think about the future

author's note: i love when i randomly get hit with inspiration for this universe<33

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Summer 1986

You had been trying to stay on your parents’ good side. They hadn’t been pestering you a lot about your future— specifically college and transferring to the University of Chicago, where they had wanted you to go since you were a kid— and you wanted to keep it that way. And if that meant going to a family wedding in Illinois, then so be it. 

The only bearable part about it was that Steve was coming too, and it had taken absolutely no bribing to get him to say yes. 

“Is this my girlfriend privilege coming into play?” You asked him as you two sat on the couch in your apartment’s living room. “Because I swear if we were still just friends you would at least force me to do all of the driving or something.”

Steve gave you an amused smile. “Do you want me to make you do all of the driving?”

“Nope, not at all,” You shook your head. “So, actually, I’m gonna stop talking now.” 

Steve laughed a little and you focused your attention back on the random sitcom playing on the TV, a small smile on your face. 

“Do you think Dustin will wanna babysit Harold again?” Steve asked as he mindlessly reached out to grab your hand that was buried under the blanket draped over your laps and intertwined it with his. 

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” You answered with a nod, taking a look over at the brown and white hamster’s cage that was sitting on the low shelf you two had next to the TV. “Honestly, I think he’s starting to like Harold more than us.” 

“I’m pretty sure that happened right when we got him.”

“Shit, you’re right,” You said as you shifted a bit and wrapped Steve’s arm around you so that you were nuzzled more comfortably in his side and then intertwined your hands once again. “I actually feel kinda offended about that. Just so you know, I love you and Harold equally.”

“Equally?” Steve said, sounding playfully shocked. “I’ve known you for basically ten years.”

“Yeah, but Harold’s our son, so…” You shrugged, trying to contain your growing smile. 

“Okay, I guess I’ll share the number one spot, then,” He responded as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head.  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The four-hour drive to the town just out of Chicago where the majority of your family lived wasn’t terrible. You and Steve evenly split the driving time and spent most of it playing silly games; mainly the license plate game because it was a car ride staple, and also a game where you two had to try and think of the same word and say it at the same time, and you two were eerily good at it. 

By the time you made it to the hotel that all of the out-of-town family members were staying at because of how close it was to the wedding venue, it was the middle of the night. Even though Steve didn’t have to work today— he took off the entire weekend, actually— you two still decided to leave later in the day because you wanted to avoid as much unnecessary time with your parents as possible.

Unsurprisingly, you and Steve were the only people checking in at ten o’clock at night. 

“So, it looks like there are two rooms in the reservation,” The lady at the front desk told you; her name tag said Joan. “One under your name, and one under Steve Harrington.”

“Oh,” You said and then nodded after a second. “Um, okay.”

Joan seemed to take note of your slightly confused tone. “Did you not book two rooms?”

“My parents handled all of this, so I guess they did the two rooms.”

She nodded at your words. “I’m gonna go grab the room keys and I’ll be right back.”

She headed off to what you assumed was the back room and you turned to look at Steve who was standing right next to you. 

He let out a quiet laugh as his arm slipped around your waist. “Did your parents forget that we live together and that we've been dating for the last five months?”

“They probably think we still sleep in our own bedrooms,” You said, leaning into his touch and realizing just how tired you were. 

You truly couldn’t remember the last time you slept alone in the past few months since you and Steve got together, and even before that, you both had spent a lot of time in each other’s beds. It probably would’ve made sense for you two to downsize to a one-bedroom place, but you both loved the apartment so much that you couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. 

“Should I pretend that I’m actually staying in the other room?” Steve asked and you quickly nodded. 

“Yeah, just in case.”

“Bad idea that we decided to share a suitcase then, huh?”

When you came up with it, it seemed like the perfect idea for the quick weekend trip. Why bring two separate suitcases that would probably be half empty, instead of just sharing one? 

You sighed now as you took a look at the black suitcase that Steve was holding the handle of. “Very bad idea.”

Joan returned a moment later. “So, good news, the rooms are right next to each other, and they’re actually connecting, so you two won’t have to be too far from each other.”

“That’s great,” You said, grabbing one of the keys from her outstretched hand, and Steve grabbed the other. “Thank you so much.”

She smiled at you both. “I hope you two enjoy your stay.”

You and Steve said another quick “Thanks” before heading toward the elevators. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Your room is so much nicer than mine,” You said as you slumped back onto Steve’s bed, head quickly finding the pillow that was actually so soft. 

“Do you wanna switch?” He asked from where he stood by the suitcase, pulling on a fresh t-shirt for the night.

The door that connected your rooms was wide open and it would probably stay that way for the entire night. 

“No, it’s fine, I’ll deal with my shitty shower pressure and lumpy bed.”

“You can stay in here with me tonight, y’know,” He told you, moving closer and maneuvering so that he was settled on top of you. It was a comfortable position, even though it probably shouldn’t have been. The way your bodies molded so easily for each other always felt like two pieces of a puzzle coming together. 

You smiled under his gaze. “Thank you for the formal invitation.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Of course, no problem. I wanna be a gentleman.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little at his words that were said very seriously, but you knew they were anything but. 

You could’ve easily fallen asleep just like that if you wanted to, with his warm body pressed so comfortably against yours, pretty much equivalent to a weighted blanket. And it would’ve made sense to fall asleep after the long drive you two had to endure, but you really didn’t want to.  

His head dipped down and yours tilted upward, allowing you two to meet halfway in the softest kiss. 

There was something about kissing Steve that always felt so nostalgic, and also the complete opposite. Even five months into everything, there was still a newness to being with Steve in this way that you’d probably never get fully used to. Every time felt like the first one, but there was also so much comfort that had been there from the beginning and it only continued to grow.  

After a moment that you considered way too short, he pulled away from your lips and his mouth started immediately trailing along the underside of your jaw and then down to your neck.  

You let out the softest hum as you shifted underneath him, searching for any sort of extra friction. Steve’s low groan was the first thing you heard when you brushed against his hardness and you wished that you could pull off the few layers that separated the two of you in one quick movement. 

“You still tired?” He mumbled against your neck.  

“Yes, but I also really want you right now,” You whispered back as you threaded your fingers through his hair, which was slightly damp from the shower he just took. The only pro about not sharing a room was that you both got your own bathroom, even if the water pressure in yours sucked.  

“Yeah?” He asked as he pulled back a bit to look at you. His voice was teasing, playful, but you also knew how much he loved the reassurance too. 

“Yeah,” You nodded immediately. “Please.”

There was the sweetest smile on his face as his fingers found the bottom of your t-shirt and proceeded to pull the fabric up and off of you. 

You had opted against putting on a bra after your shower, so your chest was left bare for him once your t-shirt was off and he was groaning at the sight. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” He whispered as the pad of his thumb brushed against your already hard nipple.

For the briefest moment, your eyes slipped shut and you bit your lip to hold back your moan, and then you were meeting his gaze again. 

“You’re really pretty too, Stevie,” You said, smiling up at him as you reached up to softly poke his cheek. 

He laughed a little and turned his head a little so that he was kissing your poking finger. “Thank you. You’re so nice.” 

Your shoulders upturned in the most nonchalant shrug, but the same smile was on your face; you were always the one to bring a bit of silliness into moments like these. “I try.”

Steve was smiling back at you as he gave your nipple a quick squeeze and then his hands moved down your sides and settled at the waistband of your pajama bottoms. He pulled your shorts and underwear off in one motion and tossed them to the floor somewhere along with your shirt. 

He kissed from your collarbone down to your belly button, stopping and teasing different spots along the way which made you squirm beneath him and you could feel yourself dripping onto the blanket below you with every teasing press of his mouth. He moved lower and lower, and then deliberately skipped past where you needed him to be. Instead, he started kissing your inner thighs.

Your fingers carded through his hair as you looked down at him. “You’re being very evil right now.”

“I’m sorry,” He told you, but you knew that he really wasn’t. He spread your legs further and pressed the most featherlight kiss against your clit before looking up at you again. “What do you want?”

There were a lot of things you could’ve said in answer— in that moment, you were craving his fingers and his mouth too— but after the exhaustingly long drive, you simply just wanted to be as close to him as possible as quickly as possible. 

“Honestly, I really need you inside me,” You told him softly, hand moving from his hair to his cheek. “I need your cock. Please. Is that okay?”

He let out a contented groan at your honesty, head falling against the side of your thigh. “Fuck, yeah, of course that’s okay.” 

Steve moved away from you then, his warmth leaving your body as he pulled back to look at you. The juxtaposition of you being naked right then and him still being completely clothed, made you pout at him.  

“Well, this is very unfair,” You said, reaching out to grab at his shirt. 

Steve was smiling as he leaned in to press a quick kiss against your lips. “I knew you were going to say that.”

Before you could playfully complain any further, he pulled his shirt off and your fingers quickly moved to the waistband of his sweatpants. He let you pull them down along with his boxers, revealing his hard cock that you bit your lip at the sight of, and then Steve did the rest of the work of pulling them off his legs and tossing them somewhere to the side. 

When his body was once again on top of yours, his warmth enveloping you completely, he didn’t hesitate to push inside of you, your wetness making it easy for him to fill you to the hilt. 

Steve’s thrusts were languid and slow, both of you simply craved the feeling of each other rather than anything else. His lips found yours in the most searing kiss that was so different from his unhurried movements above you. It was a messy clash of tongues and teeth and one of your hands came up to tangle itself in his hair. 

You broke the kiss when a particularly rough stir of his hips made him push deeper inside of you and you gasped. “Shit, yes, Steve, right there.”

He hit that specific spot again and again and you were moaning louder each time, not worried about how thin the walls maybe were in this hotel. “You sound so pretty screaming for me, honey. You’re so fucking good.”

You nodded profusely, trying to keep your eyes on his, but it was too hard not to let them slip shut with every perfect snap of his hips. “Only for you.”

It didn’t take long for both of you to reach your ends— it was his thumb on your clit that triggered your orgasm, and it was the feeling of your walls clenching around him as you came that sent Steve over the edge too, pressing his face into your neck. 

A quiet stillness took over as your racing hearts returned to normal and a deeper tiredness took over and made your eyelids feel heavy. 

After you weren’t sure how long, Steve started to shift so that he could move off of you, but you stopped him with a hand on his back before his softening cock could slip out of you and told him that you wanted to stay like this for a bit longer. He didn’t protest your words and instead buried his face back in your neck, pressing the sweetest kiss against your pulse point. You two slowly fell asleep just like that for the time being, too spent and exhausted to make any other movements. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

If it weren’t for the incessant sound of someone knocking on the door, you were certain that you would’ve slept for a few more hours. 

The sound woke you up slowly and then all at once. Your eyes opened and you got the urge to pull the blanket over your head. You weren’t even sure when exactly that had happened, but at some point, you and Steve finally made it under the covers and you had also grabbed his t-shirt and slipped it on too. 

You ultimately didn’t pull the blanket over your head to muffle the noise. Instead, you pulled it off of you when you realized that the knocking was coming from your room. 

“Shit.” 

The door that connected your and Steve’s rooms was still open and you were suddenly so certain that the knocks you were hearing were being rapped against your room door. 

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked when he felt you get out of bed. He tiredly rubbed his eyes; you, on the other hand, were suddenly the complete opposite of tired. 

“I’m pretty sure my mom’s right outside my door. Or my dad. Or both,” You answered him as you quickly searched for your underwear and pajama shorts and found them in different random spots on the floor. “It’s probably both of them, actually, and I’ve had no time to mentally prepare for whatever this conversation is about to be.”

“I can go answer it, if you want,” You heard Steve suggest as you hastily pulled on your bottoms. 

“I think it would be better if we kept the illusion up that we don’t sleep together,” You told him. “I’m gonna go see what they want and I’ll be back in a sec.”

You rushed over to where he was now sitting up in the bed and pressed the quickest kiss against his lips before heading over to your room and pulling the door that connected your room to Steve’s shut.  

You ruffled up the untouched bed so it looked like you actually slept in it last night and then went to open the door before another series of knocks were rapped against it. 

“Hi, good morning, sorry,” You rushed out. It was only your mom standing in front of you, and right then it was hard to tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “The bed’s so comfortable, it was hard to wake up.”

She nodded at your words. “The bed in your dad and I’s room is terrible, we’re gonna try to switch to a different room tonight. Anyway, what time did you and Steve make it here last night?” 

“It was a little after ten.”

“And how was the drive?”

“Good,” You answered simply. “Me and Steve split the time so that made it easier.”

“That’s good,” She smiled. “Do you know if he’s still sleeping?”

“Um, yeah, he probably is,” You shrugged through your lie. “He’s right next door, but I haven’t seen him since last night.”

“Okay, well, your dad and I are going to have breakfast downstairs in an hour with your Aunt Tracy and Uncle Sean, you and Steve should come too.”

Her words sounded like a suggestion, but you knew that they were actually the opposite. 

You forced a smile. “Oh, okay, we’ll definitely meet you guys down there. I’ll go wake him up now.”

“Okay, great,” Your mom smiled back at you. “See you two then.”

You closed the door when she started walking away and headed back to Steve’s room. 

“So, what happened?” He asked as you climbed back into bed. 

You settled next to him and rested your head against his bare shoulder. “We’re having breakfast downstairs with my parents, and my aunt and uncle in an hour.”

Steve nodded at your statement. “Honestly, that sounds good. The last time we ate was right before we got here last night and it was shitty McDonald’s.”

“Yeah, those were the saddest burgers ever,” You said with a sigh. 

“Wait, which aunt is gonna be there?” Steve abruptly asked. “The nice one or the one that hates me?”

You laughed a little. “The nice one. But, I feel like I should remind you again that Cheryl does not hate you.”

“You don’t remember that party the way I do,” He said and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his seriousness. 

It had been a birthday party for your mom a few years back. Of course, Steve and his parents were there, and you and him spent most of the night camping out in your room, away from your mom’s friends and your overbearing family members. It had been your idea to sneak a bottle of wine from the kitchen and bring it to your room, but Steve was the one who actually went and did it. Or at least attempted to before he got caught by your aunt and, according to him, was harshly scolded by her. 

“I’ve seen her a bunch of times since that party and I promise you she doesn’t think you’re a bad influence on me or whatever,” You told Steve, lifting your head from his shoulder to press a kiss against his cheek. “And she definitely doesn’t hate you.”

“We’ll see what happens at the wedding later.”

You leaned in to whisper into his ear. “Don’t worry, if she does hate you, I’ll defend you from any and all shitty comments.”

He gave you an amused smile when you pulled back to look at him. “Thank you, that’s all I ask. You’re the best girlfriend ever.”

You smiled at him as you leaned your head back on his shoulder and closed your eyes, attempting to get a little more sleep before you’d have to force yourself out of bed again. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Steve was right and he didn’t hesitate to whisper an “I told you” in your ear seconds after your Aunt Cheryl gave a warm greeting to you and the coldest hello to him. 

You didn’t have time to respond to Steve’s whispered words because you two were being told by one of the ushers to find seats since the wedding was minutes away from starting. The weather was pretty much perfect; warm but not so much so that it made sitting outside entirely unbearable, which was a little surprising for the middle of August but you weren’t complaining. 

Steve was on one side of you and your parents were on the other, and you smiled in thanks when your mom complimented the dress you were wearing; the long pale pink floral dress that you bought only because you knew she would like it, and you had wanted to avoid her saying anything bad about your clothing choices like she usually did. 

About halfway through the ceremony, Steve’s hand found yours, and the simple action made you suddenly feel warm all over. You shouldn’t have felt so fazed by it— that was something that had happened practically a million times before— but the current circumstances made it feel a little different. 

Samantha was one of your cousins that you weren’t that close with— you remembered going to the sleepover for her fifth birthday party and that was one of the last times you two hung out before you and your family moved to Indiana, and then you only saw her during random family occasions— but she looked beautiful and seemed so genuinely happy that it was hard not to feel a little emotional; it was what weddings did to people. 

You tried to listen to the vows and everything else being said right then, but it was hard to fully focus when all you could think about was a future that would someday involve this with Steve, and how nice that sounded. 

Maybe Steve could suddenly read your mind or the subtle smile on your face, but either way, he was giving your hand a light squeeze, as if telling you that he agreed with everything you were thinking about. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

To probably no one’s surprise, you and Steve stayed attached at the hip throughout the majority of the night. Your hand was always laced in his or his was placed at the small of your back. 

You were grateful for that closeness and you were especially grateful for him because he made it a thousand times easier to deal with family members that you hadn’t seen in forever and the forced small talk that came along with that estrangement. 

It quickly became a revolving door of the same topics and questions— how was graduating last year, how is college going now, what are your future plans, etc, etc— and you thought you’d be able to put up with it for the entire night. However, there were only so many times you could say, “Fine,” “Good,” and “I’m still figuring it out” before it became too annoying. 

Therefore, the second the brief conversation with one of your uncles came to an end, your hand found Steve’s and you led him out of the big ballroom where the reception was happening. He didn’t question your current antics and you two ended up outside moments later— it was much cooler out now, but still comfortable— and you headed toward a little garden area with a bench that you had noticed earlier. 

 “Let’s just sit here for a bit,” You said to Steve, not explaining the why behind you wanting to do this right now, but you didn’t have to. 

He nodded, understanding just how exhausting this entire day had been for you, and sat down with you. Things fell into a comfortable quiet, the first silence all night, and you reveled in it. You shifted around after a few moments so your head was in his lap and your legs dangled off the side of the bench.

“Do you wanna leave? I think we’ve been here for a reasonable amount of time,” Steve said, breaking the quiet after a few minutes of you simply holding his hand and looking at all of the flowers in the garden. “We can go to that Dairy Queen we saw when we were driving here last night, if you want. I think it’s only like ten minutes away.”

You knew what he was trying to do— make things light in any way that he could, and in this case, it meant offering up ice cream— and once again you were reminded of just how fucking grateful you were to have him here with you in this moment.  

“I love you,” You said instead of answering his question. “Like, a lot, a lot, a lot.”

You immediately noticed the smile spread across his face as he looked down at you. “Hm, you’re not drunk right now, so where is this sappiness coming from?” 

“Shh, don’t question it. Just let me get disgustingly cheesy with you right now, Harrington.”

“Okay, sorry, continue,” He told you, but then he abruptly kept going before you could start talking. “And I love you too, by the way.”

You smiled up at him. “Aside from all of the family stuff I had to deal with today, this wedding was actually really nice and it made me think about you and us a lot.”

“In a good way or a bad way?” He was so obviously teasing you because you were certain that he knew the answer to his own question.  

You shook your head at him. “I don’t even want to dignify that insane question with a response.”

He laughed a bit as he pulled your intertwined hands up and pressed a soft kiss to the back of yours, and it was hard not to smile at the action.  

“This entire day made me realize that when we eventually, one day down the road, do this, I don’t want it to be anything like this,” You told him. 

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want all of this huge fanfare and I don’t want a bunch of people that I don’t ever talk to, to be there either. If we just have the kids, and Robin and Eddie, and Nancy and Jonathan too. Oh, and Harold, of course. That’s more than enough for me. Is that okay? Does that even make sense?” You looked up at him to see if he understood what you meant, and of course he did. He always did. 

Steve nodded immediately. “That sounds perfect, honestly.” 

“I know that probably won’t be able to happen because of how involved our moms are gonna want to be with everything, but I just think the thought is nice,” You said with a halfhearted shrug. 

“We can do a small thing with just everyone that we want to be there and then let our moms take the reins on the huge fancy thing that they’ll force us to do.”

“God, you’re so smart,” You said and you wanted to sit up so that you could kiss him— you’d been craving it all night, actually— but you felt too comfortable to move right then. “So, is this a proposal, Steven?”

You were the one doing the teasing now, a smile playing on your lips as you looked up at him and he looked down and met your eyes again. 

He shook his head as he smiled at you. “Give me some time to plan the most elaborate one ever.”

“Take all the time you need,” You told him, and you genuinely meant that. In your eyes, there wasn’t any rush to get to that place. Even though you loved talking about the future with him, you didn't feel the need to make it happen before it was meant to. You two were already happy and in love and you felt so certain that that would never change, so you felt content being in this place with him. “Thank you again for coming with me to this, by the way.”

He lightly poked your side, making you let out the quietest breath of a laugh, before speaking. “You know I’d never say no to you.”

“Aw, I love it when you also get sappy with me,” You sat up then and finally leaned in to slot your lips against his. You hummed in contentment the second he eagerly reciprocated the kiss and your hand instinctually moved to the nape of his neck as you pushed yourself closer to him. 

You savored the moment for as long as you could before you had to pull away to take a breath. “Okay, now let’s get out of here and get ice cream.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Unplanned

George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: High school sweethearts having the best time of their life, when everything seems so perfect. But sometimes, things don’t go as we plan them.

Warnings: angst, unwanted pregnancy, some curse words, a bit of sadness (but it gets better, I promise!)

A/N: I had a dream earlier this week, so it’s based on it. I don’t know how I feel about it (I read it nearly ten times, it’s fine, I guess.), personally I don’t think that George would act like he did in the beginning of this fic, so take it as a part of the plot. I have some ideas for possible part two, but who knows if I make it happen.

Please don’t use my writings without my permission! Pictures found on Pinterest.

———

Young and naive love, that’s all they’ve always said when they saw you and George intertwined with each other every time you walk through the paddock. Meeting at high school, you knew he was the one, and his thing about racing, it was something that attracted you even more.

You always loved to ruffle his hair before the driver’s parade, just to make him grumpy, because he spent so much time fixing his wave of golden brown locks. The way he could make you smile, his warm embrace giving you peace and comfort, the days you enjoyed in the countryside with your families because your parents simply knew each other.

It was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

George’s move to F1 was sure, his dreams coming true, he couldn’t be more happy and motivated to push himself to the limits more. On the other hand, you just found out the horrible thing.

Walking through the paddock in Brazil, you fought the nausea, as you held onto George’s hand. You tried to tell him, but you were interrupted by someone or something every time. He noticed your strange behaviour, your pale face.

“Are you well, love?” He suddenly stopped to get a better look at you, leaning down closer to you.

This was your only chance to say it. “George, I’m pregnant.”

Your whispered words nearly gave him a heart attack.

“You’re- what?”

“You heard me. I don’t want to yell it here.” Your hand went to his cheek, the warmth of his skin seeping into your palm, bringing you comfort for your nerves.

George just stood there, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief. He grabbed your hand only to push it from his face away.

“We’re gonna talk about this later. I need to focus on the race.”

Your heart broke in your chest. Yeah, you thought just for a moment that he would be happy. But it was far from ideal.

———

George was pacing around the hotel room, while you sat on the edge of the bed, fiddling with your fingers.

“How could it happen? We were so careful, you on the pill and we were using protection.. how?”

“That time in the summer, when I was sick and taking antibiotics, that night on the yacht, when we weren’t sober..”

“Holy shit…”

“George, look, I know it’s not easy, it’s not perfect timing right now, but we can do it.”

“Are you crazy? We’re twenty. You can’t be serious about this.”

“What? So you want to give it up? Get rid of it?”

George pinched the bridge of his nose, getting frustrated and hopeless.

“I can’t take care of the baby now. I’m gonna drive in F1 next season, it’s a big thing for me and I’m not ready to be a father. I don’t have an energy for the act of loving family.”

That was enough for you to bring you to the tears. Your hand went down at your stomach, sign of protective love for the small bundle growing inside you.

George hasn’t single clue what to do in that moment. He just stared into the wall, his mind blank, feeling like his world just shattered.

“I’m sorry I can’t fit into your image of fairytale life.”

And with that he walked out of the hotel room.

Also it was a very last moment he saw you for a very very long time…

———

“George and babies! What a cute sight!”

“He should be a dad! Baby suits him!”

“Make him a daddy already!”

“Oh, what a father figure!”

You did a great job for those past six years to be away from media and spotlight. After that day you saw George last, you never looked back. Maybe it was selfish. But his opinion on the situation was clear. He didn’t want a baby.

“Mom, I said that I have to pee. Are you listening to me?”

The voice of your son William interrupted your thoughts, while you were scrolling through your instagram for the first time in the past years. Brushing your annoyance by those comments aside, you looked at Will with soft smile.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. I’ll wait here for you, just go to the restrooms there.” You pointed to the direction and Will just rushed there.

When he was about four years old, he came across the idea of karting. You were strictly against it, but after his teacher in the kindergarten was done with his ultimate rant about formula and racing, you just took him to the first lesson and that was a start. Yeah, of course you were scared, not much about George possibly finding out, spotting you, but about Will’s safety. But you cannot expect someone with strong racing genes to be interested in being a scientist.

While you were waiting for your son to come back, you haven’t noticed the buzz around the circuit, signalling the famous person appearing around. You grabbed small helmet and looked at it with soft smile, brushing your thumb over it.

“Mom! You need to see this! Mom! C’mon!”

Will was calling you from the small group of kids, his voice full of excitement and joy. You raised your brows with amused smile, when he was excited about something, he just couldn’t brush it off.

As you took a few steps closer to him, you were curious about what was everybody so ecstatic about.

“That’s George Russell, mom!”

At that name your blood ran cold. Oh no.

“Will, how do you know him?”

“Jeez mom, everybody around knows him! He used to race here as a kid. He’s cool!”

Well, it was inevitable.

Her eyes carefully found George, seeing him interacting with the youngsters. He looked good, more mature and composed. Also his hairstyle was different, giving him a manly touch. Wrinkles around his eyes were still the same, but more apparent, when he smiled. And his eyes.. god, they were the same mesmerising blue colour.

Will left her standing there, getting through the small crowd of kids, to get his signature from him.

“Mr. Russell? George. Can you please sign this? You’re my inspiration.”

His small teeth appearing in grin as he gave George his cap. George’s eyes fell onto him, smiling cheerfully as he signed the cap.

“Just call me George, I’m not much formal person, when it comes to kids. I want to be friendly, because I know how exciting is to meet your idol.”

William’s eyes were glowing with happiness as he held the now signed cap.

“You’re amazing! Thank you.”

George smiled at the boy, watching him running to his mom. It was strange, because he looked familiar. His smile faded as he saw you, looking down at the boy with proud smile.

“Mom! I’m so happy, look!”

Will was excited, nearly jumping on the spot from it.

“I never saw you this happy. Guess it was worth it.” You smiled at him, ruffling his hair.

Without another look at George, you walked to prepare Will for karting session. You thought that he hasn’t noticed you.

George stood afar, watching the kids getting ready, but giving his main attention to you and your son. Will was already giving you hard time with his rolling eyes, sighs and “of course, mom”. While you wore your worried face, furrowing brows there and there, kissing him on his forehead and then fastening his small helmet securely.

When the session started, you moved to the sidelines, watching the circuit with heavy heart and tightness in chest.

“He’s a natural talent, I must say.”

The well known deep voice made you froze in place, your palms sweaty and your throat dry. Carefully, you turned to look at George.

“He is. I can’t keep him calm for a moment straight.”

Trying to hold your voice steady, you looked back at the track. George took a place beside her, doing the same.

“It’s been a long time.”

The ridiculous situation made you chuckle.

“I don’t even know what to say.”

“Yeah, me too.”

The silence between you was thick as hell. Both of you had your own reels of thoughts in your minds.

“I often thought about meeting you again one day. What would I say to you. And I’m saying I’m sorry.”

You lifted your gaze at him, feeling surprised but somehow deeply satisfied.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not. I was a total jerk back then. I should’ve acted more like an adult, I hurt you.”

The pain of the past years hit you like a train, while you just nodded.

“It’s strange seeing you happy now. You’re a caring mom, from what I saw. I guess the father must be proud too.”

That was the moment you snorted a little, making him confused.

“Look, George… I… I’m sorry too. We were young and it was a little selfish from me to want you to take responsibility.”

“We should’ve talk about it more that day. It’s one of the few things I regret in my life.”

“Well… I’m sorry that I disappeared. But I was so sad, hurt and scared, that I was sure that I need to do things alone. And I did a damn good job.”

George frowned a little, turning his head to look at you.

“William is six years old by the way.”

You said with sigh, locking your eyes with his. At first he didn’t understand. Then, it clicked in his brain. Pointing to track and gasping in shock, his eyes went wide. You just nodded.

Silence was deafening, while George collapsed at the nearby bench, sitting there speechless.

“William? You named him William?”

You took a seat beside him with soft hum.

“Holy fuck. I’m so shocked.”

“I’m sorry. You would find out sooner or later. And now I’ll be a fool. Fooling you, my parents, your parents, but mostly Will. I told him that his father and I broke up before his birth. He didn’t question it.”

George shook violently, running his hands through his hair.

“You kept this for yourself for many years. You kept the baby. Oh my god.. I missed so much. Six years.”

“I loved you and it hurt, I hadn’t had the heart to get an abortion. And I don’t regret that decision.”

He took your hand in his, the distant warmth of his touch seeping into your skin, making you smile.

“I want to be present in his life. I want to get to know him, to give him everything I could. I want to be a father I should’ve been.”

Your smile grew wide, tears glistening in your eyes.

“Sure, but it’ll take time. I need to reveal it to him carefully. I might be on the black list for a while, but he’d be over the moon, that George Russell is his dad.”

George let out a soft laugh, his voice shaky.

“I’ll take any time in the world. I’ll make it worth it. I won’t disappoint him. I won’t disappoint you.”

[f1cflcfic]

The Prophecy (SMAU ft. Lando Norris) Part III

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader (y/n)

summary: what happens after the break-up that noone saw coming? as Y/N L/N gears up to release her next album, each song reveals a little bit of the past, present and future of her relationship with Lando Norris. Inspired by a curated playlist built around "The Prophecy".

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons.

genre: social media au, angst, exes to lovers, happy ending

part i part ii

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

Halloween, 2026

1st week of November, 2026

[Transcript of Y/N on the Graham Norton Show]

“Wow, Y/N L/N everybody, with “Jaded” from her new album “the Prophecy” that’s out next week - thank you, that was amazing.”

“Thanks so much, I was so nervous!”

“Nervous?” A giggle ripples through the audience at Graham’s incredulous expression. “Do you really still get nervous?”

“I do, yeah for special performances like this one, or Saturday Night Live in the States – it’s scary to sing on live TV!”

“Now, would you say that’s the scariest thing you’ve ever done?”  Y/N doesn’t answer, just looks on warily. “Because it’s just been Halloween, and I heard that last year’s was particularly scary for you.”

“Yes, but only because I just wasn’t made for Halloween – I hate scary stuff, but have a very insistent slasher loving friend,” Y/N confesses, then moans in embarrassment, hiding behind her hands. “I can’t believe you’re bringing this up Graham, I’m gonna be so uncool after this.”

“It’s okay,” Paul Mescal chimes in from further up the red sofa, “I can’t watch horror or anything like that either.”

With a small, grateful smile, Y/N starts recounting a story. “Right?! But I have this friend who is obsessed, and she’s wanted me to go to a haunted house with her for ages. I fumbled my excuse last year, then got dragged into it. It was awful. I went in holding Sabrina’s hand, but then that traitor let go of me at the very first jumpscare, which was some type of room with this chainsaw guy and then a bunch of creepy people making creepy noises. I tried to grab her hand again and just made a run for it in a blind panic, only to realise halfway down the hall that the creepy noises aren’t stopping and I’m screaming and running even harder. Until there’s a tug on my hand and I turn around, only to realise that I’ve been running through this maze with a death grip on this poor actor’s hand. And he just goes “if I show you the exit, will you take a selfie with me?”, and that’s the one and only time I’ve ever made use of the celebrity card.”

Everyone laughs, which Graham seamlessly uses to pivot to the Red Chair stories. “Let’s see what other entertaining stories we have here today. Tell us, what’s your name and where are you from?”

“Hi, my name’s Vivian and I’m from Glastonbury.”

“Oh, that’s nice! The hallowed festival grounds – is your story related to that at all?”

“It does, actually!”

Graham looks delighted by that, and claps his hands, “oh yes – I can’t wait to hear this. Off you go Vivian”

“So I work as a police officer in Somerset, but I usually take time off for Glastonbury each year, whereas some of my colleagues work security for everyone attending. Y/N was actually performing that year, so I made sure to take time off to watch her set.” It makes Y/N smile, but when she leans in to get a closer look her eyes go wide all of a sudden.

Graham looks over at Y/N questioningly, but motions for Vivian to continue – his hand resting on the lever. 

“I remember showing up to work afterwards, only to find out that my colleagues had been the ones to escort Y/N to and from the festival grounds. I was really bummed about it, jealous they got to meet her. But then earlier this year, around September or so I was on patrol in the area – it was a fairly quiet day on country roads. Until we get closer to this small borough, and there’s someone quite clearly about to drive through a roundabout counterclockwise.”

Y/N sinks into the sofa, trying to disappear. “We signal for the driver to pull over, and when I go up to their vehicle to write them a ticket, I got my moment after all - it turned out to be Y/N.”

“In my defense – I hadn’t driven in the UK for three years, I’m sorry! I paid the ticket!” Y/N says weakly.

The audience laughs, and Y/N cheeks go red from humiliation, but Vivian is quick to corroborate. “She did, and even signed my phone for me.”  

“Alright Vivian, that’s a good story, you can walk, go on then. Reminder everyone tonight in London – be safe on the roads, Y/N is out there!”

2d week of November, 2026

2 week of November - release weekend, 2026

[Daily Mail excerpt] Lando No-Comment-rris refuses to answer questions about ex-girlfriend Y/N L/N as he parties it up in London

As the Formula One driver for McLaren turns yet another year older, the question if he's also gotten any wiser. Norris was photographed entering exclusive club Annabel's, before later making his way to a private afterparty with close friend Martin Garrix.

The driver has been having an eventful F1 season, with a very tight race for the championship that's seemingly going to get decided in the final race, as Norris battles it out to defend his current #1 ranking. The athlete has clearly reaped the benefits of his new and improved lifestyle, which seems to include a strict exercise and mealplanning regimen and very little distractions. However, Norris clearly made an exception for his birthday, as onlookers said he was "taking shots" and "enjoying himself" in the VIP section. Pictured below is Norris, together with friends Martin Garrix and fellow driver Max Verstappen.

Perhaps the night was much needed, as Norris has had to endure a very private break-up becoming very public after the release of Y/N L/N's latest album on his actual birthday. In fact, in a rare twist of fate, both the F1 driver and his ex were spotted in the UK capital over the weekend to mark the occasion. While Norris enjoyed Mayfair, L/N was spotted elsewhere in the city as she performed an acoustic set of "The Prophecy".

The two previously resided in Monaco, but since their break-up have not been seen much in public. Norris is believed to have moved his main residence back to the UK, while L/N is rumoured to have returned to her original residence as well.

Up until now, Norris and L/N have remained tightlipped about their relationship and ensuing breakup. When asked about his feelings on the album's release date, Norris refused to comment. Similarly, he did not want to answer questions as to whether the two had been in touch. In a recent interview on the popular podcast Call Her Daddy, L/N did seem to imply there were no hard feelings between the two. The two do still share mutual friends, as is evident by Martin Garrix congratulating Y/N L/N on her new album in his IG stories earlier this weekend.

We have reached out to their reps for comment.

3d week of November, 2026

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

You can read Part I & II by going here

♥ likes, comments, reblogs are always very much appreciated ♥

taglist (open) : @charlesgirl16