#they seem happy and they have a daughter together
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"I think the cycle only ends when you find the will to walk away."
Got a lot of Q's for this in my inbox. Figured I'd just address them here.
tw: mentions of suicide, suicidal ideation
Re: the ending of S2:
Jinx did not die.
She symbolically killed her old self, and with it, her last ties to the past that imprisoned her. She understood that for her sister to move on and live her life - be happy without guilt - she'd have to renounce the bonds that held them together.
Her talk with ghostly Silco was the 'sign-off' she'd been waiting for, ever his dutiful daughter. Throughout S2, she kept hoping he'd haunt her, and in doing so, offer some impetus given her aimlessness. Maybe just straight up boss her around, and tell her how she's supposed to exist now that he's no longer there to be a (subversive if loving) guiding hand.
But it was the promise of time (as represented by Ekko) healing old wounds, and the courage to feel, as she once had - a hopeful child with a hopeful future - that allowed Jinx to commit impetus to action.
Her blimp-ship in the climactic battle is a tribute to Isha - but also to the child in Jinx's own fractured psyche: Powder. She's letting both little girls have one last hurrah before she takes care of business - and cuts off the last oaths, duties and commitments that bind her to a past whose parameters she's outgrown.
Better still, she knows she's got the capacity to outgrow them.
That was the point of Jinx's arc with Isha, and why, no matter my misgivings on Isha's character herself, I found Jinx's trajectory towards a more nurturing and fun-loving figure more life-affirming and positive than the straightforward 'Daddy's Villain Goes Postal' shtick.
It's even why there's a minigame titled Jinx Fixes Everything. It's Jinx, struggling and stumbling, as she tries to rewrite her narrative, and finds in herself the capacity to do good.
To fix things that seem irreparably broken.
And to understand why she's reached this stage, we've got to let go of our tendency to project our own stuff onto Jinx (precious meow meow, unrepentant terrorist, manic pixie crazypants, edgy hot psycho) and acknowledge the purpose she plays in Arcane's thematic structure.
Jinx's character comes off as a death-seeker, and that's no shocker. She is hounded by terrible guilt and loss. She's got blood on her hands, and ghosts on her heels, and no matter what she does, she can't seem to be rid of them. Her inner mind's fractured, her mannerisms ooze pure chaos, and she seems a creature of pure feral impulse and no mercy.
That's the Jinx we're accustomed to seeing in S1 - except that's also both the front she's most likely to put on during that timeline, and the persona that is necessary for her to inhabit to survive, as Silco's daughter and his top enforcer.
Then Silco kicks the bucket, she symbolically fulfills his dream by shooting at the Council HQ, she accepts that she must inhabit this path of shadows and loneliness (as symbolized by her starkly decorated chair in the tea party scene), she accepts the fragmented push-and-pull between past and present, and...
And now what?
Silco's given her a semblance of direction for six years, and he's gone. Vi, the sister she'd hoped would return, and whom she'd hinged so many childishly idealized hopes on, is herself traumatized, and afraid of what her sister's become.
Jinx has her shadows and her loneliness. Jinx is traumatized. Jinx is suicidal.
But Jinx is still, whatever else, alive.
And all living things need connections.
That's why we as the audience enjoy her little found family dynamic with Isha and Sevika. It's Jinx, taking the first tentative steps to reach out to people beyond Silco and Vi, and realizing, wow, she enjoys the pay-off.
And all throughout S2, we see Jinx growing more and more comfortable in this newfound space - even jealously guarding it at the expense of Zaun's liberty, and Silco's wishes, because she can't bear to lose what she's found.
And what she finds empowers her enough that, when Warwick shows up, she's actually willing to reach out to Vi, and call upon their family connection, because Jinx is learning the value of bonds, not as baling hooks of guilt, but as buoys to carry her forward.
That's the story Jinx's relationships serve to tell in S2. Each one shapes the choice she makes in the finale. Until she learns to accept the past (Vi), to lay the monsters to rest (Silco and Vander/Warwick), forgive herself (Caitlyn) trust that time heals all wounds (Ekko), and hope for happier new beginning (Isha), she'll never trust herself enough to just seize the chance.
Jinx's culminating arc is not about death, much less self-erasure. It's about resurrection, and embracing the sublime chaos of a freed mind, and a lightened spirit. That's what she craves beyond simple death, and what her baptism by fire, blood and riverwater, has been about.
Each trial grinds her down into someone else. Someone new.
Someone closer to who she is meant to be, rather than who she's expected to be.
That's why she's so glad to make the sacrifice for Vi. She's not dying as an act of self-immolation. She's giving her sister - the one who's proven she'll never give up on her - the ultimate gift, and showing Vi that she deserves to live.
She needs Vi to live, so Jinx, the persona, can finally die.
"He (Silco) didn't make Jinx. You did."
She's basically saying, "I love you, I will always be with you, but you are no longer responsible for my actions. Please move forward with your life, and grant me the choice to do the same."
It's two sisters embracing everything they've meant to each other, acknowledging the pain weighing them down on both sides, and welcoming the new so they can each slough off old paradigms and live life as a whole person - or at least take steps to remembering what wholeness feels like.
That's the reason the show's final shots linger on the Hexgate tunnels, Jinx's monkey bomb, and the aircraft.
It's the show's way of reminding us that Jinx has ascended to a different version of her identity - one removed from the past that haunted her. It's Jinx, finally striking out alone, away from the sister whose memory she clung so desperately to, and who was, in turn, horrified by her hand in making Powder a monster (perceived guilt or real, fandom may debate ad nauseum) due to past mistakes and abandonment.
The ending of Arcane isn't tragic. It's deeply hopeful, and serves as a reminder that no matter how damaged you think you are, and no matter how monstrous the world finds you, there are still ways to come back to yourself - or to walk the path toward a new you.
Jinx is symbolized by crows. Jinx is shown with firelights emerging from her mouth. Jinx is depicted holding a torch like Janna ushering in the winds of change.
Thematically, Jinx is change.
And the best way she can embody that change is to write her story, and make it her own.
#arcane#arcane league of legends#arcane silco#silco#arcane vi#arcane violet#vi#violet#arcane jinx#jinx#arcane ekko#ekko#arcane vander#vander#arcane warwick#warwick#arcane season 2#arcane s2#tw: suidice#tw: sucidal thoughts#arcane timebomb#timebomb#jinx x ekko#arcane season two#league of legends
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── ❝ truth be told ❞ 🐰ྀི ̟!!
⟢ a pediatrician!baekhyun au req'd by this lovely anonie <3 :') ty baby!
sum: you and baekhyun were college sweethearts, bound by shared dreams of a future together. but when he was accepted to a medical residency program across the country, you kept a secret—you're pregnant. fearing that your news would derail his dream of becoming a doctor, you chose to disappear, raising your daughter alone. three years later, in a new city, you bring your little girl in for a routine check-up, only to discover her pediatrician is none other than baekhyun, her father.
જ⁀➴°⋆ content: 18+/MDNI. 24.2k+ words. omg Hahaha 🫣. baekhyun x f!reader. chanyeol x f!reader. baekhyun x f!oc. lovers to strangers to co-parents to lovers again. angst, slow burn, fluffy, then we get reaaaallll smutty ⟡ pet names, praise kink, body worship, unprotected sex, p in v, bulge kink, creampie, slight breeding kink (y'all should know me by now 🤟🏼😣) ⟡ ALSO! i made a playlist for you guys to vibe out to while you read cus i love u <3 :') its linked in the title!!!
you and baekhyun had once been the epitome of college sweethearts—late-night study sessions that bled into spontaneous adventures, laughter, and whispered dreams of a future together. you were inseparable, his drive to become a doctor and your quiet dream of building a life with him making everything feel so perfect. you could picture it all—the home, the life, the love, knowing you’d be together forever.
during those years, you moved in together. things got serious quickly. talks of marriage, kids, and a future you’d both start building when the time was right were always at the forefront. but as much as you both wanted to dive in right away, you both agreed that you’d wait until baekhyun had at least finished his schooling and residency. it made perfect sense—his dream of becoming a doctor came first, and you were happy to support him, knowing you’d have a lifetime to make it all happen.
you’d completed undergrad together, then post-grad, and now, with your master’s behind you, baekhyun was finishing med school and applying to residency programs. everything seemed to be unfolding just as it should.
but life, as it tends to do, shifted unexpectedly.
when baekhyun’s acceptance letter arrived—the one from his dream residency program across the country—your world tilted, skewed into something unrecognizable. this was his number one pick, the culmination of years of sacrifice and determination. you should’ve been ecstatic, screaming with joy for him, for his future. but instead, a foreign weight settled low in your stomach, twisting into something unnameable.
you’d only just found out, barely two days ago. pregnant. the word clung to you like a vice, heavy and suffocating. you hadn’t planned for this, hadn’t even considered it a possibility. and yet, here it was—undeniable. that stupid test, its second line blaring back at you like a neon sign, mocking the life you thought you had under control.
you stared at it, willing the line to fade, to disappear, to become a cruel trick of your imagination. but it didn’t. and the next test didn’t either. nor the one after. five little sticks, five blaring truths. undeniable. inescapable.
you didn’t want to hold him back. not when his dreams were so close. not when the future he had worked so hard for was finally within his grasp.
so you made a decision. you couldn’t tell him. you couldn’t bear to see the guilt and the pain in his eyes as he would undoubtedly sacrifice his dreams for you and the baby. you thought it was the right thing to do, that you were doing him a favor by disappearing, by cutting off all contact.
you had moved to a new city—far from the places where memories of baekhyun lingered, far from the shadow of the life you’d carefully unraveled. it wasn’t easy; untangling yourself from him had felt like pulling threads from a tapestry until it barely resembled what it once was. but over time, you found a rhythm. a life where thoughts of him became a quiet hum rather than a deafening roar, where the love that had once consumed you slipped quietly into the recesses of your heart.
and now, three years later, you stand here as someone completely transformed: a mother.
raising your daughter alone had its challenges, sure, but you couldn’t deny the sense of purpose it gave you. you were made for this. or maybe it was her—the tiny miracle who had made it all feel so natural. from the moment she came into the world, she was an angel, a light so radiant it softened even the hardest days.
sure, she had her moments. she was a toddler, after all, still learning how to navigate big feelings in a little body. but her resilience—the way she could fall apart one minute and bounce back the next—made everything easier. she was your shadow, your little mimic, always wanting to copy everything you did.
the love she gave you was pure and boundless, something you hadn’t realized could exist until she was in your arms. it was a love that filled the spaces in you that you didn’t even know were empty, a love that made the sacrifices and sleepless nights worth it.
you often found yourself wondering if she was a gift straight from the universe, a little piece of heaven sent just for you. every smile she gave, every tight hug, every soft ‘i love you, mommy’ felt like proof that you were the luckiest soul alive.
and as you watched her now, her tiny fingers curled around her favorite stuffed bunny, a swell of overwhelming gratitude washed over you. life had twisted and turned in ways you never could’ve anticipated, but somehow, in her, it had gifted you everything you’d ever need.
maybe it was the depth of love she gave, the way she radiated warmth and light, that made the thought of telling baekhyun even more terrifying. she was everything—the way her laughter could turn any bad day around, the way her eyes sparkled with innocence and curiosity. a fragile little soul, so beautiful it almost hurt. and you knew, deep down, that baekhyun would’ve adored her. loved her more than words could describe.
the thought of it—of him finding out, of him knowing you’d kept her from him, hidden this piece of him, this precious life from him—it twisted something deep inside you. it made your chest tighten, your thoughts spiral. the guilt, the shame—it felt like a constant ache, one that only grew the more you thought about it.
you and baekhyun talked about it, after all—the future you both dreamed of. lazy nights tangled together under blankets, whispering about what life would look like years down the road. marriage, a house filled with warmth and laughter, children.
he wanted a family with you. he was so sure of it, so sure of you. he used to say that he couldn’t imagine anyone else being the mother of his kids. the way he looked at you when he said it—it was as if his soul had reached out, seen yours, and said, there she is, the one we’ve been waiting for.
he was a dreamer. he’d mapped it all out in his head—two girls, two boys. his perfect little quartet. the oldest, a girl, to set the tone, to be the leader of the pack. then a boy to balance things out, another boy to roughhouse and make the middle feel less lonely, and finally, the baby of the family, a girl to soften the edges of the chaos. he laughed at the improbability of it all, at how life doesn’t work like that, but he loved dreaming about it anyway.
you still remembered the way his face lit up when you’d asked him, teasing, what he’d name his first daughter.
he didn’t even hesitate. he looked up at you, that smile you used to know better than your own, and said, minji.
your little girl, minji, was the brightest star in your universe, her laughter a melody that softened every hard edge of your world. her smile—warm and golden—was like sunlight spilling into the corners of your heart, chasing away the shadows that lingered from the life you left behind. she was growing so fast, each day a reminder of how fleeting these moments were, and how much you wanted to hold onto them.
sometimes, though, when the house was quiet and the weight of the past crept in, you allowed yourself to think about baekhyun. it was never for long—just a passing thought, a wondering what if. you didn’t dare to linger, didn’t dare to stir up the bittersweet ache of old feelings and lingering regrets. he had his life now, and you had yours.
but still, he had been the love of your life, and that kind of love doesn’t just disappear. curiosity tugged at you from time to time. late at night, when minji was fast asleep, you’d catch yourself wondering what he was doing, where he was, if he ever thought about you, too.
yet no matter how strong the urge, you never gave in. you wouldn’t let yourself open his socials, wouldn’t let yourself peer into the window of the life he was living without you. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to know—it was that you couldn’t. because knowing might hurt more than not knowing, and the delicate balance you’d created would come crashing down.
you hadn’t blocked him, not on anything. instead, you deleted every account, wiped your digital footprint clean, and changed your number. you made sure there was no way for him to reach you, no thread he could pull to unravel the wall you’d built between you.
you never allowed yourself to dwell on how hurt he might have been—how confused he must’ve felt, waiting for a call or a text that never came. the promises you’d made to him echoed in your mind, haunting you. i’ll tell him when the time is right. but the right time never came.
and then she was born. tiny fingers curling around yours, eyes so full of life. she reached milestones—her first smile, her first steps, her first word—and with each one, the weight of telling him grew heavier. how could you? how could you drop this truth on him after he’d already missed so much?
you imagined his reaction: the sharp edge of his disappointment, the rawness of his hurt, the anger that would burn in his chest. he’d ask you why—why did you wait? why did you let so much time pass? and you’d have no answer, nothing that could make it right.
as the years went by, the truth turned into a mountain too steep to climb. every day that passed felt like another brick in the wall separating you. every moment you stayed silent made it harder to imagine breaking that silence.
you told yourself it was for the best. you told yourself he deserved better than someone who had made this choice, this mess.
because deep down, you believed it: you didn’t deserve him. not anymore. not after this
the sound of tiny sneakers squeaking against the linoleum floor filled the pediatrician’s office as you followed your daughter toward the nurse’s station. she clutched her favorite stuffed animal tightly in one hand while the other reached back for yours, her eyes wide with curiosity as she took in the colorful murals on the walls.
it was a routine check-up for minji, nothing out of the ordinary. she had been a healthy, happy child since birth, and today was just another appointment to ensure that everything was progressing as it should.
you had scheduled the appointment weeks ago, not knowing who the pediatrician was going to be. when you walked into the small, sunlit office, minji tugged excitedly on your sleeve, her eyes wide with curiosity at the brightly colored walls and the small toys scattered around the waiting room.
“mommy, look!” she gasped, pointing to a painted giraffe. her excitement momentarily eased the nervous flutter in your stomach. “a giraffe!”
“yes, it is, bun! good job!” you smile down at the little girl, holding your hand tightly.
it had been over three years. three years since you’d left your old life—and him—behind. baekhyun was supposed to be a part of your daughter’s story, but you made the impossible choice of keeping him out of it. his dreams had always been so big, and you didn’t want to weigh them down with your own.
a medical assistant called your name, her warm, practiced smile cutting through the haze of your thoughts.
you scooped your daughter into your arms, her tiny hands clutching her stuffed bunny, and followed the nurse into the examination room. she wriggled slightly but settled on your lap, the bunny tucked snugly under her chin as she began the usual routine.
height. weight. temperature. the nurse kept up a cheerful, steady rhythm of chatter, her voice a soft hum in the background as your daughter giggled at the stickers offered to her.
“dr. byun will be in shortly,” the medical assistant said with a final smile before leaving the room.
your heart stopped.
'dr. byun'?
no. it couldn’t be him. it had to be a coincidence. it was a common enough name, wasn’t it? but the sound of it crashed into you, unraveling the calm façade you’d so carefully built.
you told yourself you were being ridiculous. you told yourself to breathe. but the name echoed in your head, louder with every passing second, until you could barely hear your own thoughts over the roar of panic rising in your chest.
then came the knock.
soft. polite.
the door creaked open, and time seemed to slow to an agonizing crawl as he stepped inside.
your breath caught in your throat.
it was him.
fuck.
no.
this wasn’t supposed to happen. not like this. this wasn’t how he was supposed to find out. there were plans you never made, conversations you never had.
this was a complete and utter nightmare. and there was no waking up from it.
“hi, i’m dr. byun—” his voice wavered, the words barely leaving his lips before they caught in his throat. his eyes found yours, wide with recognition, a spark of disbelief flashing like lightning in a storm.
his gaze drifted downward, landing on the little girl perched on your lap. her tiny hands clutched your sweater, her curious eyes meeting his with unfiltered wonder.
for a moment, the world seemed to stop turning.
his lips parted, and your name slipped out, soft and breathless, as if saying it might make the moment vanish. “it’s you,” he murmured, a mixture of shock and something deeper lacing his tone.
you couldn’t find your voice, couldn’t push past the lump forming in your throat. it was as though every nerve in your body had frozen, locked under the weight of his stare.
your daughter, oblivious to the tension coiling around you, tilted her head with a sunny smile. her voice rang out, bright and pure, shattering the silence like glass.
“hi, dr. byun!” she chirped, her words sweet and unassuming, a small anchor of innocence in the overwhelming tide of emotions threatening to pull you under.
baekhyun’s eyes widened instantly, flickering between you and her. you could see the cogs in his mind turning, the pieces falling into place far quicker than you were ready for.
his gaze lingered on her—studying, comparing. the resemblance was impossible to ignore. the same dark, expressive eyes that had once melted your heart, the same warm, radiant smile that mirrored his own.
“is…is she?” his voice was barely above a whisper, as though he wasn’t asking you but trying to make sense of the impossible himself. his eyes never left her, as if every second he stared brought him closer to the undeniable truth.
her delicate features were a perfect blend of you both, like a portrait painted with pieces of your souls. the curve of his nose graced her face, paired with the flush of your rosy cheeks. his silky black hair framed her tiny head, while your lips formed the gentle pout she wore even in sleep. your eyes shone through hers, but her ears—those were unmistakably his. she was everything you were, everything he was—woven together into this perfect, fragile little person, carrying pieces of a love that felt both timeless and out of reach. and now, looking at her, there was no denying it.
your mouth opened, but the words didn’t come. you tried to speak, to explain, to say something—anything—but all that escaped was a breath, shallow and lost in the silence that filled the space between you. the truth hung there, thick and fragile, like a thread that could snap at any moment, leaving you exposed.
you could only nod, slow and uncertain, as the weight of everything pressed down on you. the guilt was suffocating, heavy like a stone lodged in your chest, threatening to spill out in the form of tears you couldn’t afford to shed. but there was no escaping it anymore.
she was his.
baekhyun sank to his knees in front of her, his movements tentative, as if afraid that any sudden motion might make her disappear. he leaned in, eyes soft with a mixture of awe and something deeper, something unspoken.
“so, tell me. what’s your name, sweetheart?” his voice was gentle, tender, the words falling from his lips like a promise he wasn’t quite ready to make.
“minji,” she said proudly, her tiny hands holding up her stuffed bunny, as though it were the most important thing in the world. “this is sonny. she’s a bunny.”
the moment her name reached his ears, something shifted in baekhyun’s chest. his heart skipped, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, soft and amazed. for a brief second, he was lost in the memory of a quiet conversation—the one where you’d asked him what he would want to name your daughter, and how that moment, so simple, had felt like a lifetime ago.
“hi, minji,” he said softly, his voice trembling as his eyes locked onto her small, curious face. he crouched slightly, lowering himself to her level, and the words caught in his throat. “i’m…” his gaze flickered upward to yours, and in that brief second, the weight of it all was laid bare. his expression faltered, his eyes glossing with unshed tears, carrying the unspoken words and unresolved emotions that hung heavy between you.
you saw it then—the man he was before, the one you fell for, unchanged and yet altered by time and pain.
“…a good friend of your mommy’s,” he finally managed, the words shaky but kind.
minji giggled, her laughter light and carefree, like a burst of sunshine breaking through a storm. “mommy has lots of friends!” she chirped, her innocence unknowingly twisting the knife in baekhyun’s chest.
he nodded with a soft smile, his lips barely curving, as if the weight of her words was too much to bear. “she does, doesn’t she?” he murmured. his hands moved carefully as he began preparing for her exam, every motion deliberate, like he was trying to steady himself through the task.
but his eyes… his eyes stayed rooted to the ground, skirting around yours as if meeting your gaze would undo him entirely. and as you stood there, watching him avoid you, something inside you cracked. you knew why. you knew he wasn’t ready yet—not to face you, not to confront the flood of everything that had been left unsaid.
as baekhyun began the check-up, it was as if the floodgates of your heart had been ripped open. memories surged in, overwhelming you like a tidal wave—those plans you had once woven together, the future you had dreamed of, the life you thought you’d build before everything crumbled. nearly four years had passed since you disappeared without a trace, but those dreams now felt like fragile, delicate threads, tangled in the web of secrets you’d spun to protect him.
baekhyun moved with the same calm professionalism that you remembered—his hands steady and sure as he worked. but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from him, from the way he interacted with minji—his touch soft and deliberate, his voice lilting with that same soothing cadence. it was a tenderness that sliced through you, sharp and immediate, a reminder of everything you’d lost. how could you have let him slip away? how could you have convinced yourself that walking away was the right choice?
watching him, gently checking minji’s ears, his voice quieting her in the way he once did for you, something inside you twisted painfully. you couldn’t run from him anymore. not now. not ever again.
the exam ended far too quickly. minji bounced off the examination table, her bunny clutched in her small arms, and baekhyun handed you a stack of papers—educational handouts, visit summaries, the usual paperwork from a child’s wellness check. his fingers brushed yours as he passed them to you, and the brief touch left a burning trail that lingered long after.
minji’s small hand tugged at your sleeve, warm and insistent, her voice a soft melody that cut through the heavy air. “mommy, mommy! can we go play now?”
you forced a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. the weight of the moment pressed on your chest, and you fought to keep the tears from falling. “sure, bun. we’ll go in just a minute.”
the word bun hung in the air between you, and baekhyun flinched. his eyes flickered with something raw, a mix of pain and recognition. that name. it was something he used to call you— a relic of a past that felt both distant and achingly close.
his gaze didn’t leave you, like he was trying to unravel the walls you’d so carefully built around yourself. there was a quiet intensity in his eyes, as if he was searching for something buried deep within you. the space between you both thickened, heavy with unspoken words. it felt suffocating, like the air was being stolen from your lungs. this was it. the moment that would change everything.
after what felt like an eternity, baekhyun cleared his throat, his voice thick with restraint. “we need to talk,” he said, the words heavy and laced with something you couldn’t quite name. “please… i just… i have so many questions.”
you nodded quickly, the anxiety twisting your insides into knots. “um, sure… i can meet you after i drop her off at daycare?” your words rushed out, frantic, as your brow furrowed in uncertainty.
"there’s a coffee shop nearby," he murmured, his voice soft yet steady, the words deliberate. his hand moved to pull out a notepad, pen poised above the paper. with a few swift strokes, he jotted down the name of the place before folding the paper and handing it to you. "i have a couple more patients to see this morning. do you think you can meet me there in an hour?"
his voice was calm, but his eyes—those eyes—told a different story. they flickered with something raw, something desperate, like a storm fighting its way to the surface.
you took the slip of paper, your fingers brushing his, a small shock of warmth shooting through you at the touch. you glanced down at the paper, his handwriting still familiar, though now slightly uneven, as if his nerves had bled into the ink. beneath the coffee shop's name, his number was written—neat but hurried, a subtle tremor in the lines.
you looked back up, and his gaze met yours—quiet, intense, full of unspoken things. without a word, he nodded toward the paper, his voice steady but laced with something fragile, something that didn’t quite fit with the man you knew. "that's my number, bun. just in case you're running late or something."
you nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, but it felt tight, strained. his nickname for you—a small, tender thing—lingered in the air like a spark. you felt it in your chest, but the words caught in your throat. too much. too many emotions swirling. your hands moved on instinct, gathering minji’s things, offering him a tight, polite smile before ushering your daughter out of the room.
but just as you turned to leave, you swore you heard him whisper—barely audible, a plea caught between his teeth, "please, don't leave me hanging this time."
it hit you like a blow to the gut, leaving you breathless. the weight of it pressed down on you, suffocating.
and in that moment, you knew with brutal clarity—you deserved that.
you sat there, the weight of your nerves pressing down on you, each breath feeling too loud in the quiet of the café. baekhyun chatted casually with the barista, ordering drinks like it was any other day, like nothing had changed between you two. his voice was light, unbothered, but it only made the tension in your chest heavier. you gripped the strap of your bag so tightly your fingers ached, heart pounding in your ears, drowning out the soft hum of conversation around you. your mind raced in circles, desperately searching for the right words—something to apologize for the years you took from him, for keeping his daughter from him, for all the lies. but no matter how hard you tried to form the apology, the truth hovered over you: what you did was unforgivable.
when baekhyun finally returned, he slid your drink in front of you, his movements slower than usual, almost tentative. you brought the cup to your lips, the warmth of it familiar, the taste exactly as you remembered—comforting, like a quiet reminder of everything you'd tried to bury.
"i remembered how you liked your coffee," baekhyun murmured, his voice softer than before, tinged with uncertainty. "i hope it's still the same."
you met his gaze, your throat tight as you forced a small smile. "it is. thank you."
baekhyun exhaled a heavy breath, running a hand through his hair, his fingers snagging in the tousled strands. his eyes drifted away from yours, unable to meet your gaze, as if the weight of this moment was pressing down on him just as much as it was on you.
"so..." you began, your voice hesitant, but before you could find the right words, he interrupted.
“i’m engaged,” he blurted, the words sharp and sudden, like a slap to the face.
it hit you in the chest, the shock stealing the air from your lungs. the room seemed to tilt, the ground beneath you crumbling, and you couldn’t find your footing. as if this day wasn’t heavy enough, this new weight crushed you under its force.
"oh," you whispered, the word tasting hollow, barely escaping as your heart constricted. "congratulations. i'm sure she's... amazing."
"mhm," he hummed softly, a brief flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth before it faded. his eyes dropped to his coffee cup, watching the steam rise like he was searching for something in the shifting mist, anything to avoid the tension between you.
you couldn’t find the strength to say more. words seemed pointless now. instead, you sat there, biting your lip, your gaze fixed on the table as jealousy and heartbreak clawed at you from the inside. you knew you had no right to feel this way, no right to be hurt after everything that had happened. but still, the ache lingered, a quiet, relentless sting.
his fingers raked through his hair again, the tension in his jaw unmistakable as he exhaled sharply, frustration thick in the air. when he finally met your gaze, his eyes were raw with hurt, every unspoken word between you now painfully exposed. "so why didn't you tell me? about minji?"
you'd rehearsed this moment a thousand times in your mind, each word crafted carefully, but now, sitting across from him, it all felt empty, hollow. "you had just gotten into your residency program," you said softly, voice shaky. "it was your dream. i…i didn’t want to hold you back."
his eyes darkened, the hurt twisting into something sharper. "so what? you thought you could decide for me? you think i wouldn't have wanted to be there?" his voice cracked with emotion, rising. "do you have any idea how much i waited for you? how many nights i sat by the phone, praying you'd call?"
the weight of it hit you, hard. you'd known, of course—he'd been dropped from the program. he'd fought tooth and nail to get into a second-choice school, one that brought him here, to this city. and now, here he was, sitting across from you, the remnants of his sacrifice hanging in the silence between you.
his gaze faltered, dropping to the steaming cup in front of him. he stared at the swirling mist as if it held the answers, as if the rising steam could ease the hurt, the questions, the ache that had settled between you.
you didn’t know what to say anymore. words felt pointless, insignificant in the face of everything that had unfolded. instead, you sat there, biting your lip, unable to meet his eyes, while jealousy and regret clawed at your chest. it wasn’t your place to feel this way—not after everything you had done. but the sting of it, sharp and biting, wouldn’t fade.
the tears you had spent so long holding back finally began to break free, each drop feeling like it had been waiting a lifetime to fall. you didn’t want to keep apologizing, but the words slipped out, hollow and fragile. "it wasn’t an easy choice, baekhyun. i thought i was doing the right thing."
“‘the right thing’?” his voice softened, but the hurt in his words still rang out like a chord being pulled too tight. "you didn’t even give me a chance. i missed everything—her first steps, her first words. you took all of that from me."
your throat tightened, each breath harder to catch. you swallowed, and your voice cracked under the weight of the truth. “i know,” you whispered, the regret clawing at you. “i regret it every day.”
baekhyun’s hands were curled into fists, white knuckles pressing into the table like they could anchor him in place. he didn’t look at you—his gaze was lost in his coffee, the silence hanging heavily between you both. and then, after what felt like an eternity of stillness, he spoke again, his voice quieter, as if the question had burned him from the inside. “does she know?”
you shook your head slowly, feeling your chest tighten. “i haven’t told her. i didn’t know how... but she’s been asking. she sees the other kids with their dads and wonders why she doesn’t have one.”
baekhyun covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes as if trying to erase the raw pain. "i can't believe this. i can't believe you."
"i know, baekhyun," you whispered, tears spilling down your face without control now. "you have every right to hate me... and if you want, you don’t have to see either one of us again—"
his voice sliced through your words, thick with disbelief, tremoring as if he couldn’t comprehend what you were saying. "are you... are you serious right now? you’d leave? again? how is that supposed to fix anything? did you not think i wanted her? wanted you? we’ve talked about this, bun... you knew what it meant for me to be a dad."
the sobs broke free from you then, impossible to hold back, your chest aching with each desperate breath. you wiped at your face, but your hands trembled too violently, the tears just wouldn’t stop. all you could choke out were broken apologies, fragments of regret slipping between your breaths. "i knew you’d drop everything for her. for us. but... you becoming a doctor, that was your dream... and i was just so scared."
he leaned forward, his expression softening, but there was still a fire in his eyes. “i want to be in her life,” he said, his voice firm, steady, eyes red from the silent tears streaming down his face. “she’s my daughter. and i want to know her. i want her to know me. her father.”
you looked at him, your heart heavy with guilt. “i wasn’t planning to keep you away,” you said, your voice cracking. “i just... i didn’t know how to tell you after all this time.”
baekhyun’s gaze softened, his voice quieter but resolute. “we’ll figure it out. but i’m not letting you push me away again.”
you paused, biting your lip, anxiety clawing at your chest. “but what about your fiancée? you already had a life of your own before today…i can’t help but feel like i’ve fucked everything up for you, baekhyun.”
he shook his head, a soft, bitter laugh escaping him before he quickly suppressed it. his voice faltered, the nickname slipping out before he even realized it. “don’t worry about that, bun—” he stopped mid-sentence, the word tasting strange and wrong on his tongue after your mention of his fiancée. it was as if, in that moment, he’d completely forgotten about her. he cleared his throat, trying to steady himself. “i mean… just let me handle that. but for now... please, promise me you won’t disappear again. promise me you won’t take her away from me. i’m begging you... let me in. i feel like you owe me that much.”
you nodded, the promise catching in your throat. “i promise.”
you scrolled slowly through your camera roll, fingers grazing over the images of your daughter, sharing them with baekhyun—each one, a snapshot of her life, a memory you’d held in secret for so long. each photo was like a tender piece of your soul, each moment a quiet confession of everything that had unfolded without him. there was a rawness in it, a vulnerability that felt like you were unwrapping your heart for him, and it was overwhelming. for both of you.
he sat there, eyes scanning the photos, and a storm of emotions swirled within him. there was anger, sharp and bitter, that you’d kept minji hidden from him. all those years, a secret that was both yours and hers to carry. betrayal lingered in his chest, not from you, but from the truth that he hadn’t been there, that he’d missed out on so much. and yet, despite it not being his fault, guilt settled heavy in his heart—guilt that you had to raise her alone. guilt for every moment you’d carried the weight of motherhood without him by your side.
but baekhyun, the man who had always been able to push past the shadows of the past, found something in the photos—something bright, something he could hold onto. minji’s smile, sweet and dimpled, was a beacon of hope. it was everything he needed to see, to ignite a fire within him. it wasn’t just a reminder of what was lost—it was the fuel that would drive him to make up for every single moment he’d missed.
the weight of the conversation shifted slowly, and before you even realized it, the words spilled out. you couldn’t stop yourself—you had to ask about her. his fiancée.
he told you her name was soo. they met during his residency, he said, when she helped pull him from the darkest corner of his life—the place where your absence had left him, broken and barely breathing. she was the one who stitched him back together, the one who healed the wound you’d left, a wound that, it seemed, only she could mend.
and yet, even as he spoke, despite the rawness of his confession, he wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty. he didn’t want to hurt you. but the words hung there, thick with unspoken emotions.
then, he showed you the photos. of her. oh god, she was beautiful. radiant, in a way that seemed to glow from within. they looked like they were made for each other, perfectly matched, intertwined in a way you could never hope to be. he spoke of her with awe—how brilliant and kind she was.
and as he spoke, something tugged at the edges of your thoughts. his eyes, usually so bright and full of warmth when he spoke of someone he loved, were different now. softer, distant. the sparkle that once lived there had dimmed, as if the affection he had for her wasn’t as alive as it once had been. you told yourself not to read too much into it, to not dwell on the subtle shift. it had been years. people changed, didn’t they? he wasn’t the same baekhyun you remembered. especially not after everything you had put him through.
it stirred a jealousy in you, sharp and bitter, but deeper than that, it left a dull ache settling in your chest. you longed to be the one he spoke of with such adoration, the one he admired in every way. you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering if he ever spoke about you like that—if he ever felt for you the way he now seemed to feel for her. it burned like poison in your veins, a vile and familiar ache that made you sick to your stomach. you hated it. hated how it made you feel so small, so unimportant. the weight of it made you want to vanish, to slip out of your own skin, anything to escape the suffocating reality of it all. you should be happy for him. happy that he had found someone who could make him feel whole again. but all you could feel was the hollow ache of your own failure to ever be enough.
you tried to smile, tried to hold yourself together, but each compliment, each story, each glowing word about her, hit you like a dagger to the chest. you couldn’t listen anymore. you didn’t want to.
it was too much. before you even realized it, you were standing, your throat tight as you forced the words out. “i... i need to go. um, i have to make dinner…and pick up minji from daycare. i’ll text you. we can figure out a time for you both to meet properly.”
before he could respond, you were out the door, the bells above the café door jingling as you fled.
but you didn’t make it far. a few seconds later, you heard the hurried footsteps behind you, his voice calling out. “bun—fuck, wait! slow down!”
you could feel the tears streaming down your face again, hot and uncontrollable. you wiped them hastily, hoping he didn’t see. but of course, he did. he always did.
“look,” baekhyun began, his voice softer now, tinged with something you couldn’t place. “i never thought i’d hear from you again. and now you just—pop back into my life, on a random friday, with a daughter i had no idea about. i’m sorry if you’re upset that there’s someone else in my life. but please... don’t punish me for finding myself again after you completely destroyed me.”
his words hit harder than anything you could’ve prepared for. your knees felt weak, your heart shattering with every syllable. because it was true. every part of it. you had done this. you’d pushed him away, and now you had no right to feel this way, no right to demand anything.
"baek," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, trembling under the weight of everything you couldn’t say. "you’re right. i don’t have the right to feel this way. i just... when i saw you again, it was like everything came crashing back. all those old feelings—things i thought i’d buried—flooded back in an instant. but i swear, i won’t keep minji from you. i won’t. and... i’m honestly so glad you’ve found happiness. and soo—she... she seems amazing. i can see why you’re with her. and... i’m genuinely looking forward to co-parenting with you both. really."
you swallowed hard, the words like sandpaper against your throat. the lie at the end tasted bitter, clinging to the back of your tongue, but you forced them out anyway. you needed him to believe it. needed him to let you go so you could retreat to the quiet of your own space, where you could curl up and weep in the solitude of your own shame.
his expression softened, though there was something unreadable in his eyes. “hmm…okay.” he reached into his pocket, pulling out your phone. “you left this on the table. and, uh… you promise you’ll stay in contact?”
you nodded quickly, unlocking your phone and typing your name into the message. “you have mine now, too.”
a small relief flashed in his eyes when he saw your name on the screen. he nodded, his voice steady. “thank you. let me know when you’re both ready. we’ll make this work.”
you nodded, your throat tight as you wiped away the last of the tears. you offered him a half-smile, barely managing to hold it together, before turning away. your feet felt heavy as you walked to your car, the silence between you louder than anything.
when you finally arrived home, everything came crashing down at once, a tidal wave that hit you full-force. the weight of everything you’d been holding inside pressed into your chest, suffocating, like your lungs had forgotten how to breathe. you collapsed, body trembling, as sobs wrenched their way through you—soft, guttural cries that seemed to echo in the emptiness of your apartment. tears streamed down your face, thick and relentless, each one heavier than the last, as if they were washing away more than just your sorrow. how had you managed to mess everything up this badly?
the feeling of being lost in your own failure was dizzying, a dark spiral that threatened to swallow you whole.
chanyeol, your next-door neighbor, was more than just a friendly face. he was a single parent too, his daughter nari being the same age as minji. from the moment you’d moved in, the girls had been inseparable—like they were two halves of the same whole, constantly together, sharing everything from toys to whispered secrets. and over time, you and chanyeol had become something more than neighbors. you were lifelines to one another, navigating the chaos of single parenthood side by side. daycare pickups, late-night texts for advice, emergency contact calls—they were moments that built trust, moments that held you both up when the world felt too heavy.
but then there were the other moments. the ones that neither of you had planned, yet they happened all the same.
on nights when the girls had sleepovers, tucked under either your roof or his, the house would fall into an eerie stillness, a quiet so profound it felt almost alien. no toys scattered across the floor, no giggles or whispers. just an empty house, and the faint hum of the world outside. in those moments, the bottle of wine always made its way to the table—deep crimson liquid swirling in your glass, catching the soft light in a way that felt too intimate, too inviting. the scent of it lingered in the air, rich and heady, like a secret waiting to be shared. one glass became two, then three, until the words flowed freely, unguarded.
laughter bubbled between you both, light and carefree, mingling with the quiet sounds of the night. and somewhere, in the subtle space between casual conversation and shared history, something shifted—unspoken, but impossible to ignore. it wasn’t deliberate, not in the beginning, but it was undeniable. a quiet tension hung between you both, the kind that hummed just below the surface, like a chord waiting to be struck.
in the warm, dim light, the lines between friendship and something more began to blur. his lips brushed yours—not quite a kiss, but not exactly innocent either. the taste of wine lingered on his mouth, mingling with something darker, something deeper, something unspoken. your hands—almost of their own accord—found their way to each other, fingers tracing the outline of familiar paths, not quite daring to go any further. the touch was careful, deliberate, like a dance on the edge of something you both knew was dangerous, but too tempting to resist.
each kiss lingered just long enough to leave you wanting more, but never deepened enough to cross the line you both feared. the weight of unspoken rules hung between you, pulling back every time either of you tried to cross the line. clothes were the only barrier between you, a fragile wall that you both clung to, even as the urge to tear it down grew stronger.
but even in the silence, the weight of your unresolved feelings for baekhyun settled heavily in the room, a ghost that neither of you could escape. and chanyeol—he carried his own baggage. the loss of his wife, a wound that had never fully healed, leaving him to raise nari on his own, balancing grief and fatherhood in a way that only he understood. he wasn’t looking for more. not from you. not yet.
the timing was all wrong, the space between you wasn’t yours to claim. but in those rare moments, it felt as if maybe, just maybe, it could have been.
it was never spoken aloud, but you both knew the truth. chanyeol knew you still loved baekhyun, and that truth hung between you like a quiet weight. neither of you disturbed it. the unspoken agreement between you was that your daughters came first, no matter what. whatever might have blossomed between you, if it ever did, had to come naturally, unburdened by guilt or pretense.
but in those moments, when the air between you grew thick with something more, a quiet voice inside you would pull you back. it reminded you of the messy knots still holding your heart in place, the wounds that hadn’t yet healed. you couldn’t move forward—not yet. not while your heart was still tangled with baekhyun.
chanyeol, always the gentleman, never pushed. he was patient, always aware of your needs, always respectful of the boundaries you set. when you needed to talk, he listened; when you needed space, he gave it. but in the quiet of his own heart, he couldn’t help but feel more for you than he allowed himself to admit. how could he not? you were beautiful, strong, and a devoted mother. you embraced nari as your own, and in doing so, you made his heart ache in ways he couldn’t express. even knowing your heart was still tethered to someone else, he couldn’t stop himself from wishing—just for a moment—that maybe, just maybe, one day you’d find your way to him.
he carried that silent ache with the kind of grace only he could muster, never letting it slip, even as it quietly wore at him, just a little more each day.
so when you texted him—asking if he could pick up minji, keeping the explanation vague, not wanting him to worry—he was there. barely ten minutes later, a soft knock at your door echoed through the silence.
when you opened it, his wide eyes met the mess that was you—mascara streaks trailing down your cheeks, a crumpled tissue clenched in your trembling hand. you tried to muster a smile, but it felt paper-thin, your voice weak and brittle. “yeolie? what’s up?”
the words barely left your lips before he froze in place, his expression shifting from confusion to alarm. “a-are you okay? what’s going on? did someone—did something happen? is minji okay? are you sick? do you need me to take you to the hospital?” his voice cracked, the flood of questions spilling out in rapid succession, his panic tangible.
you stepped aside, pulling the door open wider, silently inviting him in. he didn’t hesitate, stepping through, his gaze glued to yours like he was searching for answers in your tear-stained face.
he trailed behind you to the couch, his presence steady and grounding as you collapsed onto the cushions, tears streaming freely. through shaky breaths, you unraveled the tangled mess of your day—the awkward reunion, the jumbled emotions, the weight of everything that seemed to be crumbling all at once. you didn’t dare admit the jealousy clawing at your chest, the hollow ache that filled you when baekhyun spoke about his fiancée with such love. that part you kept tucked away, too raw, too humiliating to expose.
chanyeol sat beside you, his towering frame a comforting shadow as he listened. really listened. his hand moved in soothing circles along your back, a silent reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere.
your words poured out, no longer confined to just the events of the day but expanding into everything—the years that had passed, the guilt that had burrowed deep and refused to let go. every regret, every misstep, every weight you’d carried alone spilled out in a torrent of tears and confessions. and chanyeol just sat there, unwavering, holding space for you in the way only a true friend could.
“hey,” he began, his voice soft yet steady, as if anchoring you in the storm of your own thoughts. that signature dimpled smile appeared, warm and reassuring, carrying a kindness that made your chest tighten. “no one’s perfect,” he said, his gaze locking with yours, as though he could see the weight of your regret. “it’s okay to have moments you wish you could take back. you don’t need to have it all figured out right now—just take it one step at a time, yeah? what matters is where you go from here, and i know you’ll choose the right path.”
his hand brushed against yours, grounding you further. “no matter what, nari and i will always be here. for you and minji. you’re not in this alone.”
you swallowed hard, his words cutting through the mess of emotions tangled in your chest. the sincerity in his voice, the unwavering warmth in his eyes—it was almost too much. you nodded slowly, blinking back the tears threatening to spill.
“thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you knew he heard it. “i don’t even know if i deserve this kind of support... but it means everything. truly.”
your fingers fidgeted with the edge of your sleeve, the weight of his reassurance settling over you like a safety net. the corner of your lips lifted into the faintest smile, a flicker of gratitude breaking through your doubt. “and…thank you, yeollie. for always being here for us.”
he pulled you into a hug, the kind only chanyeol could give—one that made you feel like you were wrapped in the coziest, softest blanket on the coldest day. his size alone made it impossible not to feel safe, like he could shield you from the entire world.
"stay put," he murmured, his voice low and soothing against your hair. "i’ll go pick up the girls. how about we pick up a pizza on the way home? maybe a bottle of wine to go with it?"
you couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up, the weight on your chest lifting just enough to let it out. "yeah... i’d like that. thanks, yeol."
he grinned as he stood, his steps sure and familiar as he moved to the fridge. the sound of the door opening and bottles clinking against each other filled the room. when he returned, he handed you one of the water bottles, twisting the cap off for you with ease.
"drink up," he said, flicking a finger gently under your chin to tilt your head up, a playful glint in his eyes. "don’t need you passing out on me from dehydration."
his teasing tone, coupled with the affection in his gesture, made your heart feel a little lighter. you took the bottle from him, your fingers brushing his briefly, and for the first time all day, you felt a spark of comfort.
later that night, minji lay tucked beneath her soft quilt, her favorite bunny held close to her chest. the warm glow of the nightlight painted her face in soft hues, the shadows dancing gently across her room like a lullaby. you leaned over her small form, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "i love you," you whispered, your voice a soothing murmur. "sleep tight, bun."
as your hand hovered over the light switch, her voice stopped you in your tracks, delicate yet filled with curiosity. "hey, mommy," she called, her tone innocent and thoughtful. "why does that doctor from earlier call you that, too?"
the question struck a chord deep within you, freezing you for a moment as your heart stumbled over itself. turning back toward her, you forced a smile, smoothing the sudden tension coiling in your chest. walking slowly to her bedside, you perched at the edge, meeting her wide, trusting eyes. "well," you started softly, your voice steady despite the fluttering unease within. "like dr. byun said, he's a really good friend of mine. that’s where i got your nickname, too."
her face lit up, her small smile so pure it made your heart ache. she nodded slowly, processing your words in that way only children can, her gaze thoughtful yet brimming with trust. "he was nice," she said, her tone sweet and certain. "i really liked him."
"yeah?" you asked, crouching down so your eyes were level with hers, the warmth of her sincerity wrapping around you like a blanket. her simple joy tugged at something tender within you. "would you like to see him again?"
her smile widened, blooming like the sun breaking through clouds. excitement sparkled in her eyes, her whole face lighting up in a way that mirrored her love for ice cream on hot afternoons. she nodded vigorously, her enthusiasm bubbling over.
"uh-huh!" she chirped, her joy infectious, spreading a flicker of warmth through your own heart.
you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound soft and full of love. "okay, bunny," you said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, your voice tender. "sleep tight, 'kay?" you pressed another soft kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment, before turning off the light. the door clicked shut softly behind you.
standing in the hallway, your back against the cool wall, you let out a long, shaky breath, the weight of the day settling heavily in your chest. the silence was broken by a ping from your phone, pulling you out of your thoughts. you stared at the screen, the light illuminating your face as a new message appeared.
baekhyun:
thank you for today. let’s talk soon about how we move forward—together.
your chest tightened, the words settling over you like a heavy blanket. this was the beginning of something you hadn’t seen coming, something that made your pulse race with equal parts fear and exhilaration.
you responded quickly, almost without thinking:
you free tomorrow to go over details?
the path ahead was a little scary and clouded with uncertainty, but one thing was for sure: baekhyun was here, and he wasn’t going anywhere.
baekhyun and minji bonded quicker than you ever imagined. their first playdate was a sunny afternoon at the park, where baekhyun seemed completely absorbed in her. every giggle, every burst of energy as she dashed between slides and swings, every scrunched-nose smile lit up his face. it was as if he was trying to memorize every little detail about her, committing her essence to memory. minji, ever the social butterfly, welcomed him without hesitation—just as she did her classmates, her teachers, and even chanyeol.
chanyeol.
his name slipped into your thoughts uninvited, a shadow that tugged at your focus. why were you thinking about him now? you blinked hard, shaking the thought away. the last thing you needed was to let another layer of complication invade your already chaotic emotions.
then came that afternoon. baekhyun had come to drop minji off at your place, the usual familiarity of the moment interrupted by the unexpected. when the door swung open, it wasn’t you standing there—it was chanyeol.
“baekhyun, right?” chanyeol greeted him warmly, his easy smile bright enough to momentarily disarm. his dimple pressed deep into his cheek, as if it was carved there just for moments like this. snapping his fingers in playful recognition, he added, “i’ve heard so much about you.” he gestured casually over his shoulder, as if to invite baekhyun in. “i’m chanyeol. and that’s nari over there.”
baekhyun froze, the weight of the moment pressing down on him like an invisible force. for a split second, his expression faltered, eyes flickering to the cheerful little girl in the background, her laughter filling the air. then, his gaze shifted back to chanyeol, studying him with a quiet intensity. there was something unspoken in the air between them, subtle yet impossible to ignore—a tension that lingered like a low hum.
his eyes darted past chanyeol, chest tightening as they landed on you. you were seated on the floor, cross-legged, a radiant smile stretching across your face as you and nari played with minji’s toys. the sound of your laughter, bright and unguarded, hit him square in the chest, stirring something raw and vulnerable deep inside him. you looked so at ease, as if the joy spilling from you was effortless, untouched by the weight of the past.
“hi, chanyeol!” minji’s voice rang out, cutting through the fog of his thoughts. her tiny arms stretched toward the tall man, her excitement spilling over in a cheerful squeal.
chanyeol didn’t hesitate, scooping her up with the ease of someone who’d done it a hundred times before. “i missed you!” minji giggled, wrapping her small arms tightly around his neck.
“i missed you too, bun,” chanyeol replied with a wide grin, holding her close.
baekhyun’s stomach twisted, the word hitting him like a slap. bun. his nickname for her. no—their nickname. a sharp possessiveness surged through him, hot and consuming. did chanyeol call you that too? the thought crept in like a poison, making his jaw tighten. it was irrational, and yet it burned, carving out a hollow ache in his chest.
you stood then, walking toward them, your smile warm and glowing like the softest light. chanyeol still had minji perched on his hip, cradling her as if she were his own. he leaned in, planting an exaggerated, playful kiss on her cheek, earning a burst of delighted giggles from her.
the sound, the sight of it all—your ease, minji’s trust, chanyeol’s familiarity—brought baekhyun to the edge. his chest tightened, his breathing shallow, and for a brief, unsteady moment, he felt like he might collapse under the weight of it. the life he wanted was right in front of him, his life, and yet, it felt just out of reach.
“i missed you, bunny,” you murmured, your fingers tenderly brushing through her soft, dark hair. minji tilted her head up to you, her eyes glittering like tiny stars. then she turned to him, her small hand waving eagerly. “bye, baekhyun!” she chirped, her voice bright and pure, her little toothy grin so heartbreakingly innocent it nearly brought him to his knees.
baekhyun’s chest tightened, the pressure unbearable. how could something so sweet hurt so much?
you stepped closer, and for a fleeting moment, baekhyun forgot how to breathe. your smile was warm, easy, and devastatingly familiar—a smile that used to be his. it softened the tension hanging in the air, but to him, it cut deeper than any blade.
“thanks for picking her up from daycare,” you said, your voice gentle, almost apologetic. the sincerity in your tone slipped past every defense he’d tried to build since that day you walked back into his life. “did you wanna come inside for a bit? we usually do taco tuesdays with chanyeol and nari. you’re more than welcome to join us.”
your words were casual, but the invitation felt anything but. “i think it’d be great, actually,” you added, your voice bright with optimism. “since chanyeol’s been in minji’s life for a little over a year now.”
the floor seemed to tilt beneath him. his body stiffened, and a violent twist gripped his heart. chanyeol. a year. the words echoed mercilessly in his mind, louder and louder until they drowned out everything else. he wanted to tell you no, to scream it, to tell you he’d rather rip his chest open and claw his heart out than walk into that house and see the life you were building without him. a life that looked so perfect. a life where he was nothing but a footnote.
instead, he forced a smile—thin, hollow, the kind of smile that only deepened the cracks in his façade. it was nothing more than a mask, a feeble attempt to conceal the storm raging beneath his skin. “i’m actually in a hurry,” he said, the words stiff and unnatural as they stumbled off his tongue. “gotta get to the clinic.”
a lie, plain and simple. it came too easily, slipping past his lips like second nature. the instant it escaped, he felt the sick churn of regret twisting in his stomach, his voice betraying him with a clipped edge he couldn’t quite hide.
your head tilted slightly, confusion flickering across your face like a shadow. “didn’t you guys already close for the day?” you asked, your brows knitting together in that subtle way that always made his chest ache. “it’s past six.”
his pulse stuttered, a silent curse tumbling through his mind as he fumbled for an answer that wouldn’t shatter the fragile distance he was desperately clinging to. but nothing came. nothing convincing enough. nothing that didn’t feel like quicksand.
his feet shifted instinctively, retreating before his resolve could crumble further. “charts and prescriptions and... you know, stuff,” he mumbled, taking an awkward step back. “i’ll see you later.”
before you could say another word, he turned, walking briskly toward his car. his steps were measured, his pride refusing to let him break into a full-on sprint, even as his heart hammered like a war drum. every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of his lie and your confusion pressing down on him like a vice.
he didn’t dare look back. if he did, he knew he wouldn’t have the strength to keep going.
from behind him, minji’s giggles rang out like music, the sound breaking through the thickness in the air. you were pressing playful kisses to her cheeks, your exaggerated smooches sending her into a fit of laughter.
it was almost too much. the scene—the two of you together, so natural, so perfect—made his knees weak. he gripped the handle of his car door and paused, his chest heaving as he fought the urge to look back. to stay.
but he didn’t. he slid into the driver’s seat and pulled away, leaving behind the ache that followed him everywhere you and minji weren’t.
as baekhyun drove away, his grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned a stark white. the image of you standing there with chanyeol and the two girls—your girls—seared into his mind, an indelible mark he couldn’t shake. you looked like a perfect family, like something pulled straight out of a dream. but for baekhyun, it was nothing short of a nightmare.
every mile he put between himself and your door pressed harder on the ache in his chest. his thoughts roared louder than the hum of the engine, drowning out everything but one relentless truth: that should’ve been me.
he couldn’t keep doing this—living in the fragile shell of a life that barely held him together. pretending he was fine without you, without minji. pretending that every day apart wasn’t hollow, wasn’t agony. each moment away from the two of you felt like a wound he couldn’t heal, the kind that gnawed at him constantly, leaving him restless and raw.
he dragged a trembling hand through his hair as the silence around him became unbearable. pacing the length of his living room later that night, his mind was still trapped back at your doorstep. he could hear your laugh echoing in his ears, the way it always lit up every corner of his world. the memory of your voice, soft and full of meaning, saying his name. minji’s tiny hands gripping his, her trust as effortless as her love. every memory sharpened the longing, the undeniable knowledge that you were his. you always had been. and yet, here he was—stuck in a life that felt like it belonged to someone else.
it wasn’t fair. not to him. not to you. and certainly not to her. the woman waiting for him at home, wearing the ring he had slipped onto her finger when he was too weak to face the truth. she deserved more. she deserved better. she deserved a man who wasn’t haunted by another woman’s smile, another child’s laughter.
his fists clenched at his sides as the weight of his choices bore down on him. guilt dug into him like a blade, twisting with every second. and yet, beneath it all, one truth burned brighter than anything else: he needed you. he needed you and minji, your warmth, your chaos, the life you had created without him.
he could feel it unraveling, the lie he was clinging to. every passing day stretched it thinner, threatening to snap. and when it did, he wasn’t sure what would be left of him—only that it wouldn’t be enough without you.
after a few more park playdates, you invited baekhyun over for dinner. when he arrived, he held two bouquets—one vibrant and blooming for you, and a smaller, delicate arrangement for minji.
minji’s face lit up as she clutched her flowers, her excitement spilling over as she helped baekhyun carefully arrange them in vases. you watched from the kitchen, your hands busy with dinner but your heart quietly swelling at the sight of them together.
dinner came and went in a blur of laughter and easy conversation. afterward, baekhyun insisted on helping clean up, minji trailing behind him like his little shadow. yet through it all, you couldn’t ignore the way his gaze lingered on you—soft, almost yearning. and every time you caught him, he’d quickly look away, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink.
you tried to brush it off, convincing yourself it was nothing. that the bouquet meant nothing. but your heart betrayed you, skipping a beat every time your eyes met. your cheeks warmed under his gaze, though you told yourself it was absurd. he’s engaged, you reminded yourself firmly. he’s in love with someone else. it’s not you anymore. it hasn’t been for years.
later, baekhyun offered to get minji ready for bed, his enthusiasm lighting up the room. he approached each part of her bedtime routine with such care—a playful splash during her bath, patient encouragement as she brushed her teeth, and a warm smile as he read her a bedtime story.
you stood in the hallway, listening to her giggles and his gentle voice, your chest tightening with a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite name.
you walked back to the kitchen, the soft hum of the house wrapping around you as you reached for the wine bottle. the deep red liquid swirled as you poured it into two glasses, the rich aroma curling in the air. baekhyun had worked magic tonight, easing a rowdy toddler into sleep as if it were the simplest thing in the world. the image of him tucking minji in still lingered in your mind—a quiet smile on his face, his touch gentle but sure.
you thought about all the time you and minji had been spending with baekhyun lately felt like something out of a dream. it was everything you’d ever wished for but never thought you’d have. he slipped so seamlessly into her world, as if he’d always been there. their bond was undeniable—tickle fights that left her squealing with laughter, quiet moments where she leaned into him with absolute trust. watching them together only deepened the ache in your chest, the one that whispered how foolish you’d been to keep her from him for so long.
you told him as much one late afternoon, after a long stroll through the park. minji had fallen asleep in his arms, her little body spent from an afternoon of running through the playground while he chased her, pretending to be some silly monster. her tiny cheek squished against his shoulder, her breath soft and steady as she drooled onto his jacket. the two of you had laughed quietly, careful not to wake her.
“guess she’s making up for all the times it was you she drooled on instead,” he teased with a smirk, his voice warm and low.
it was in that fragile, golden moment that the words you’d been holding back tumbled out. “baekhyun, i... i’ve been feeling so awful. i’m not saying this for pity, i just—every time i see you with her, the guilt claws at me. i can’t believe i kept her from you for so long…i’m so sorry.”
your voice cracked, and then there were tears—hot, stinging, relentless.
baekhyun stopped in his tracks, his steps crunching against the gravel path as he gently grabbed your arm. his touch was firm but steady, grounding. he turned you to face him, his gaze steady, unwavering.
“hey,” he said softly, his voice pulling you out of your spiral. “what matters is now. and the future. i trust you, and i know you won’t keep her from me again. i’ve forgiven you... but maybe it’s time you forgave yourself.”
his words settled over you like a balm, soothing and unyielding, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight of your guilt began to feel a little lighter.
you’re pulled from your thoughts by the soft click of her bedroom door, the quiet shuffle of baekhyun’s steps filling the silence as he makes his way toward you. you know the sound of his walk so well, even after all these years. it’s comforting, familiar—the same measured rhythm, the same ease. in so many ways, he hasn’t changed. his laugh, his warm personality, the way his eyes crinkle into crescent moons when he smiles.
“she’s out,” he announces from the hallway, his voice soft but tinged with satisfaction as he spots you at the dining table.
you hand him the glass of wine you’d poured moments before, holding it out like a peace offering. “this is for all your hard work,” you tease, a light grin tugging at your lips.
he chuckles, the sound low and warm as he takes the glass from your hand, his fingers grazing yours for a fleeting second. the touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, unexpected but unmistakable, and you quickly avert your gaze, staring down at the table like it holds all the answers.
he settles into the chair beside you, close enough that you can feel the faint warmth radiating from him. you sip your wine, trying to steady yourself, before speaking. “so... have you and soo talked about setting up a time to meet her?”
his face shifts at the mention of her name. the change is subtle but telling—a flicker of discomfort, the kind you can’t unsee once you notice it.
“yeah,” he says after a pause, his fingers fidgeting with the stem of the wine glass. he takes a sip before continuing, his tone quieter now. “i actually wanted to talk to you about her.”
your heart sinks, unease settling in your chest like a stone. “oh?” you ask, cautious. “is everything okay?”
the worst thoughts swirl in your mind, a storm of possibilities. maybe she doesn’t want baekhyun spending time with minji. maybe she’s uncomfortable with you being part of the equation.
he exhales sharply, his thumb brushing against the rim of the glass. “yeah... i mean, i guess.” there’s a pause, a weight to his words that makes you hold your breath. “the engagement’s been called off.” his voice is steady, almost too steady, as if rehearsed.
your jaw drops before you can stop it. the shock is written all over your face, and baekhyun winces at your reaction, his gaze darting away. you quickly compose yourself, snapping your mouth shut as heat rises to your cheeks. “what happened?” you blurt, the words spilling out before you can think twice. “you seemed... so happy.”
your voice falters, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve overstepped. the weight of your question lingers between you, heavy and unspoken, and you brace yourself for whatever comes next.
“i was. or... at least, i thought i was,” he says, his voice low and almost hesitant, as if he’s afraid to admit it even to himself. his hand moves to his hair, ruffling it in that familiar way he always did when the weight of his thoughts pressed too hard on him. a reflex, a habit you never forgot.
“and then you walked back into my life.” his voice is quiet, but there’s a rawness to it, like he’s pulling the words straight from the deepest part of him. your breath hitches, the air between you growing unbearably still as his gaze locks onto yours. there’s something in his eyes—something aching, desperate, like he’s trying to hold himself together while unraveling all at once.
“with her,” he continues, his voice breaking just enough to make your chest tighten, “this little girl who’s... everything. everything i didn’t know i was missing. she’s you and me, all tangled up in the most perfect way.” he swallows hard, his jaw clenching as though he’s fighting to steady himself. “and suddenly, nothing else makes sense anymore. not without you. not without her.”
the moment those words left his lips, the air seemed to shift. everything stilled—the hum of the world faded into silence, leaving only the thunderous echo of your heartbeat in your ears. had he really said that? the words hung between you, raw and unguarded, threatening to unravel everything you thought you understood.
his eyes searched yours, hesitant but resolute, as if willing you to see the truth in his gaze. when he spoke again, his voice softened, carrying a weight that made your breath hitch. “and the more time i spent with you both... the more i realized you’re what i want. you and minji. you’re what i really want in my life.”
his confession hit you with the force of a tidal wave, knocking the air from your lungs. you felt the ground tilt beneath you, the walls you’d carefully built around your heart quaking under the pressure of his words.
“baekhyun…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your chest tightening as you forced yourself to ask, “are you… are you serious?”
but you already knew the answer. you could see it, clear as day, in the way his gaze didn’t waver.
“we can take our time… start slow,” baekhyun exhales, his voice carrying the weight of his confession as if it had been lodged in his chest for years. the vulnerability in his tone is raw, unguarded, and it almost makes you forget to breathe. “i mean… if that’s what you want, too.”
his words trail off, and for a moment, his usual confidence falters. a quiet doubt creeps into his thoughts—what if you’ve moved on? what if you don’t want this? the possibility churns in his mind, making him feel smaller, suddenly unsure.
“sorry,” he blurts out, shaking his head, gaze dropping to the floor. “i shouldn’t have said that—”
“no,” you interrupt, your voice firm but gentle, grounding him. your hand finds his, your fingers curling around his in a touch that feels achingly familiar, as though no time has passed. the warmth of his skin against yours sends a spark racing through your veins, a reassurance you didn’t realize you both needed.
he looks up, his eyes wide with hesitation, and you hold his gaze. “i’d… actually like that,” you admit, your voice softer now, a smile tugging at your lips. “start slow and see where we go.”
his shoulders visibly relax, and the faintest glimmer of hope flickers in his eyes. he squeezes your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, and for the first time in a long time, it feels like the two of you are stepping into something whole and unbroken.
two weeks later, you stood in front of your closet, the door wide open and a growing pile of discarded clothes spilling onto the floor.
you were getting ready for a date.
with baekhyun.
your first date as parents.
the thought made your stomach flip with nerves and excitement. it felt surreal, almost like stepping into a story you didn’t dare dream for yourself. but as much as the idea of this new beginning thrilled you, the reality of your wardrobe—or lack thereof—was starting to feel like a nightmare.
minji was spending the evening with chanyeol and nari, her overnight bag already packed and slung over chanyeol’s shoulder when he came to pick her up. you couldn’t miss the way his expression shifted when you told him the reason for the favor, his smile faltering for the briefest second.
“it’s just dinner,” you’d explained softly. “we’re taking things slow, seeing where it goes.”
chanyeol had nodded, his lips pressing into a tight line. he couldn’t quite mask the pain in his eyes, though he tried.
“of course,” he’d said eventually, his voice steady despite the storm you could feel brewing beneath. “you know i’m always here for you…and minji.”
because that was just who chanyeol was—a steady, selfless anchor, even when it hurt.
now, as you tore through hangers and drawers, you glanced at your phone, a spike of panic shooting through you. less than two hours. how had the time slipped away so fast?
you groaned, flopping onto your bed as you stared at the heap of options that just weren’t right. nothing screamed ‘first date with the father of your child.’ nothing said ‘i’m nervous but excited and maybe a little terrified but i also want to look stunning.’
baekhyun.
you imagined the moment baekhyun would arrive, the image of him clear in your mind as if he were already standing at your door. he’d look effortlessly polished, the way only he could manage—like he’d stepped out of a magazine without even trying. his shirt would probably hug his lean frame just right, the soft fabric teasing at the lines of his shoulders and chest. his hair, always perfectly imperfect, would fall into place with a casualness that made you suspect he’d only run his fingers through it once before heading out.
and then there were his eyes—those warm, honeyed depths that had a way of making the world feel quieter, smaller. they carried a quiet determination now, a depth that hadn’t always been there, like the years apart had reshaped him, sharpened his focus. you could almost see the subtle tilt of his lips when he caught sight of you, a smile that wasn’t overly practiced but natural, like it belonged there because you did.
he never needed much time to get ready, and yet he always looked like he did. that was the thing about baekhyun—everything about him was easy, seamless, like he existed in his own effortless rhythm. it wasn’t about the clothes he chose or the way he styled his hair; it was about the energy he carried, the quiet confidence that drew people in.
and tonight, he’d be coming to pick you up—not just as the baekhyun you’d known before, but as someone determined to start fresh, someone who wanted to show you that maybe, just maybe, this could really work out.
you exhaled deeply, steadying yourself as you slid off the bed. pull it together, you thought, brushing your curled hair out of your face. tonight wasn’t just another evening—it felt like the start of something new, something tentative and hopeful, and you wanted to look the part. not just for baekhyun, but for yourself. you wanted to feel like the best version of you—the woman you were before, and the woman you were becoming.
your eyes drifted toward the top of your closet, where an old, forgotten box rested among stacks of seasonal items and spare blankets. a spark of hope flickered. you vaguely remembered stuffing your pre-pregnancy clothes up there, unable to let them go but convinced they might never fit again. now, that box felt like a treasure chest waiting to be rediscovered.
grabbing a step ladder, you climbed carefully, brushing the thick layer of dust from the box’s lid before tugging it down. a cloud of nostalgia seemed to escape as you peeled it open. there they were—rows of fabrics, textures, and memories you hadn’t touched in years. silky blouses, form-fitting dresses, sleek skirts... all the outfits you used to wear when going out felt like a second skin.
you sifted through them, piece by piece, fingers grazing over familiar fabrics as your heart swelled with a mix of apprehension and excitement. you pulled out a sleek dress, holding it up against yourself in the mirror. to your delight—and a little disbelief—it still fit, hugging your post-pregnancy curves in ways that made you feel both proud and beautiful.
you were finishing the last touches on your hair and makeup when the doorbell rang, slicing through the air like a sudden jolt. a flutter of butterflies stirred in your stomach, their wings beating furiously as nerves surged through you all at once. instinctively, you reached for your perfume, spritzing it lightly over your neck, the familiar scent wrapping around you like a soft, comforting embrace.
you took a long, steadying breath, eyes tracing your reflection in the mirror, checking every detail—the delicate curve of your lashes, the soft glow of your skin, the way your lips curved just right. you stepped back, allowing yourself a moment to really see the woman in front of you. had it really been so long since you dressed up like this? for anyone? the question lingered in the air.
and then it hit you, clear as day. it had been since baekhyun. a quiet chuckle escaped your lips as you shook your head, bemused by the realization. there was something about tonight that felt different, something about this moment, this new chapter, that made everything feel... significant.
with a final glance at your reflection, you straightened up, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. you walked toward the door, each step a little more deliberate, a little more full of purpose. this wasn’t just a date. this was something else entirely.
when the door swung open and baekhyun saw you, his breath hitched, the air suddenly too thick to pull into his lungs. his gaze swept over you, deliberate and slow, as if his mind needed time to register every curve, every detail, every shimmer of the fabric that clung to you. his heart thundered in his chest, a wild rhythm he couldn’t control, and for a moment, all he could do was stare.
you were devastating. the dress—that dress—hugged you perfectly, its soft sheen catching the dim hallway light, every subtle movement making it seem alive, as though it had been designed for this exact moment. it was the same one you’d worn before, in a memory he kept locked away for years. back then, you’d twirled in front of him, laughing, your joy so infectious it had carved itself into his soul. seeing it again now, seeing you now, was almost too much.
but this wasn’t just a walk down memory lane. this wasn’t then. everything was different now—he was different, you were different. yet, somehow, that pull between you felt as raw and undeniable as it had the first time he’d laid eyes on you.
except now, you weren’t just the girl he’d loved with everything in him, the girl he’d lost, the girl he thought he’d never have again. you were minji’s mother. his daughter’s mother. and seeing you like this—so stunning it almost hurt—sent a new kind of longing through him. it wasn’t just want, though god, he wanted you. it was need, aching and all-consuming, a yearning that went far beyond physical desire. he needed to prove himself, to prove that he could be more for you, for minji. that this time, he wouldn’t let you slip away.
his hands twitched at his sides, desperate to reach for you, to touch, to hold, to pull you close enough to feel the warmth of your body against his. the temptation was staggering, nearly unbearable. his mind flickered with flashes of all the ways he wanted you—how it would feel to bury his face in your neck, to whisper promises against your skin, to hear you say his name like you used to.
but he held himself back, swallowing hard, locking it all down. not now. he couldn’t rush this. he couldn’t risk ruining it.
when his eyes met yours, his lips curved into the softest of smiles, one that didn’t quite mask the storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface. “you…” he paused, his voice catching before he found it again. “you look incredible.” the words came out low, steady, but there was no mistaking the weight behind them.
for a brief second, his eyes dropped back to the dress, his mind betraying him with an image of it lying forgotten on the floor, of you in his arms, of everything he was fighting to keep at bay. the thought made his chest tighten, and he let out a soft chuckle, as if to diffuse the tension he felt coiled so tightly within him.
but he didn’t move. not yet. instead, he let the moment stretch, imagining the day when he wouldn’t have to hold back, when he wouldn’t have to hesitate. when he could love you the way he wanted to—completely, without fear, without doubt, without restraint.
after dinner, the two of you strolled back to your place, the night humming with the warmth of shared laughter and lingering glances. the soft glow of streetlights cast a golden sheen over everything, making the world feel dreamlike, almost suspended in time. the wine coursing through your veins made the air lighter, the edges of reality softer, as though nothing truly mattered except the man walking beside you.
when you reached the door, your fingers fumbled with the keys, the metal slipping awkwardly in your grasp. you giggled, a sound so sweet it made baekhyun’s chest tighten. he stood behind you, his presence warm and steady, his hands gently finding their way to your waist. his touch was light, but it burned in the most delicious way.
“need a hand?” he asked, his voice low, teasing, his breath grazing your ear as he leaned closer.
you turned your head just slightly, your smile playful. “please,” you murmured, trying—and failing—to mask the way his closeness made your pulse quicken.
together, you managed to coax the door open, his hand guiding yours with a deliberate slowness that made you shiver. once inside, he closed the door behind him with a quiet click, the sound reverberating through the stillness of the space.
“nightcap?” you asked, your tone casual, though the mischief in your eyes betrayed you. your cheeks were warm, not just from the wine but from the way his gaze lingered, heavy and intent.
baekhyun didn’t answer right away. his eyes stayed locked on you, tracing the curve of your cheek, the way your lips curled into that familiar, teasing grin. his gaze dipped lower, lingering on the dress that clung to you like a second skin. that dress. the one he couldn’t stop thinking about all night, the one he wanted to peel off you with his teeth.
he swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he fought to keep himself in check. the air between you thickened, crackling with an unspoken tension. he took a slow, deliberate step closer, the movement barely noticeable, but the way his eyes darkened said everything his lips couldn’t.
“yeah,” he finally murmured, his voice low, rough around the edges. “a nightcap sounds good.”
but it wasn’t the drink he wanted. no, the only thing he wanted was standing right in front of him, flushed and radiant, looking at him with eyes that could undo him in a heartbeat. every instinct screamed at him to close the space, to kiss you breathless, to pull you into him and never let go. but he didn’t. not yet. he was holding onto a thread of control, as thin and fragile as the air between you.
for now, he could wait. but god, you were making it impossible.
he could barely hold himself together, his self-control stretched thinner with each passing second. honestly, he deserved an award—no, a damn medal—for the composure he managed to keep throughout dinner. every moment was its own quiet war, every glance from you a calculated blow, every soft laugh a fatal shot to his already fragile defenses. your presence was a sweet, maddening intoxication, pulling him under in waves he couldn’t escape.
the way you looked at him—those eyes full of something gentle, something tender, something that felt like home—was almost his undoing. his fingers curled tightly against his thighs, his knuckles blanching as he fought the urge to reach for you. your smile, radiant and unguarded, had him aching in ways he thought he’d forgotten, stirring something raw and desperate in the pit of his stomach. and your voice—god, your voice—danced through the air, warm and melodic, like the first song he’d ever loved.
and then there were those moments when you looked at him, really looked at him. it was in the softness of your gaze, the way it lingered a second too long, the way it stripped him bare without a single word. it was as if you still saw him—truly saw him—the way you used to, back when you were his. that look, full of unspoken truths, clung to him like an echo, whispering things he didn’t dare hope for. you still love me. you still love me. the thought struck like lightning, leaving him dazed and breathless, his pulse thundering in his ears.
his chest tightened with the weight of it all—the yearning, the disbelief, the sheer impossibility of the moment. it was as though everything that had gone wrong, all the time that had stretched between you, suddenly dissolved, rendered meaningless in the face of this. it was just the two of you now, the world fading into a blurry background, holding its breath as if waiting for him to do what every fiber of his being screamed for: close the distance.
the need was relentless, searing through him like fire. his fingers twitched with the urge to touch you, to cradle your face in his hands and trace the contours of your cheek, to see if your skin still felt as soft as he remembered. his lips burned with the craving to kiss you, to taste the laughter that had tormented him all night, to claim the love he had been starving for since the day you walked away.
it had been almost four agonizing years since you left him behind, taking the light of his world with you. he thought he’d buried the pain, that he’d learned to live with the emptiness you left. but now, here you were, so close he could hear the rhythm of your breaths, feel the warmth radiating from your skin. and he realized with a clarity that stole the air from his lungs: none of that pain mattered anymore. not the silence, not the heartbreak, not the years. all that mattered was you—here, now, in front of him.
his breath hitched at the thought, and he found himself imagining what it would feel like when he finally kissed you again. his lips hovering just inches from yours, the space between you crackling with tension. he could already feel the pull, that same magnetic connection that had always been there, waiting for the moment he could touch you. and when their lips finally met, he knew—he knew—it would be just like before. that same sweetness, that same softness, the curve of your lips fitting perfectly against his, like you were always meant to belong to him.
no one had ever kissed him the way you did. no one else had ever left him breathless, drowning in the intensity of it, as if your kiss had the power to remake him. and god, he wanted it again. needed it.
he wanted you, wanted you so badly, the need pooling in his chest, a hot, tight ache he couldn’t ignore. he could already taste you, feel the warmth of your lips beneath his. he remembered how your kiss had once made him feel weightless, like he was falling into something beautiful, intoxicating. it was all he’d thought about the entire night.
and the way you looked now, that dress clinging to you like it had all those years ago, just made him ache even more. he couldn’t stop the images running through his mind—ripping it off of you, feeling your body pressed against his, tasting the sweetness of your kiss once again, just like he had done so many times before. the desire to feel you underneath him, to bury himself in the softness of you, was almost unbearable. he wanted it. he wanted you.
but instead, he nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “yeah,” he breathed, his voice thick with barely contained longing, “yeah, a nightcap sounds good.”
his fingers twitched, wanting nothing more than to touch you, but he held himself back, feeling the heat rise between you both, a tension so thick it was almost unbearable.
"here, let me pour the drinks for us," he murmured, his voice low and steady as he took your jacket and purse, hanging them with a quiet care on the coat rack.
you raised an eyebrow, teasing, "oh?" the corners of your lips twitched, fighting back a smile as you bit your bottom lip. your lashes fluttered lightly, casting delicate shadows across your cheeks as you met his gaze. "i’m just getting spoiled tonight, aren’t i?" you teased, the memory of how he'd practically wrestled the check from your hands earlier still fresh in your mind. it made you laugh softly, a sound that seemed to melt into the air.
but before you could say anything more, he was there, his hand coming up instinctively to cup your cheek. the warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, his thumb brushing lightly against the softness of your skin, tracing the curve of your cheek, your chin, and finally resting just below your lower lip. his touch was so gentle, so deliberate, and yet it stirred something deeper inside you—a quiet yearning that you were both trying to contain.
you met his eyes, searching his face, knowing the unspoken truth before he even voiced it. you could see it—the way his gaze lingered, the way his breath hitched just slightly as he studied you. he wanted to kiss you. you could feel the tension rising, thick and palpable between you, but still, he held back, the weight of restraint pressing on him.
not wanting to push him, you offered him a sweet, reassuring smile, the kind that spoke of understanding without words. the sight of it seemed to stop him in his tracks, and his heart skipped a beat, his breath catching in his throat.
baekhyun’s lips curved into a playful smirk. “spoiled?” he echoed, leaning in just slightly, enough for his voice to drop a fraction, rich and smooth. “c’mon, bun, i’m sure you remember what me spoiling you really looks like.”
his words hit like a soft nudge to a locked door, memories rushing in before you could stop them. you remembered the way he used to spoil you relentlessly back in college, how his love language seemed to be written in lavish gifts and thoughtful gestures. designer handbags you could never justify buying for yourself, delicate jewelry that always seemed to match the sparkle in his eyes when he fastened the clasps himself.
he’d surprise you with new outfits for events you didn’t even know you’d be attending until he planned them—your wardrobe practically transformed by his generosity. every time the newest iphone dropped, he’d make sure it was in your hands within days, complete with a customized case he knew you’d love. he’d slip his card to waiters or store clerks before you could even think to pay.
and then there were the practical things, like covering your car payments or arranging maintenance before you even realized you needed it, his way of taking care of you without ever making you feel small for it. he never wanted you to stress, and you’d laugh at the absurdity of it all while secretly melting at the way he seemed to know what you needed before you did.
baekhyun had money. plenty of it. his family’s wealth wasn’t something he flaunted, but it was there, shaping the way he provided for you. your family wasn’t poor, but you didn’t have the same financial ease. you worked hard for the things you had, but baekhyun never made you feel less than, never made you uncomfortable about it. his quiet humility and the way he never flaunted his wealth made it all feel normal—money was never the issue. it was always about the love you shared.
you swallowed hard, heat creeping up your neck as you met his gaze again. his eyes were on you now, softer but still teasing, as if he could tell exactly where your thoughts had gone. “besides” he murmured, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “i’m just making up for lost time. can you blame me?”
one glass turned into two, then three, each sip loosening the tension in the air, but also building something new between you, something heady and electric. laughter spilled from your lips, the sound light and careless, but underneath it, a growing warmth that neither of you could ignore. the night seemed to blur around the edges, the wine clouding your thoughts, making everything softer, more daring.
the bottles emptied one by one, their presence a witness to the hours that had melted away as you lingered in each other’s company. the glasses tipped over, forgotten, their contents pooling on the floor like spilled memories. it didn’t matter. nothing mattered except the way he looked at you—intensely, as if every part of him was drawn to you in a way that left him no choice but to pull you closer.
and then, he kissed you.
it was slow at first, almost tentative, like he was relearning the shape of your lips, the rhythm of your breath. but it didn’t stay that way for long. in an instant, the kiss deepened, the years of separation melting into a blur of heat and urgency. his hands found your waist, pulling you closer—closer, until you were climbing into his lap, your legs straddling him without hesitation.
his mouth was scorching, addictive, just like you remembered. it was the taste of him, rich like wine but unmistakably him—a flavor you thought you’d buried, but now you realized you could never forget. his kisses were messy, hungry, each one leaving you breathless as soft moans and breathless whimpers slipped between you. his hands roamed with purpose, sliding down to cup your ass, pulling you flush against him. his grip was firm, possessive, so achingly familiar that it made your head spin.
you felt the growing bulge beneath you, hard and urgent, straining against his pants. the pressure sent a sharp jolt of need straight to your core, igniting a fire you couldn’t ignore. warmth pooled between your legs, soaking you as your hips rocked instinctively against him. a deep, guttural groan escaped him, vibrating against your lips as you kissed him harder, hungrier.
“i missed you,” you breathed, the words tumbling from your lips as they traveled to the curve of his neck. you nipped at the sensitive skin below his ear, the spot you knew drove him wild. sure enough, a soft, desperate moan spilled from him, and you smiled against his skin, savoring the sound of him unraveling beneath you.
"i love you, bun," he whispered, his voice soft yet heavy with meaning, a tremor of raw emotion in every word. his gaze, unwavering and intense, locked onto yours, as if he could reach inside you with just a look. his lips brushed yours, so lightly it almost felt like a delicate promise. "i... i don’t think i ever stopped."
the words crashed into you, like a wave breaking against the shore, unexpected yet inevitable. your heart skipped, breath caught in your chest as the depth of his confession wrapped around you, pulling you under. "i love you, too, baekhyun," you breathed, your voice barely more than a whisper, but steady—anchored in the truth that had always been there, buried beneath the years of silence. "i never stopped."
and then, his lips were on yours again, and it was as if the world snapped back into place, the pieces aligning with the force of your shared confession. finally, it felt like home. like you were where you were always meant to be. your body responded instinctively, moving closer, desperate to feel the heat that had always simmered between you two. you ground against him, slow, deliberate, an aching need rising in you both. the friction between you sent jolts of electricity through your veins, a fire sparking to life as you felt him tense beneath you, his hands tightening on your hips.
for a brief moment, you thought he'd pull you in fully, lose himself in the moment as much as you were. but instead, his body went rigid, stilling beneath you as if every muscle had locked in place.
"wait—" his voice cracked, the sound thick with a dangerous mix of yearning and restraint. his hands stilled your movements, holding you in place. you could feel his chest rise and fall beneath you, shallow breaths betraying the storm inside him. "i don’t want to pressure you into anything you’re not ready for. i know we agreed to take things slow. i can wait."
his words cut through the haze of your desire, stopping you dead in your tracks. the sincerity in his eyes hit you like a tidal wave. he was holding back—for you.
for you.
the ache in your chest was sharp, but in the best possible way.
without saying a word, you reached down, sliding his hand beneath your dress, guiding him to where you were already burning. his breath caught when his fingers brushed against your bare skin. his eyes widened, shock crossing his features as he realized you weren’t wearing anything underneath.
"feel how wet you’ve made me?" you whispered, your lips grazing his ear, your voice low, sultry, teasing. the way his chest moves as his breathing becomes more deeper, heavier as if it’s taking everything in him not to put his fingers to work on that sloppy cunt of yours. you could feel his restraint fraying, and you couldn’t help but smile.
"still think i wanna take things slow?" you teased, your thumb tracing the curve of his bottom lip, urging him to act.
you could feel his body tremble under your touch, his hands shaking slightly as he adjusted, his fingers just barely grazing where you needed him most. the hunger in his eyes was almost unbearable, and you leaned in closer, brushing your lips over his jaw, waiting for him to break.
his composure shattered. his eyes fluttered shut as you brought his slick-coated fingers to your mouth, your tongue swirling around them slowly, deliberately. the taste of yourself on him was heady, and you sucked his fingers clean, the act sending a shiver down his spine.
“fuck,” he groaned, his voice thick with hunger. “ya sure about this, bun?” each syllable a desperate plea as his restraint teetered dangerously close to breaking.
you nodded, eyes wide and shimmering with a mix of innocence and promise. your lashes fluttered like the softest caress as you looked up at him, lips swollen and bruised from his fevered kisses, a delicate pout lingering on them. the sight of made his dick twitch. “always been sure when it comes to you, baek.”
the words hit him like a wave, and with a shuddering sigh, he couldn’t hold back anymore. his lips crashed against yours, possessive and hungry, claiming you as if he’d never get another chance. one arm wrapped around your head, fingers threading through your hair with a desperate need, while the other hand slid to your ass, squeezing it roughly. his grip tightened, a subtle warning, but you could feel the way his muscles strained, the raw tension in his touch. every press of his fingers into your skin felt like a brand, like he was marking you, anchoring himself to you. his touch was a blaze, a wildfire that scorched you in the best way, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear an inch of distance.
and then the world tilted.
with a surge of power and urgency, he lifted you without hesitation—strong, commanding, as though he was claiming you in the most primal of ways. a breathless gasp escaped your lips, the sound of surprise barely escaping before his hands cradled you, holding you as if you were made of something more fragile than glass. he held you with reverence, but there was an edge to it, a possessiveness that promised he would never let you go.
his breath is heavy against your neck, warm and uneven, betraying the restraint he’s barely holding onto. your body is pressed tightly to his chest, his heart pounding against yours, every beat echoing the unspoken promises that linger in the air. each step he takes toward your bedroom is deliberate, charged, as though the distance is unbearable, as if he can’t get you there fast enough.
"shit," he muttered, his voice rough and low as he lowered you onto the edge of your bed. the realization hit him like a tidal wave, cold and relentless, stealing his focus. his gaze flickered to yours, a storm of panic swirling in his eyes. “i didn’t bring any condoms. do you… do you have any?”
his question lingered in the air, heavy and unspoken, cutting deeper than the surface. the knot in his stomach tightened, the thought of someone else touching you during the time apart clawing at his insides. he hated the idea more than he cared to admit.
your laughter cut through the tension, soft but laced with something playful, a gentle ring that seemed to fill the space between you. "no, baek," you replied, your voice a breathless melody. "i haven’t had sex—well, any action, really—since you." the confession slipped out before you could stop it, and though a blush bloomed on your cheeks, you held his gaze. there was a flicker of vulnerability in your eyes, but it only made his heart race faster.
his breath hitched audibly, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. his heartbeat thundered in his ears, his chest rising and falling with the weight of your words. “you’re serious?” he whispered, disbelief laced with something else—pride. his lips curved upward into a slow, cocky grin, the kind that made your stomach flip. the thought of you untouched by anyone else since him fed something primal, something possessive.
you nodded, your teeth sinking into your lip like you were weighing the impact of your words. embarrassment rushed to your neck, but it was quickly replaced by the heat of his stare. it burned through you, molten and unwavering, making your heart thrum harder with every passing second.
“fuck,” he rasped, the word almost guttural, like he couldn’t contain the surge of raw emotion. it was your turn to smile, a cocky glint lighting up your eyes. but when he spoke again, the weight of his confession hit you harder than you expected.
"i haven’t gone raw in anyone since you."
the words hung heavy in the air, suffocating with meaning. the way he said it, so casually, like it was a fact that only made sense in the world he had built around you, made your pulse spike. it was everything—the promise, the truth. your knees weakened at the depth of his gaze, molten like a fire you couldn’t escape.
"d’ya trust me, bun?" he whispered, voice low, the words slipping from his lips with a possessive kind of hunger.
you swallowed thickly, your breath coming out uneven, heart pounding in your throat. your pulse raced, and despite the weight of his question, you somehow found your voice, breathless and full of raw honesty.
“with my life.”
his lips curled into that signature, boyish grin that had always undone you, a glint of mischief dancing in his darkened eyes.
without hesitation, he closed the distance between you, his hands brushing the smooth, delicate skin of your arms before they drifted to the zipper at your back. in one seamless motion, his fingers tugged at the fabric, pulling your dress down with a fluid grace that seemed almost too effortless, as if he’d done it a thousand times before. the fabric slid off you like a memory, slipping to the floor as he guided you back onto the pillows, leaving you bare under the weight of his gaze.
his breath faltered as he drank you in, his eyes tracing every inch of your skin, the intensity of his hunger for you pressing against him like an ache that made his chest tighten. "god," he breathed out, the word barely escaping his lips as if he was speaking to himself more than to you, his hands gently exploring your exposed body like he was memorizing it, as though each touch could never be repeated.
but then it came—the surge of insecurity, creeping in from the edges of your mind like a dark cloud, unwelcome and cold. without thinking, you crossed your arms over your body, your hands instinctively covering the soft curves you’d learned to live with, but had never quite come to accept.
baekhyun saw it instantly. the shift in you, the way you tried to pull away, to hide. his expression softened, his gaze darkening with understanding as he stepped closer. his voice, low and steady, was a balm to your wounded confidence. “don’t you ever feel the need to hide from me,” he murmured, each word laced with an unspoken promise. his hands were gentle, yet firm, as he took hold of your wrists, slowly guiding them away from your body and placing them at your sides. the weight of his touch was reassuring, a silent command for you to trust him, to trust that he saw you—all of you—and that was all he wanted.
his touch was almost ethereal, like a whisper against your skin. his fingertips grazed the curve of your breasts, lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch. “bigger,” he murmured, the word thick with admiration, as if discovering something new about you—something he’d always known he wanted. his hands traveled lower, tracing the lines of your waist, feeling the soft expansion of your hips beneath his palms.
when his fingers brushed over the subtle stretch marks on your ass, a low, guttural groan escaped him, the sound vibrating through the air between you. his body tensed, his desire unmistakable, radiating off of him in waves. “god, you’re so beautiful,” he said, his gaze never leaving the soft, inviting shape of your body, as if memorizing every inch of you.
his hand drifted to your stomach, his finger moving with slow deliberation, drawing a path down the center of your abdomen, a slow, torturous line that set your nerves alight. “you’re gonna feel me,” he rasped, his voice husky, the words carrying a weight of promise. his thumb pressed gently into the sensitive skin just above your belly button, sending a shiver spiraling through your body. “right here,” he murmured, his eyes locking with yours—dark, smoldering, intense with intent.
the teasing, the way he looked at you like you were something precious, something intoxicating—it was too much. your hands clenched at the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer, the need to feel him overwhelming. without a second thought, your lips crashed against his, urgent and desperate. the kiss was hungry, frantic, your mouths pressing against each other as you fumbled with the fabric of his clothes, your body burning for more.
his laugh rumbled against your lips, the sound low and rich as he pulled back just enough to smirk down at you. “eager, aren’t we?”
you didn’t miss a beat, your fingers working at his waistband as you bit back, “just wanna see if you still know how to fuck me properly.”
his laugh deepened, full and throaty, as he shoved his boxers down, freeing his throbbing cock. “glad to see that smart mouth of yours hasn’t changed, bun,” he said, his grin wicked. he leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as he added, “i’ma have fun puttin’ it to good use later.”
your breath hitched, your heart pounding in anticipation as he pressed closer, the weight of his words and his presence igniting every nerve in your body.
he positions himself at your entrance, and your breath catches in your throat, heart pounding so hard you can feel it echo in your ears. the heat radiating from him, the subtle brush of his skin against yours, sends a shiver rippling through your body. his tip, swollen and leaking, nudges against you, dragging slowly through your wetness, teasing with a precision that makes your toes curl.
he lingers at your entrance, just barely pressing in before retreating, spreading his precum and your slick together in a maddening rhythm. the sensation of his velvety tip gliding over your folds, grazing your clit, sends jolts of pleasure through your core. every deliberate movement feels like a silent taunt, a reminder of how much he’s savoring this moment—savoring you.
“baek, please,” you whimper, your voice trembling, desperate. your fingers clutch the sheets beneath you, nails digging in as if grounding yourself could somehow stave off the overwhelming need building inside you. tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as the relentless teasing pushes you closer to the edge of begging.
his own restraint is fraying, evident in the way his breath hitches, the way his hands tremble slightly as they grip your hips. he leans down, his forehead resting against yours, his dark eyes smoldering with a mix of lust and longing. “oh— fffuuuccck, i missed you,” he groans, his voice strained, thick with emotion and need.
his words barely register before he begins to push in, his throbbing tip stretching you inch by agonizing inch. the sensation of him filling you—so warm, so familiar yet impossibly intense—forces a soft gasp from your lips. he exhales sharply, his jaw clenched, savoring every second, every sensation, as though this moment is the only thing that matters in the world.
baekhyun’s gaze flickers to your face, catching the faint wince that creases your features, gone as quickly as it came, but not quick enough to escape him. his brows knit together, his concern palpable, etched into the soft lines of his expression. he stays perfectly still, his body taut with restraint, as if afraid to move and hurt you. the stretch stings, yes, but there’s something deeper beneath it—a delicious burn that ignites every nerve, leaving you teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure.
“baby, you good?” his voice is low, soft, a husky murmur that wraps around you like the warmest comfort, his tone threading worry with tenderness, his concern a steady anchor in the haze between you. his dark eyes search yours, flickering with a mix of restraint and hunger, like he’s balancing on the precipice of losing control but refusing to let it happen until you’re ready.
you nod, though your breath catches, a sharp inhale that betrays the lingering ache as you will yourself to adjust. you shift your hips slightly, testing, feeling the stretch give way to something deeper, something raw that tugs at your core and sets your pulse hammering.
he groans, low and guttural, a sound dragged from the depths of his chest as he feels you take him in just a little more. his breath stutters, breaking like a thread pulled too tight, his hands flexing where they rest on your hips. the sharp ache dissolves into heat, into a magnetic pull you can’t resist. his reaction tells you he’s just as wrecked as you are, caught in the unbearable tension of holding back when everything about this moment demands he let go.
baekhyun’s exhale shudders, his head tipping back as his grip on your hips tightens just enough to remind you of his control. “fuck,” he rasps, the word rough and shaky, his voice carrying a mix of awe and restraint. “i missed the way you feel around me.”
his words send a ripple of heat through you, raw and unfiltered, a confession of just how much you’re undoing him. his fingers dig into your skin, grounding him, though his gaze never strays from yours. the tension coils tighter with every passing second, his dark eyes blazing with something possessive, something unrelenting, as though he’s holding back the storm brewing just beneath the surface.
your need burns hotter, desperation clawing its way to the forefront. “baekhyun—,” you beg, the words tumbling out before you can catch them. “please... just hurry up and fuck me.”
the plea comes out shaky, your voice trembling with want, and for a moment, you feel utterly exposed. but the effect on him is instant. his lips curl into a slow, wicked smile, his expression one of pure, devastating control as if that's all he needed to hear. “as you wish, sweetheart,” he grunts, his voice thick with promise and unrestrained desire.
his hands tighten their hold on your hips, strong and commanding, as he shifts his position. with a flex of his arms, he lifts you with effortless strength, your body rising until you can feel the head of his cock stretching you once more. the tension builds, unbearable and heady, before he slams you down onto him in one fluid motion.
the force of it steals the breath from your lungs, the intensity of him filling you completely, stretching you to your limit. the sound that escapes you is ragged, a cry of pleasure that seems to echo in the air between you. baekhyun’s growl rumbles low in his chest, primal and rough, as his hips meet yours, bottoming out with a precision that leaves you trembling.
his movements are deliberate yet feral, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, his hands never leaving your body as if anchoring you to him. his need is palpable, pouring out in every motion, every flex of his muscles as he claims you with an intensity that sets every nerve ending alight.
“ya feel so fuckin’ perfect,” he groans against your skin, the words muffled but soaked in reverence as his lips press to your shoulder, your neck, anywhere he can reach. every motion, every sound, every touch pulls you deeper into him, blurring the lines between where you end and he begins.
he missed you. god, every inch of him missed you. it’s like his cock remembers every curve, every slick ridge of your walls, molding to him perfectly. and of course, he lets you know, his voice breaking into a string of desperate confessions. “f-fuck… m’sorry. ya squeezin’ me so tight. i think ‘m gonna cum soon hah– and ‘m gonna fuck it right back into this perfect—ngh—cunt.”
“hah—baek,” you whine, your voice trembling as you fully surrender to him. your body rocks helplessly in rhythm with his relentless thrusts, his cock plunging so deep it leaves you gasping. “s-so deep—hngh… can feel you here—” your hand snakes down, guiding his to press against your stomach, right where the swollen head of his cock is relentlessly hitting that devastatingly sweet spot.
his breath hitches, a low, disbelieving laugh huffing out as his fingers press into your skin. “fuck,” he groans, his eyes dark with lust, fixed on you, utterly wrecked beneath him. his hand is on top of the other as they press down over the slight bulge where he’s buried so deeply inside you. “feel that, baby? that’s me… stretching this pretty pussy out so good.”
his words send a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, and it’s too much—all of it, the weight of him, the filthy praise falling from his lips, the way his hands grip you like you’re something precious, even as he loses himself in you.
“baek—oh god!” your cry echoes through the room as your body shatters beneath him, the first orgasm of the night ripping through you with a force that leaves you trembling. his lips crash against yours, swallowing your desperate moans as his hand moves lower, fingers finding your clit in quick, precise circles. the overstimulation sends sparks shooting through your veins, the pleasure stretching, elongating, as he coaxes every last wave from you.
“that’s it—hah. cum for me angel,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice softening even as his hips keep their punishing rhythm, chasing his own release. “y'so perfect, baby. nngghh—so fuckin' perfect for me…and finally mine again.”
“been y-yours,” you hiss, dragging out the word as his crazed tip whacks itself against your sensitive spot. again, again, and again—he’s hitting against that same spot as if it were a target and he never misses. his frantic hits against your core causes your toes to curl and your back to arch even further as you’re slowly being brought closer to your orgasmic, teetering edge. “ffuuck! ‘m cumming again, baek, cumming.”
your release crashes over you like a tidal wave, sweeping you into a realm that feels like heaven itself. your body gives out beneath the intensity, collapsing back against the mattress as baekhyun hovers over you, his breath hot and heavy. his tongue trails a slick, wet path down the curve of your neck, his touch a sinful mix of reverence and hunger as you unravel completely beneath him.
baekhyun’s body is pressed flush against yours, his every movement slow yet calculated, like he’s savoring each second, each inch, as if the world might steal you away from him again. the heat of his skin seeps into yours, the sheer intensity in his dark, lidded eyes making it impossible to look away. his breath is ragged, the sound mingling with the soft gasps spilling from your lips, the two of you lost in a rhythm that feels as natural as breathing.
“please,” he rasps, his voice cracking, raw with emotion. his forehead presses to yours, the touch grounding and desperate as he sinks deeper, his hips stuttering like the closeness of you is too much, too overwhelming to contain. “please, don’t fuckin’ leave me again.”
his words linger, heavy and aching, filling the space between you with the weight of every unspoken hurt, every moment lost. his fingers tighten on your hips, digging into your skin as though the feel of you beneath him is the only thing tethering him to reality. his thrusts grow erratic, uneven, each movement betraying the fragility of his control.
“nggghh—i think...” his voice falters, a low groan spilling from his lips as he buries his face into the curve of your neck. his mouth grazes your skin, reverent, desperate, the ghost of his breath hot and trembling against you. “i think i’ll die if you do. god, i can’t—i can’t spend another fuckin’ day without you.”
your heart clenches painfully, his vulnerability cutting straight through you like a blade. his body trembles against yours, every inch of him straining to keep you close, to pour everything he feels into the spaces between you. your fingers find their way into his hair, threading through the damp strands as you tug gently, coaxing him to meet your gaze.
his eyes lift, dark and glassy, brimming with emotion so unguarded it threatens to undo you. devotion, fear, yearning—they’re all there, laid bare and unfiltered.
“baekhyun,” you whisper, your voice a delicate tremor, barely audible over the shared gasps of breath between you. your hands cradle his face, fingertips brushing over the damp strands of his hair as if trying to ground him, to ground yourself, in this fragile, fleeting moment. “’m not going anywhere. i’m here... i’m yours. we’re yours.”
his breath catches, shuddering under the weight of your words, and a sound—fragile, broken—escapes him. he surges forward, pulling you closer, deeper, until it feels like he’s trying to fuse your souls together, to erase every inch of space between you. his thrusts are slower now, deliberate, every roll of his hips steeped in something more than desire—something raw and sacred, like a plea, a promise, an apology all at once.
your body arches into his, a guttural whine ripping from your throat as his cock pulses within your walls, stretching, filling, consuming. your muscles clench around him, your body dragging him deeper into your heat, and his control shatters like glass.
“f-fuckin’ shit,” he growls through gritted teeth, his hips jerking erratically as he spills into you, heat blooming deep inside, marking you in every sense of the word. the intensity steals the breath from your lungs, and as the waves of pleasure crash over you, pulling you under, your release spirals into his, the two of you breaking apart and piecing yourselves back together in the same breath.
his lips find yours, the kiss frantic and messy, a collision of tongues and teeth as if he’s trying to reclaim the time you spent apart. every ragged moan, every whispered curse and gasp fills the room, the air thick with the symphony of your shared need. the world outside fades, leaving only the two of you—entangled, desperate, and utterly consumed by the moment.
it’s not just lust, not just longing—it’s everything. years of heartache, love, and an aching, unrelenting need poured into every kiss, every thrust, every whispered vow that promises you’ll never leave each other again.
your walls clench around him again, coaxing more from him, and he groans deeply, his arms looping around your waist to anchor you to him. his grip is firm, almost desperate, holding your trembling hips in place as his thick, creamy release paints your insides. it’s obscene, the way it trickles down your shaking thighs, a messy, lewd reminder of everything he’s giving you. but baekhyun doesn’t stop—not yet. his hips slow, but only slightly, rolling into you with a lazy, unrelenting rhythm as if determined to fuck every drop back into you.
it’s filthy, yes, but there’s something almost tender in the way his lips brush against yours again, his deep moans muffled as his movements grow languid, sweet in their intensity. he nips at your bottom lip, his voice a teasing rasp when he finally pulls back just enough to speak, his forehead pressed to yours.
"how ’bout we give minji a sibling, huh?" the words spill from him, low and teasing, yet dripping with intent, his hips punctuating the question with a deliberate thrust that has you crying out.
your brain short-circuits, the world spinning as his cock drags against your sensitive walls. your head nods before you can even process his words, a frantic, needy motion as your body betrays just how utterly drunk you are on him. thinking straight? impossible. all you can manage is a breathless, choked moan of agreement, your fingers digging into his back as he continues to work you into oblivion."yeah?" your voice trembles, still riding the waves of your last high. "well, we’ve got all night to try."
the morning sun filtered softly through the trees as you stood at your front door, your body still humming with the afterglow of the night before. baekhyun’s car had just turned the corner, leaving behind the faint scent of his cologne and the weight of his goodbye kiss still lingering on your lips. you smiled to yourself, the memory of his warm hands on your waist and the way he’d looked at you all night filling you with a quiet joy.
but then your thoughts shifted, and a familiar ache settled in your chest. you glanced to your left, to chanyeol’s house, where your daughter, minji, was probably still fast asleep. you wondered when you should go pick her up, already missing the sound of her giggles and the way she always ran to you with open arms.
your gaze lingered on his house, warm affection for your daughter mingling with a twinge of guilt. chanyeol had been nothing but kind—stepping in to watch minji overnight so you and baekhyun could have this time together. but as your eyes traced the windows, movement caught your attention.
the curtain in the living room fluttered, a shadow shifting behind it before it was quickly pulled shut. the abruptness of the action made your heart sink. someone had been watching. you didn’t need to guess who.
your stomach twisted as the realization hit you. chanyeol.
the look on his face from last night flashed through your mind—the way his mouth had tightened, his expression faltering when you’d casually mentioned your plans with baekhyun. you’d tried to soften the blow, telling him you were "taking things slow," but now those words felt hollow, like a broken promise.
slow? the sight of you outside your front door in baekhyun’s shirt, kissing him goodbye, told a different story.
the weight of the moment pressed on you, guilt pooling heavy in your chest. chanyeol didn’t deserve this. he didn’t deserve to see this, to piece together the night you’d spent with baekhyun and feel whatever it was you knew he must be feeling.
for a second, you thought about knocking on his door, about saying something—anything—that might ease the tension now crackling in the air between your homes. but instead, you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to step inside your own door. maybe it was better this way, to let the moment settle, to deal with the aftermath later when your thoughts were clearer.
but as you shut the door behind you, your phone buzzed in your pocket.
chanyeol:
hey, can we talk?
a sigh escapes your lips, the guilt in your chest an ache that refuses to fade. you were already bracing for this conversation, knowing it had to happen, knowing you owed him this clarity. more than that, you still wanted him in your life—him and nari both. they had become such an integral part of your and minji's world, their presence a steady anchor in the chaos. you had to make sure he understood that.
your thumbs hover over the screen, the words forming before you can second-guess them.
yeah, i think we should, yeol.
chanyeol sits on the couch beside you, though the space between you feels like a canyon. it’s a noticeable difference from how he used to sit, closer, as if the world wasn’t big enough to separate the two of you.
he brought minji home a few minutes ago, fast asleep against his shoulder, her cheek pressed to him in the way only a child could manage, soft and unguarded. her little mouth hung open, a whisper of snores escaping as if the world around her didn’t exist. she’d been worn out from a full morning playing with his sister’s kids and nari, her tiny form so peaceful it made your heart ache. you’d both had quietly tucked her into bed together. and now here you were, back in the living room, perched on the edge of an unspoken conversation.
his sister had stopped by his place earlier this morning, her kids in tow for a chaotic playdate with nari and minji. she’d agreed to watch nari while chanyeol brought minji back home and you and him have this talk, though he’d been vague about why he needed the time. what was he supposed to say? “i’m going next door to talk to the girl i’ve been madly crushing on for over a year about seeing her kiss her ex-boyfriend and baby daddy and now i don’t know where i stand.” no. too messy. too raw. too much.
his jaw tightens, a small movement you barely catch out of the corner of your eye. the weight of his presence feels like it’s pressing against your chest, suffocating and grounding all at once. you glance at him, then quickly look away, unsure of how to start this conversation. unsure if you even can.
the silence between you stretches, awkward and heavy. you try to fill it with small talk, your voice soft. “how was minji last night?”
he glances at you, a smile tugging at his lips, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. there’s something pained in his expression, something restrained. “she was great. she always is.”
you smile faintly, but it fades as guilt bubbles in your chest. “look, chanyeol,” you start, your voice tentative, “i’m sorry for what you saw this morning. it probably didn’t make me look like ‘mother of the year.’” you pause, exhaling slowly. “i know i said baekhyun and i were going to take things slow, but… one thing led to another, and—”
“stop,” he interrupts, his voice sharp but not unkind. his hand comes up, almost reflexively, as if to shield himself from your words. he winces, and you know it’s because he’s picturing it—baekhyun’s hands on you, his lips on yours. where chanyeol wishes his own could be.
his shoulders slump as he exhales, the tension in his body evident. his face is a mosaic of emotions—hurt, frustration, resignation. “i don’t think i want to hear the details… about what happened with you and baekhyun.”
the air grows heavier, his words filling the space between you. for a moment, neither of you speaks. then, he sighs again, his voice quieter this time, softer. “i just came to say that i get it.”
you blink, caught off guard. “you do?”
he nods, his gaze falling to his hands, which rest loosely in his lap. “yeah,” he says, the word heavy with a weight he’s carried for longer than you probably realize. “i always knew your heart was still with him. filled with him. i thought that maybe, over time, with me… and nari… we—i—would fill it instead.” his voice cracks slightly, and he clears his throat, forcing himself to go on. “but then he came along. and even then, i was still foolish enough to believe i had a chance.”
your heart clenches, the rawness in his voice cutting deeper than any accusation ever could.
he looks up at you, his eyes earnest despite the ache swimming in them. “but i just want you to know… don’t feel guilty. about this. about me. nari and i—we’ll still be here for you and minji. always.”
his words hit you like a wave, and you’re left staring at him, your chest tight and your throat dry. there’s no anger in his voice, no bitterness, just an overwhelming sense of loss and quiet acceptance.
and somehow, that hurts even more.
you open your mouth, but no words come out. what can you possibly say to that? to a man who has just stripped himself bare, laying his feelings and heartbreak at your feet without a hint of resentment? guilt swirls in your stomach, heavy and unrelenting, but beneath it is something softer—gratitude.
“chanyeol,” you finally manage, your voice quiet, shaky. “i… i don’t even know where to start.” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, a nervous habit you’ve had for as long as you can remember. “i never meant to hurt you. i swear, i didn’t.”
his smile is small, sad, and fleeting. “i know.”
“you mean so much to me,” you continue, your voice gaining strength. “and not just because you’ve been so good to minji and me, but because you’re… you’re you. you’ve been a constant in our lives when everything else felt so uncertain.”
his gaze flickers to yours, and the weight of his emotions is almost too much to bear.
“but,” you add, hesitating because the truth feels like a betrayal, “i can’t lie to you. when baekhyun came back, it stirred up so much that i thought i’d buried. i thought i’d moved on, but… seeing him again…” you trail off, unsure how to finish without twisting the knife further.
“i get it,” he says softly, sparing you the need to say more.
“i don’t deserve you,” you whisper, shaking your head. “you’ve been nothing but kind and patient, and i hate that i’ve put you in this position. but… thank you. for everything. for understanding, for being here, for—”
“don’t,” he cuts you off gently, his voice firm but kind. “don’t thank me like this is the end of something. nari and minji are still best friends, and i’m not going anywhere. you don’t get rid of me that easily.”
his attempt at humor coaxes a faint smile from you, though the tears welling in your eyes threaten to spill over. “you’re too good, you know that?”
he shrugs, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in something that’s almost a smile. “or maybe i just have bad timing.”
you both fall silent again, the unspoken understanding settling between you like a fragile truce. you want to hug him, to thank him properly, but you know it’s not what he needs right now. instead, you place a hand on his, squeezing it gently.
“i’m sorry,” you say again, your voice barely above a whisper.
he squeezes back, his touch warm despite the distance he’s trying to keep. “me too.”
and with that, the moment shifts, leaving behind a bittersweet ache that doesn’t feel quite like an ending but more like an understanding—a quiet closure to what could have been. as chanyeol stands to leave, his hand moves instinctively, gently cupping your chin. his thumb grazes the soft curve of it, a gesture so intimately familiar it almost feels like a promise.
his eyes meet yours, but this time, there’s no playful glint, no trace of hope lingering there. instead, his gaze is calm, tinged with a bittersweet acceptance that sits heavy in the space between you. his lips pull into a small, wistful smile—warm enough to remind you of the connection you once shared but tempered by the reality that things have changed.
“we’ll be okay,” he says softly, the weight of his words lingering in the air. “nari and i… we’ll always be here for you and minji. that doesn’t change.”
his voice is steady, not heavy with regret but grounded in the knowledge that some paths aren’t meant to intertwine the way he might have once hoped. and as he steps back, the warmth of his touch fades, but not in a way that feels cold or distant.
instead, it feels like understanding.
he hesitates for a moment, the faintest flicker of something unreadable crossing his face, but then he nods slightly, his smile growing just enough to feel reassuring. “see you around, yeah?”
“yeah,” you manage, your voice soft but steady.
with that, he turns and walks out the door—not leaving behind a void, but rather a quiet sense of peace. the kind of peace that comes with knowing some connections will always remain, even if they’ve shifted into something new.
baekhyun had started staying over on weekends. it had been his idea initially, a way to make up for the years he missed with minji—but somewhere along the way, it became about more than that. your relationship with him had been blossoming, as if no time had been lost.
the nights you spent together felt like a rediscovery of who you both were, a bittersweet journey through what was and what could be. after minji would fall asleep, the two of you would sit on the couch, sharing stories from the years apart. his late-night shifts at the hospital during his program, your struggles navigating motherhood alone, the little triumphs and heartbreaks in between.
what surprised you most was how much had stayed the same. you still had the same taste in music, still argued playfully over which movie to watch. even the new interests you’d each picked up fit together seamlessly—baekhyun teasing you about your new baking obsession while you mocked his newfound love for photography.
it was during one of those weekends, after a long day spent at the park with minji, that things shifted. the house was quiet, save for the soft hum of the night outside. minji had gone to bed hours ago, worn out from a day of running around, and now you lay tangled in the sheets with baekhyun, your skin still warm from the closeness you’d just shared.
his arm draped lazily over your waist, fingers tracing absentminded patterns on your skin. “i’ve been thinking,” he murmured, his voice soft but serious.
you turned to face him, your cheek brushing against his bare chest. “about what?”
“about telling her,” he said, his hand stilling on your side. “minji. that i’m her dad.”
you blinked up at him, the words settling heavily in the air between you. it wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed your mind, but hearing him say it made it feel... real.
��you think she’s ready?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
he nodded slowly, his dark eyes meeting yours. “she’s smart, you know? she already knows there’s something different about the way i am with her. and with you.” his lips quirked into a small smile. “plus, i want her to know. i want her to know how much i love her. how much i love... this.”
your breath hitched, his words wrapping around your heart like a warm embrace. “you really think now’s the time?”
baekhyun shifted, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at you. “i do. but only if you’re ready, too.”
you bit your lip, the weight of the decision pressing down on you. but as you thought about how minji had been bonding with baekhyun—her laughter during their tickle fights, the way she lit up every time he walked into the room—you realized he was right. she deserved to know.
“okay,” you whispered, your fingers reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his face. “let’s tell her.”
he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his voice a gentle promise. “thank you. for letting me be here. for giving me this chance.”
the following day, during lunch, you sat minji down. the late afternoon sun poured into the kitchen, casting soft golden streaks across the table where you, baekhyun, and minji sat. the aroma of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup lingered in the air, a comfort meal chosen carefully for this important day.
minji swung her little legs under the chair, humming a tune in between bites, blissfully unaware of the weight of the moment looming.
you glanced at baekhyun, his fingers tapping lightly against the edge of his bowl—a nervous tell he couldn’t quite hide. catching your eye, he gave you a small nod. it was time.
“minji,” you began gently, setting your spoon down and leaning forward. her big eyes flicked up to you, still chewing, her cheeks puffed out like a little chipmunk.
“mommy and i want to talk to you about something important,” baekhyun added, his voice warm but tinged with a nervous edge.
minji blinked, tilting her head curiously. “what is it?”
you took a deep breath, reaching for her tiny hand across the table. “you know how you’ve been spending a lot of time with baekhyun lately? going to the park, playing games, having fun?”
she nodded enthusiastically, a grin spreading across her face. “yeah! he’s so fun! and he’s really good at hide-and-seek!”
baekhyun chuckled softly, his fingers brushing through his hair. “well, there’s a reason we’ve been spending so much time together, minji,” he said, his voice tender. “it’s because i’m your dad.”
the room went quiet for a moment as her little brain worked to process the words. her eyes flicked between you and baekhyun, her brow furrowing slightly. “my... dad?”
you squeezed her hand gently. “yes, sweetheart. baekhyun is your dad. he loves you very much and wants to be in your life, just like mommy is.”
minji’s lips pressed together in a thoughtful pout. then, she looked at baekhyun, her small voice filled with curiosity. “are you gonna stay forever?”
his breath hitched, and you could see the emotion pooling in his eyes. he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table to meet her at eye level. “yes, minji. i promise i’m not going anywhere. i want to be here for you, always.”
she studied him for a moment, then turned to you. “is that okay, mommy?”
your throat tightened at the question, the innocence of her trust nearly breaking you. you nodded quickly, brushing a hand through her soft hair. “of course, bun. it’s more than okay.”
a beat passed, and then her face lit up with a smile that could rival the sun. “so... does this mean i can call you daddy?”
baekhyun laughed, his voice shaky but filled with relief. “only if you want to, bunny.”
without hesitation, she slid off her chair and ran to him, wrapping her tiny arms around his waist. “hi, daddy.”
baekhyun’s arms enveloped her instantly, holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world. his eyes met yours over her head, glistening with unshed tears and a gratitude too deep for words.
in that moment, you knew everything would be okay. your little family had found its way back together.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ˎˊ˗ omg k first of all, i’m so, so, sooooo sorry it took me forever to finish this fic 😭😭😭 i really wanted to try something new with this one. more angsty vibes, some slow-burn, and some juicy subplots to keep it interesting hehe :') instead of my usual "plot? what plot? oh wait, you mean porn" approach (which ofc the next like 4 fics are definitely giving that lmfao) ANYWAAAYYYY, i hope you enjoyed it!! <3 as always lmk ur thoughts <3 <3 (unless you hated it or thought it was mid...then pls...keep it to urself because i am a fragile lil bnuy n will cry 😭🤚🏼) k that's all bye love you guys!!!! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა 💖
ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 .
#baekhyun smut#baekhyun one shot#baekhyun fic#baekhyun x reader#exo smut#exo fic#x reader#exo x reader#kpop smut#kpop fic#baekhyun#lisawrites#dividers are by @anitalenia <3
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X-Men putting the piece together on who Laura is
ANOTHER X-MEN POV ON THE IDIOTS
Laura who is sometimes seen around the mansion with Ellie, Yukio, and Colossus. She is usually brought by Deadpool of all people. Everyone seems to almost.. know her but they can't place it.
Ellie, Yukio, and Colossus aren't answering questions they just admit she's a mutant who they had met.
They try to get Laura to join the school but she rolls her eyes at the meer idea. She seems so extremely uninterested it's admirable. She doesn't talk to anyone besides the previously mentioned three and she seems more than happy with that.
It's a rare day where Deadpool ended up hanging out at the mansion. (They can usually manage to run him off). He seems to be hanging around Laura who actually sees to enjoy his company.
He's talking about anything and everything as he does while Laura chimes in here and there seemingly enjoying not having to feel the silence.
Eventually after a while and a phone call to Deadpool the merc gets up and tells her he has to go but she doesn't have to come with. Laura rolls her eyes before answering as she too gets up.
"Of course I'm coming with you pop."
The Mansion's inhabitants share shocked looks.
"You are just like your father Mini." Deadpool answers with a audible smile as he puts an arm around her shoulders and they head out the door.
The rumor mill goes wild with that one. Surely that's not Deadpool's biological daughter surely.
It was the next time Laura was at the mansion that they got answers. Laura had been hanging out in the library with Yukio when she got a call. She had rolled her eyes as she grabbed at her discarded jacket.
As soon as she said her goodbyes and hung up she had apologized for having to leave early, but her papá was here because something had come up. Yukio had reassure that she understood and walked her to the door.
A motorcycle could be heard outside and on almost forgotten instincts people started to make their way to the entrance waiting for a ghost. They knew Logan had died and they knew their was a new one that had appeared, but he had done his best to avoid them at all costs.
No one had done anything to reach out seeming to sense that there was something very different about this version of the man they knew. Only this time as Laura opened the door there he was. He seemed extremely uncomfortable and a moment away from fleeing but he was there.
Laura had just smiled widely and hugged him. "Hi papá." She greeted voice warbling with a purr...and...holy shit.
Logan hugged her back, "Hello kit." He warbled right back.
It felt like a baseball bat to the back of the head. It was so obvious how did they miss it? Laura looked so much like him it couldn't have been more clear.
Laura was Logan's daughter, Laura was Deadpool's daughter. That ment....oh no
#deadclaws#deadclaw#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool & wolverine#deadpool 3#deadpool#wade wilson#x 23#wade x logan#logan howlett#wolverine#poolverine#laura kinney#x men#X-men#X-23#Resi's Shorts
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halloooo muffin !! if its okay may i request how the dimitrescu daughters would act if reader said 'Is this seat taken?' and pointing to their lap as their doing what not that they enjoy? i had this thought when your inbox was closed and now that i see its open i had 2 ask ❤ ( also js a silly little thing right here but i hope ur doing well ! i love ur prompts 2 :3 )
Hi, hon! :) Awhh, of course! Using sum reactions again for this one XP I'm flattered! :) this one actually seems quite familiar too, but I didn't find the prompt on the Masterlists
Let's get into it!
Masterlists
Bela
You watch her as she works, her desk an organized mess
It's often like this, really
Bela's busy, and working, the majority of the time. And still, she loves to have you with her
Occaisonally, she looks up, her eyes either full of love, or a silent apology for working so much
You don't mind now, though, not when it means getting to spend time with her, in her office, where it's nice and quiet, warm and secluded
A bit of a paradise, to both of you, a breather
A break from the chaos that the castle can bring, and especially the chaos and trouble her younger sisters can cause her
Briefly, you only stay behind her, trailing your fingertips across the chair before your eyes find a much more comfortable spot: Bela's lap
You grin to yourself as you take in her thick, soft thighs, even with the dress on
Then, you turn to her side, allowing her to look up and look at you
"Is this seat taken?", you ask, but don't quite await her answer
Instead, she gasps in surprise when you suddenly sit down, but her surprise fades quick
Instead, she wraps her free arm around you and presses a kiss to your cheek, humming, utterly happy to feel you this close to her
In return, you get to sink against her
And while she isn't warm per say, she is rather soft
You make a mental note to bring her a blanket later on
Cassandra
Cassandra is...unused, to love and relationships and an actual partner, at best
Still, she likes to spend her time with you, hoping you enjoy it as much as she does
Often, this means doing things together, or being together while doing seperate things, such as now
She's sitting at the desk in her room, whereas you're on the bed, watching her for the time being
Her tongue is stuck out in concentration and her dark golden eyes are set entirely on the sickle in her hand as she sharpens it
Your eyes trail from her face to her shoulders, to her chest and down her arms and waist, until you spot her lap, instead
Often, it's full of weapons she's yet to clean, or even some she has cleaned and sharpened already
Not today, as you surprised by her cleaning her desk off properly and making space for her beloved weapons
You move slowly, feeling so comfortable in the warm room that you almost begin to feel tired
Then, you place your fingertip under her chin, giggling when she looks up at you with wide, questioning eyes
"Is this seat taken?", you hum, your eyes darting down to her lap
And briefly, you see the impact of your words on her, how her eyes widen a little and she moves her sickle aside silently, as if to make space for you
When you sit down, she looks positively flustered, her cheeks pink, her eyes wide, her lips parted a little
Her sickle is still held up mid-air, her arms seemingly frozen in place
She isn't quite sure what to do, almost utterly inexperienced with actual relationships, not ones purely consisting of pleasure and using one another's bodies, and such soft, loving acts
You don't mind, though, and only giggle at her when, at last, she closes her mouth again
And still,
the blush remains
Daniela
Daniela Dimitrescu
Your love bug
Cuddly, affectionate, flirty, playful, clingy, a tease
Big on touch, on kisses, on hugs, on sitting on one another’s lap
You watch her as she reads, sitting comfortably in the library, her eyes slipping shut occasionally after finishing a page, so utterly comfortable with your hands in her hair
You love spending time together like this
Besides, it’s utterly adorable how relaxed she gets like this
Then, when your legs ache a little too much, you get an idea
She whines when your fingers leave her hair, her golden eyes set on you
Then, you walk up in front of her, a playful smile on your lips as you point to her lap
“Is this seat taken?”, you ask, giggling when her cheeks adapt a soft, pink colour moments after
She nods wordlessly, but fast, a little caught off guard
Despite how flirty she is, she’s a little lost whenever you actually flirt back or tease her back
Or, in this case, simply fluster the sweet thing
When you sit, she automatically wraps her arms around you, a huge smile on her face, though her cheeks are warm and of a bright pink shade
When you kiss her, she’s momentarily too surprised to do much but gasp, but leans into you just a few moments after
Her legs bounce in excitement, but you don’t mind
When you cup her cheeks, she giggles
She doesn’t notice it when she drops her book, wrapping her arms around you instead
By now you know what this means; cuddling, kissing, holding one another
And you wouldn’t have it any other way
You find, she’s adorable
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Silent strain | part vii
outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader
previous part | next chapter
summary: Joel still holds on to the idea of giving you the world even though everything feels broken.
w.c: 9k>
warnings: angst, mentions of murder, mentions of death, panics attacks, fluff.
a/n: Hello! I have to be honest. I don't feel really connected to this story since I stopped thinking about it for 3 weeks. I don't know if this chapter makes sense at all. I went to my drafts and tried to join all the different ideas I had written for this chapter 😭 I didn't want to end this story here and there will be one more chapter 🥺 thanks for your patience and sorry for my outbursts. By the way thank you so much on all the love you had given to my marcus acacius fic that one was carefully written haha ✨ Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
For the last few days, the house had been quiet.
Unbearable quiet.
The air seemed to be charged with some kind of machiavellian aura. You could breathe the fear coming out your lungs mingling in it with it in some kind of joke. Because after a long time of surviving and doing everything, you could to arrive to a place where you could come to close your eyes at night without the fear of being murdered. The dream faded.
After a long time, you felt hopeless and scared.
After a long time, you had to face the imminent death of someone you loved.
Your biggest fear.
You had seen your sister died before your eyes when the world became mad. You saw Tess died sacrificed for you all, and now, you almost lost your daughter.
Joel hadn’t left your side since you were dismissed from the infirmary.
He had been watching you. At nights when you were finally sleeping, he kept himself awake just to see you sleep and making sure you were fighting your demons in your dreams.
It cut him deep in the heart to feel it, to hear it, and to acknowledge. The sight of you, every day in front of the window with your arms crossed around your middle as a shield from the outside broke his heart. Joel’s heart ached as he watched you, your usual force now cloaked in fear.
The soft light from this morning highlighted the bruise on your face, the purple and blue tones reminding the events that had happened just a few days ago. He hated it, the mark on your skin, the haunted look in your eyes, the way your hands shook no matter how tightly you tried to hold yourself together.
The ring he had given you laid on your finger, shining as the only light you could see during the clouding morning.
He hated this. He hated that someone had dared to put that mark on you, hated that he hadn’t been able to stop it before it happened. But more than anything, he hated seeing the fire in you dimmed, replaced by this trembling fear he didn’t recognize in you.
You had been holding Rosie close every day. The grip on her became almost desperate, like you were afraid she might slip away if you let go, and Joel’s chest tightened at the sight.
And the moments like this, when she was lost in sleeping dreaming about butterflies, you were gripping your arms around your middle, again and again.
Joel cleared his throat softly, not wanting to startle you, but enough to pull you from whatever dark thoughts were haunting you. “Hey,” he said, his voice low and gentle, like it was meant to keep the fragility of the moment intact. “You’re gonna wear a hole in that spot if you keep standin’ there.”
You glanced over your shoulder at him, the tiredness in your eyes making his stomach churn. But you didn’t speak, just offered a faint smile that didn’t quite reach your face before turning your gaze back out the window.
He stepped closer, his boots barely making a sound on the wooden floor. “Hey,” he said softer this time. “You’ve been standin’ there all mornin’. Come sit with me.”
“I don’t want to.” You replied, “I’m looking…whenever he comes back. I’m going to kill him.”
Joel’s breath caught in his throat at your words. The cold, steely tone in your voice sent a chill down his spine. It wasn’t just the anger, he’d seen you angry before, it was the edge of pain buried underneath it, sharp and raw.
He studied you for a moment, the way your jaw was clenched, your arms still wrapped tightly around yourself like you were holding something in. Joel sighed softly, stepping closer until he was right beside you, his hand brushing against your arm. “I know you’re hurtin’,” he said carefully. “I know you’re angry. Hell, I’m angry too- “
You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed on the horizon like you were waiting for some shadow to reappear. “He hurt her, Joel. Hurt Rosie. And he-” Your voice cracked, and you swallowed hard, fighting to keep it steady. “He tried to kill me.”
“I know,” Joel said, his voice heavy. He wanted to reach for you, to pull you into his arms, but he didn’t. Not yet. “And if it comes to it, I’ll be the one to handle it. You don’t gotta carry that on top of everythin’ else. That ain’t who you are anymore.”
Finally, you turned to him, your eyes blazing with a despair “You don’t get to tell me who I am, Joel,” you snapped, your voice trembling. “You think I don’t know what killing him means now that we are here? But do you think I care? He almost took Rosie from me. I can’t--I won’t let him get away with that.”
Joel’s jaw tightened, the weight of your words cutting into him. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a tenderness that contrasted the fire blazing for your words.
Tears welled in your eyes, and you looked away again, shaking your head. “I can’t sleep well, I can’t breathe, knowing he might come back.”
Joel’s hand moved to your shoulder, grounding you. “We’ll protect her,” he said firmly. “I’ll protect you. I swear to God, he’s not gonna hurt either of you again. I won’t allow that.”
You blinked and turned to look at him, your eyes glassy with tears. “I just... I can’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “If you hadn’t been there, Joel... if Paul had...”
Joel shook his head quickly, cupping your face gently, his thumb brushing over the unbruised side. “But he didn’t. I was there, and I’ll always be there. No one’s gonna hurt you or Rosie again, you hear me?”
Your lower lip quivered, but you nodded, the tears finally spilling over. “I feel so stupid. I’ve faced worse before, but now... I can’t even step outside without panicking.”
He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his chest, holding you as if he could shield you from the world. “You’re not stupid,” he said firmly.
You buried your face in his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him, and for the first time in days, you felt a flicker of safety amidst the storm. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you whispered.
Joel kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment. “You’ll never have to find out, darlin’. Never.”
“Never leave me, please” you whispered, your voice trembling as your eyes locked with his. The love in Joel’s gaze was overwhelming, deep and steady, like it could ground you even in the midst of your unraveling. In that moment, it felt as though he could heal every wound in the world just by looking at you like that.
He didn’t say anything right away, but his hands cupped your face gently, his thumbs brushing away the tears that clung to your skin. His touch was so tender, it almost broke you all over again.
“I’m here,” he said, his voice rough but steady. “Always. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
The weight of his words, the sheer promise in them, weakened you. You leaned in, pressing your lips to his with all the love, fear, and gratitude coursing through you. The kiss wasn’t hurried or frantic; it was deep, purposeful, filled with everything you couldn’t put into words.
Joel responded with equal intensity, his hands steadying you as if anchoring you to him. The kiss deepened, and you poured every single feeling you had for him into it, your love, your fear, your desperate need for him to know just how much he meant to you.
When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested on his neck. His eyes stayed on you, dark and filled with so much love it left you almost breathless.
“You are my world,” he murmured, his voice rough with honesty. “There ain’t nothin’ that’s ever gonna take me away from you.” He paused, “No Paul, not even Tommy” he said, finally allowing himself to be angry with his brother for not acting properly when you needed.
You smiled softly, your fingers lifted, tracing the familiar lines of his face. “You heal me, Joel,” you whispered. “In ways I didn’t think were possible.” You sighed, “I’ve slept just because you are by my side,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the vulnerability you rarely showed.
Joel's eyes softened at your confession, the lines of his face etched with worry and love. He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms securely around you, as if shielding you from everything outside your small, shared world.
“I’ll always be here,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “No one’s gonna hurt you again, not while I’m breathin’. And I’m not goin’ anywhere.” He tilted your chin up slightly, meeting your gaze with an intensity that both comforted and steadied you. “You believe me, don’t you?”
You nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek. “I do,” you whispered. “I just... I don’t want to lose you, Joel. Not again. You mean everything to me. Rosie and Ellie need you. I need you.”
His lips pressed into a firm line as he kissed your forehead, lingering there for a moment before speaking. “You won’t lose me. Not to this world, not to anyone.” His tone carried a weight of conviction that made you believe him, despite the dark corners of your mind that tried to tell you otherwise.
You let out a shaky breath, your fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt as if holding on to him could ground you further. “I love you,” you said, the words spilling out with a mix of desperation and relief.
Joel tightened his embrace, his hand cradling the back of your head. “I love you too, darlin’. More than I’ll ever be able to say.”
The days that followed, the tension between Joel and Tommy hung in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and unrelenting. The anger in Joel’s chest refused to leave and every time he thought about Paul, about what he had done to you, about Rosie crying in your arms, about Tommy and Maria’s insistence on letting him live because he was the most capable doctor in Jackson, made his blood boil.
Joel stayed distant, avoiding Tommy whenever he could. But the inevitable day came when Tommy finally showed up at your door.
The sound of footsteps outside was followed by a knock. You opened the door cautiously, seeing Tommy standing there, his posture tense, but his face holding a mix of determination and concern. He wasn’t going to let this go.
“Can we talk?” Tommy’s voice was low, almost pleading, as he stood at the threshold, not pushing any further without an invitation.
You glanced back at Joel, who stood in the corner of the room, his arms crossed, jaw clenched. His posture was rigid, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. You could feel the weight of his gaze on Tommy.
“You’re here now,” you said quietly, your gaze flicking between the two men. "Let’s just talk. It’s time to sort this out.”
Tommy looked at you, grateful for your willingness to listen, but then his eyes moved to Joel. “I’m not here to argue,” he said, his voice steady but carrying a hint of frustration. “I just want to make sure you both understand why I did what I did. Maria and I- we thought it was best for Jackson.”
Joel stepped forward then, his voice tight, filled with a simmering anger. “Best for Jackson?” he spat; his words heavy. “You think keeping Paul around is what's best? After what he did to my family? After what he did to her?” His gaze flicked to you, and his face twisted with pain and rage.
Tommy’s face faltered slightly, but he stood firm. “We can’t just murder people, Joel. We’ve got to think about the bigger picture here.”
“The bigger picture?” Joel’s voice broke through the silence, louder now. “The bigger picture is you letting him get away with what he did. You think a doctor’s skills are worth more than the safety of someone?”
You stepped in between the two men, your hand on Joel’s chest, trying to diffuse the tension that had only escalated. “Joel.” you said softly, your voice firm yet gentle.
Joel’s anger didn’t subside, but he took a deep breath, his gaze hardening as he met Tommy’s eyes. “I get it, Tommy. I do. I get you don’t kill people. But this is not about you or me. It’s About her, about Rosie.” He nodded toward you, his voice softer but still filled with that quiet fury. “You failed us, and I’m not gonna forget that.”
Tommy’s face tightened, but he didn’t flinch. “I’m not asking you to forget,” he said, his voice growing quiet, but steady. “I’m asking you to try to understand. I had to make a choice. And I’m sorry it hurt you. I didn’t want that. But we can’t just act on anger. It’ll destroy us all.”
The silence between them was heavy, the weight of their words hanging in the air. Joel’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the two brothers just stood there, glaring at each other. You could feel the tension in the room, the hurt, the unresolved conflict.
“I’m gonna kill him, Tommy” you say, leaving no room to even think about an answer. The words left your lips before you could even stop them. You meant it, if you were just speaking out of fear, anger, or something deeper. But in that moment, it felt real. It felt like the only thing that made sense.
Tommy’s face paled; his eyes wide in disbelief. He took a step back, as if your words had physically hit him.
“Don’t say that,” Tommy said, his voice shaky now. “You can’t mean that. No matter what Paul did, that’s not-” He looked to Joel, who stood silent, his jaw clenched tightly as his gaze fixed on you.
Joel’s expression didn’t soften. His eyes were filled with an intensity you knew all too well, but it wasn’t just anger anymore.
“I can’t let him hurt us again,” you continued, your voice steady. “Not after what he did. To me. To Rosie.” Your hands tightened into fists at your sides, the thought of what Paul done still fresh. “He can’t be allowed to walk away from this.”
“I get it. I know how much you hate him. How much you want to make him pay. But that’s not the way” he said, trying to open a door to your own feelings and make to see you beyond the anger.
You shook your head, the frustration bubbling up. “You don’t understand. You knew what he did and you did nothing to stop it.” You could feel the tears threatening to spill again, but you fought them back. “I can’t just let it go.”
Joel’s gaze softened at you, and he gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. The tenderness in his touch was a stark contrast to the rage that was building inside you.
“I don’t want you to become like him,” Joel whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “I don’t want you to lose yourself in this. You’re better than that.”
Tommy stood quietly behind Joel; his face pained. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but the words caught in his throat. He looked between you and Joel, his hands rising in a gesture of helplessness.
“Please,” Tommy said softly, the weight of his voice more sincere now. “I don’t want to lose you both. Not like this.”
There was a long silence, the tension between the three of you palpable. You could feel the storm brewing in your chest, the fury, the fear, and the loss. But looking at Joel, his eyes filled with that quiet, unshakable love, something in you began to still, just slightly.
“Joel…” You whispered, your voice cracking as you tried to hold onto your resolve. But the reality of the situation hit you, the sheer weight of everything that had happened.
Joel’s hand never left your cheek, and he pulled you closer, his body shielding you, his love steadying you. He didn’t need to say anything more. The silence spoke volumes, louder than any words ever could.
For the first time in days, the raw anger inside you began to dull, if only for a moment. And in that moment, you knew what he was trying to do.
keep you whole.
You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath as Joel held you, his strength grounding you in a way words never could. The storm within you hadn’t passed—it was still there, simmering—but his touch, his love, gave you a moment of clarity.
“I don’t know how to let this go,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Your fingers clung to the fabric of Joel’s shirt, desperate for something solid, something real. “I can still feel it, Joel. What he did. How he made me feel powerless. How he put our daughter at risk.”
Joel nodded, his jaw tightening as he pulled you closer. “I know, darlin’. I know.” His voice was thick with emotion, his own rage barely contained. “But you’re not powerless. You’ve got me. You’ve got Rosie. We’ll face this together. You don’t have to carry this alone.”
Tommy shifted uncomfortably in the background, his hands shoved into his pockets. He looked at the floor, at the walls, anywhere but directly at you. When he finally spoke, his voice was hesitant but firm. “Paul’s gone. I made sure of it. He’s not coming back here. He doesn’t get to hurt you or your family again.”
You opened your eyes, pulling away from Joel just enough to look at Tommy. “Gone where?” you asked, your tone sharp despite the exhaustion in your voice.
Tommy met your gaze, his face solemn. “Out of Jackson. Banished. He’s on his own now. That’s his punishment.”
It wasn’t enough. Not for you. But the flicker of guilt in Tommy’s eyes told you it was the best he could do under the circumstances.
“Banished?” Joel’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. “That’s supposed to make up for what he did? You think that’s justice, Tommy? Letting him walk away alive?”
Tommy winced but stood his ground. “It’s all I could do, Joel. You know that. Maria and I—”
“Maria.” Joel’s voice was laced with bitterness, his lips curling into a sneer. “Of course, Maria had a say in this. She always does.”
“Don’t do that,” Tommy shot back, his tone defensive. “Don’t make this about her. She’s trying to keep this place together, same as me.”
Joel shook his head, his grip on you tightening protectively. “This ain’t about Jackson. This is about family. And you sure as hell didn’t act like it when you let him off easy.”
The tension in the room thickened, the weight of Joel’s words pressing down on all of you. Tommy opened his mouth to respond but stopped himself, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I’m sorry,” he said finally, his voice low. “I didn’t mean to let you down. Either of you.”
You watched him carefully, the sincerity in his voice softening your anger but not extinguishing it. You leaned into Joel, your voice steady but quiet. “We needed you to protect us, Tommy. And you didn’t.”
Tommy’s face fell, and for a moment, he looked lost, like the younger brother Joel used to shield from the world. “I’ll do better,” he said after a pause. “I promise.”
Joel didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he looked down at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what you wanted. You gave him a small nod, your fingers brushing against his hand.
“Fine,” Joel said gruffly, his tone still heavy with distrust. “If he comes back, if he so much as looks in our direction, I won’t wait for you to make the call.”
Tommy nodded solemnly, knowing better than to argue. “He won’t,” he said. “I’ll make sure of it.”
With that, Tommy turned to leave, pausing at the door. “I meant what I said,” he added, looking back at both of you. “I’ll do better.”
Joel didn’t respond, his attention already back on you as the door clicked shut behind his brother. His hands cupped your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that had spilled during the heated exchange.
“You, okay?” he asked softly, his voice a stark contrast to the anger he’d directed at Tommy moments ago.
You nodded, though the ache in your chest lingered. “I will be,” you whispered, leaning into his touch. “As long as I have you.”
The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over Jackson as you stepped outside for the first time in days. The cool breeze felt foreign on your skin, and the familiar hum of life around the town was both comforting and unnerving. People moved about, their voices mingling in the air, but it didn’t take long for you to notice the glances, those fleeting, pity-filled looks that made your stomach twist.
Joel had left early for patrol, a reluctant decision that you’d seen weigh on him. Before leaving, he’d turned to Ellie, handing her the silent responsibility of looking out for you. She had protested initially, grumbling about not being a babysitter, but her eyes had softened when she looked at you. Joel knew, as did you, that Ellie’s sharp wit and unwavering loyalty were exactly what you needed to ground yourself amidst the whispers of the town.
“Come on,” Ellie said now, falling into step beside you. “Let’s go to the stables. I think is time to introduce you to Shimmer.”
You gave her a small smile, grateful for her enthusiasm. “Think so? I haven’t exactly been good company lately.”
“Don’t start with that,” Ellie replied, her tone firm but not unkind. “People in this place don’t know what they’re talking about half the time. Who cares what they think? You’re way tougher than any of them.”
Her words stirred something in you, a small flicker of strength you hadn’t felt in days. “Thanks, Ellie.”
She shrugged, her usual smirk returning. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get all mushy on me.”
The two of you made your way through Jackson, the familiar paths slowly feeling less daunting with Ellie by your side. She talked about anything and everything, her rambling stories pulling you away from the stares and murmurs. By the time you reached the stables, you almost felt like yourself again.
As you ran your fingers along Shimmer’s mane, Ellie leaned against the stall door, watching you with an expression that was rare for her, soft and patient.
“Y’know,” she started, her voice quieter now, “Joel worries about you a lot.”
You nodded, your hand still brushing against the horse. “I know he does. I worry about him, too.”
Ellie hesitated, as if weighing her next words carefully. “You don’t have to be okay all the time. It’s fine if you’re not. But...you’re important to him. And to me. So, if you need anything, just...say it, okay?”
The lump in your throat was back, but this time it wasn’t from fear or sadness. It was gratitude, pure and simple. You turned to Ellie, her usual tough exterior softened just enough to let her sincerity shine through.
“Thank you, Ellie,” you said, your voice steady. “For everything.”
She grinned, her cocky demeanor sliding back into place. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t mention it. Now let’s get moving before Joel gets back and freaks out because you’re not at the house.”
You laughed softly, the sound surprising both of you. For the first time, you felt like you were taking a step, however small, toward reclaiming the part of yourself that Paul had tried to steal.
Joel would come home later, his expression softening the moment he saw you standing in the kitchen, Ellie at your side, and Rosie cooing softly in your arms. The sight of you holding her, your face showing a glimmer of the strength he had always admired, eased the tension in his chest.
“Hey,” he said, his voice low and warm as he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. His gaze lingered on you, taking in the small smile that graced your lips as you bounced Rosie gently.
“Hey,” you replied, meeting his eyes. There was still a shadow of everything you’d been through, but there was also something more—hope.
Rosie reached out a tiny hand toward Joel, her soft babbles filling the room as she wriggled excitedly. Joel couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he walked over, pressing a gentle kiss to her head before turning his attention back to you.
“You been good today?” he asked, his hand coming to rest on your waist, grounding you in that quiet, unshakable way only he could.
“I’ve been okay,” you admitted, glancing at Ellie. “Ellie made sure I didn’t completely lose it.”
“Damn right I did,” Ellie said with a smirk, though her tone was laced with affection. “You should thank me. I could’ve let her go feral.”
Joel chuckled, his fingers brushing your cheek. “Thanks, kid. Knew I could count on you.”
Ellie shrugged, playing it cool, though her smile betrayed her pride. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get sappy on me.”
Rosie giggled in your arms, her tiny hands now tugging at Joel’s shirt. He let out a low laugh, taking her from you and cradling her against his chest.
“You been keepin’ your mama company, huh?” he murmured to Rosie, his tone soft as she babbled in response.
You watched the two of them, a warmth spreading through your chest. Despite everything, despite the weight of the past days, there was this, your family. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t easy, but it was yours.
And as Joel wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close while still holding Rosie, you realized that no matter how rocky the road ahead was, you’d face it together.
Later that night, the house had settled into a calm quiet. You and Joel were in your bedroom, the soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminating the space. Joel sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair while you folded Rosie’s tiny clothes, setting them neatly in a small basket by the dresser.
A knock on the door broke the silence.
“Come in,” you called, glancing up to see Ellie poking her head inside.
“Just wanted to say goodnight,” she said casually, but the softness in her eyes revealed more.
You smiled warmly, setting down the clothes. “Goodnight, Ellie. Thank you for today.”
Ellie waved a hand, brushing off your gratitude. “It was nothing. Just, you know… don’t go all weird again, okay? Makes me feel like I gotta be responsible or somethin’.”
Joel chuckled from his spot on the bed, his gruff voice carrying a note of fondness. “You’re plenty responsible, kid. More than you give yourself credit for.”
Ellie scoffed but didn’t argue. Instead, she gave you a small smile, her gaze lingering on you for a moment. “Night, guys.”
“Goodnight, Ellie,” you and Joel said in unison, watching as she closed the door behind her.
The room fell quiet again, the air filled with a comfortable stillness. Joel shifted, standing to walk over to where you stood. His hands settled on your waist, his touch firm but gentle.
“Got somethin’ I wanna ask you,” he said, his voice low.
You looked up at him, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “What is it?”
Joel took a deep breath, his eyes scanning your face as if searching for the right words. “You know… maybe we could…” He paused, seeming almost unsure, then continued, his voice quiet but filled with a flicker of hope. “Maybe we could find a farm. Somethin’ out there, for us to live together. Rosie could grow up there, maybe Ellie could come too.”
A small smile crept onto your face, the idea warming something deep within you. The thought of a place away from the constant need to survive, a place where Rosie could learn what it meant to grow up safely, it was more than you’d ever thought to hope for.
You squeezed Joel’s hand, meeting his eyes. “I’d love that,” you murmured, imagining the life you could have together on that farm. “But maybe… let’s give Rosie a bit more time. Let her grow a little. She’s just starting to get to know this world, and Jackson’s safe for now.”
Joel’s face softened; his eyes filled with a warmth that made you feel completely at home. “Yeah,” he said, nodding thoughtfully. “Ain’t no rush. Just… it’s good to have somethin’ to look forward to. Somethin’ better for her. For us.”
You leaned into him, letting the silence settle over you, both of you holding onto that shared vision. A little farm, a life of peace, a future beyond the fight, one that you could finally believe in.
“Wherever you go, I’ll follow you, Joel. Always.”
He let out a breath, his shoulders easing, and a quiet smile formed on his face. “Guess I’m the luckiest damn fool in this world, then.”
His words made you smile, and you closed the small space between you, resting your head on his shoulder as his arms wrapped around you. The warmth of his embrace felt like the safest place in a world that had taken so much, yet somehow, you had found each other. And that was more than either of you had ever thought to hope for.
His lips brushed over your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, each kiss tender and deliberate, as though he wanted to mark every part of you with the love he felt.
“We’re gonna get married,” he repeated, his voice low but steady, as if speaking it aloud made it more real. His fingers traced soft circles on your back, his touch reassuring and protective. “Then we’ll make that farm happen. A place for Rosie, for us. Maybe some chickens, a couple of goats. We’ll figure it all out.”
You laughed softly, the sound light in the quiet room. “Chickens and goats, huh? You planning on becoming a farmer, Miller?”
“Don’t see why not,” he said with a small grin, his eyes twinkling with a rare spark of humor. “Figure I can learn, long as you’re by my side.”
Your hand came up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your palm. “That sounds perfect.”
His gaze softened, his arms tightening around you.
You smiled, lifting your head to look at him fully. “Dream as much as you want. Just know that wherever you go, I’ll be right there with you. Always.”
His jaw clenched slightly, emotion flickering across his face before he leaned in, pressing a deep, lingering kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.
“You’re my whole damn world,” he said quietly, his voice thick with sincerity. “Now get some sleep, baby. You deserve it,” Joel murmured, his voice soft and soothing as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.
You felt the exhaustion finally catching up, the weight of everything settling down now that you were safe, here in his arms. His hand traced gentle circles on your back, a calming rhythm that lulled you closer to sleep.
With your eyes closing, you whispered, “I love you, Joel.”
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his voice a low, comforting rumble. “I love you, too. Now rest. I’ve got you.”
And with those words, you let yourself drift, knowing that, for once, everything was exactly where it needed to be.
A few weeks later, the world outside your home didn’t seem as suffocating as it once had. You found yourself stepping out more often, though each time felt like a small battle. The whispers of pity had dulled into occasional glances, but you didn’t care much anymore. What mattered was reclaiming pieces of yourself, the parts that had been shaken to their core.
Joel had noticed the shift in you. It wasn’t just bravery returning; it was something darker. There was a hunger in your eyes, a quiet, burning thirst for vengeance. He didn’t need to ask to know what you were thinking. He had seen it in the way your grip tightened on your gun when you joined him on patrol for the first time, in the way your eyes scanned the horizon as though searching for someone. Searching for him.
Paul.
“I don’t know if this is the best idea,” Joel had murmured that morning, watching you strap on your gear with determination. Rosie was with Ellie, safe and sound, but Joel couldn’t shake the unease in his gut.
“I need this, Joel,” you replied firmly, your voice leaving no room for argument. “I can’t sit in that house anymore, feeling helpless. I need to do something.”
Joel hesitated, but he couldn’t deny you. He knew the feeling of needing to act, of needing to take back control. So, he let you come, though he kept a protective eye on you every second.
Now, as the two of you rode along a quiet path outside Jackson, the sun dipping low in the sky, you felt the weight of your riffle against your shoulders, silent reminder of the decision you’d already made in your heart. If Paul was out here, if by some chance you found him, you wouldn’t hesitate. You couldn’t.
Joel glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his jaw tight. “You’ve been quiet,” he said, his voice low.
You turned to him, your expression guarded. “Just thinking.”
“About what?” he pressed gently, though he already had a good idea.
You hesitated before answering, your fingers gripping the reins of your horse a little tighter. “About what I’d do if I saw him out here.”
Joel’s hand twitched on his own reins, his eyes narrowing slightly. “And what’s that?” he asked, his tone careful.
You looked straight ahead, your voice unwavering. “I’d finish what he started.”
Joel’s breath hitched, and he pulled his horse to a stop, forcing you to do the same. He turned to face you fully, his expression a mix of frustration and concern. “You really think that’s gonna fix this? Killing him?”
“It’ll fix the part of me that still wakes up at night hearing Rosie cry,” you shot back, your voice sharper than you intended. “The part of me that can’t shake the image of him grabbing her, hurting her.”
Joel’s face softened, but his eyes remained steady on yours. “I get it,” he said quietly. “God, I get it more than you know. But that path? It doesn’t end. You take that step, and it stays with you. Forever.”
You swallowed hard, his words hitting deeper than you wanted to admit. “You’ve done it,” you whispered. “You’ve done what needed to be done.”
“And it’s carved pieces outta me I’ll never get back,” Joel said, his voice rough with emotion. “Pieces I don’t want you to lose, too. Not when I’ve fought like hell to keep you whole.”
“Have I ever told you about how my sister really died?” You asked, stopping on your tracks.
Joel froze at your words, his brows knitting together as he watched you. The rawness in your voice, the way your shoulders tensed, told him this wasn’t something you’d ever shared before, not with him, not with anyone.
“You don’t have to-” Joel started, but you cut him off, your tone firm yet fragile.
“No, I do,” you said, gripping the reins tightly, your knuckles white. “If I don’t say it now, I don’t think I ever will.”
Joel dismounted his horse without a word, grounding himself on the dirt path, his full attention on you. He didn’t try to stop you again. He knew you well enough to know that this was something you needed to let out.
You took a shaky breath, your eyes fixed on the horizon. “She wasn’t just sick,” you began, your voice trembling. “She didn’t die because we ran out of medicine or supplies. She died because someone decided her life wasn’t worth saving.”
Joel’s jaw clenched, his fists curling at his sides as he listened, his heart sinking at the pain in your voice.
“We were desperate, starving. I’d gone to trade what little we had for anything that could help her, food, medicine, something. But the man… he said no. Said it wasn’t worth it for someone who was already on their way out. I begged him, Joel. I begged him with everything I had.” Your voice broke, tears threatening to spill as the memory clawed its way back. “He just walked away.”
Joel took a step closer, his chest tightening at the sight of you, so strong yet so broken by the weight of the past.
“When I got back, she was already gone,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “And I’ve hated myself ever since for not doing more. For not forcing him to help her. For not-” You stopped, your breath hitching as tears slipped down your cheeks.
Joel reached for you then, his hands gently cupping your face, pulling you to him. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said firmly, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “You did everything you could. Don’t carry that blame, not for a second.”
“You looked up at him, your tears reflecting the fading light. “She was Ellie’s age, and I’ve carried it every day, Joel. And now, with Paul... I can’t let him walk away like that man did. I can’t let him think he can take something so precious from me and just go on living.”
Joel’s gaze softened, his thumb brushing away your tears. “I understand,” he said, his voice low and unwavering. “More than you know. But listen to me, you’re not the same person you were back then. And this time, you’re not alone. You have me. You have Rosie. Ellie. We’ll make it through this together, but not like this. Not by lettin’ that hatred eat away at you.”
You let out a shaky breath, his words sinking in, though the fire inside you still burned. Joel leaned his forehead against yours, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please, don’t let him take any more from you than he already has. Don’t let him steal the light I see in you every day.”
“If it has to be done,” Joel paused, “It’s gonna be me the one to do it for you.” He finally said.
You stared at him, your breath catching in your throat as the gravity of his promise hit you. His hands remained steady on you, grounding you, while his eyes held that unyielding intensity, a mixture of love, pain, and determination.
“Joel,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I don’t want you carrying that. Not for me.”
His jaw clenched, and he shook his head slightly. “It ain’t about what I want to carry,” he said firmly. “It’s about what I won’t let you carry. You don’t deserve to live with that weight, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it off you.”
Your heart ached at the sheer depth of his devotion. You reached up, your hand resting on his cheek, feeling the familiar scruff beneath your palm. “You think I can’t live with it, but I’m not sure I can live with you doin’ it either,” you admitted, your voice cracking.
Joel exhaled sharply, his forehead pressing harder against yours. “I know you’re stronger than you think, darlin’. But I also know what it’s like to live with somethin’ like that. I won’t let it twist you up inside. You’re the one thing in my life that’s still pure. You are carrying my secret already.”
The weight of his words settled over you like a blow. Your hand faltered slightly against his cheek.
“You’re carrying the only thing I can’t tell Ellie yet” he murmured, his voice thick with unspoken emotion.
“Ellie’s carryin’ that guilt without even knowin’,” Joel said, his voice cracking. “And you’re carryin’ my guilt. I see it in your eyes, darlin’. You’re strong enough to hold it, but it doesn’t mean you should have to and I can’t let you to carry this responsibility.”
Tears welled in your eyes as you cupped his face, your hands trembling. “Joel,” you breathed.
He shook his head slightly, his forehead brushing against yours as if he couldn’t bear to pull away. “That’s my burden to bear,” he said quietly. “Not yours. Not Ellie’s. You didn’t ask for this, darlin’. I brought it to you, just like I brought so much else.”
Your hands steadied on his face, thumbs gently tracing the lines etched deep from years of pain and survival. “You think I can’t handle it,” you said, your voice soft but firm, “but I can. Joel, I’m not breaking under this. You’re not dragging me down—you’re keeping me standing. We’re carrying this together, even if you can’t see that yet.”
His eyes closed briefly, his breath shuddering as he let your words settle over him. “I just…” He exhaled, shaking his head as if trying to push away the weight of his guilt. “I just don’t want to lose the parts of you that make me believe there’s still good in this world. You’re my light, darlin’. I can’t let this world take that away from you like it’s taken so much from me.”
You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “You’ve lost pieces of yourself to protect the people you love, Joel. But you didn’t lose your heart. You didn’t lose the ability to care, to love. That’s what I see every day. That’s why I love you.”
Joel’s hands slid up to cradle your face, his eyes glassy as he gazed at you. “You make me wanna believe we can have somethin’ better. You and Rosie… Ellie…” He trailed off, his voice cracking under the weight of emotion.
“And we will,” you whispered, your own tears slipping down your cheeks.
For a moment, the room was filled with the quiet hum of your shared breath, the weight of Joel’s secret and his pain hanging between you like a fragile thread. Then, as if finally surrendering to the truth in your words, he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you tightly.
“I’ll do my best,” he murmured, his voice muffled against your hair. “But I’ll never stop tryin’ to protect you. That’s who I am. That’s who I’ll always be.”
You nodded against him, your own arms wrapping around his waist as you clung to him. “And I’ll protect you, too, Joel. Always.”
……………………………………….
The next morning, you woke to the quiet sounds of the house, birds singing outside, the soft rustling of the wind through the trees. But as you blinked awake, a familiar sense of unease settled deep in your chest. You turned to find Joel already up, getting dressed in his patrol gear, his movements steady and practiced.
But there was something about the way he moved this morning, something that made your stomach twist. The sense of calm you’d felt the night before had faded with the dawn, replaced by a gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach.
You sat up in bed, rubbing your eyes, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling that lingered. “Joel,” you called softly, watching as he fastened his boots.
He turned toward you, his expression softening when he saw you awake. “Mornin’,” he said with a small smile, though there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place.
You frowned, pushing the blankets aside as you slowly got to your feet. “You got patrol?”
Joel nodded, adjusting the straps on his jacket. “Yeah. Gotta keep an eye on things, make sure no one’s out there stirring up trouble.”
The unease inside you only deepened as you stood there, watching him. You wanted to say something, to voice the feeling that gnawed at you, but it was hard to put into words. You’d been through so much together, and you knew the risks. But there was something in the air this morning, something different.
“Be careful,” you finally said, your voice low. You moved closer, your eyes searching his face. “Please.”
Joel’s eyes softened at your concern, and he reached out to touch your arm gently, his fingers warm against your skin. “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll be fine. I’ve done this a hundred times.”
“I know,” you murmured, but the unease refused to leave you. It settled deep, a cold weight you couldn’t shake. “It’s just… I don’t know. I have a bad feeling, Joel.”
He gave you a reassuring smile, though there was a glimmer of something in his eyes that made you wonder if he was hiding something. “You’re just gettin’ anxious, that’s all. Ain’t nothing to worry about.”
You didn’t believe him, but you didn’t press further. He could see it in your face, the doubt, the fear, but he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he leaned down to kiss your forehead.
“Look, I’ll be back before you know it. And I’ll be careful, promise. I told Ellie to check on you when I get out there. Everything’s gonna be fine.”
You nodded, though the worry still clung to you, heavy in your chest. You watched him grab his rifle and head for the door, your heart tightening as the unease only deepened.
“Come back safe,” you whispered, though he was already out the door, the sound of it closing behind him leaving you with nothing but the silence of the house.
The day passed in a haze; your every step weighed down by the gnawing feeling in your chest. Rosie was a constant, her small hands gripping onto your fingers as you walked through the house, but even her giggles and soft coos couldn’t shake the sense of dread that clung to you.
You tried to keep busy, shifting from one task to the next, preparing food, tidying up, organizing things in a way that felt normal. But it wasn’t normal. It wasn’t right. Your thoughts kept drifting back to Joel, to the way he’d left this morning, and to that unsettling feeling that something was going to happen.
Rosie’s tiny laugh broke through your thoughts, and you turned to her, forcing a smile as she looked up at you with her bright, innocent eyes. “What’s so funny, huh?” you whispered, leaning down to kiss the top of her head, but the sensation of unease lingered, like a shadow you couldn’t outrun.
You carried her around the house, humming softly to calm her, but the tension inside you only seemed to grow. You tried to focus on the present, on her needs, but your mind kept returning to Joel, to the patrol, to the feeling of something wrong.
You spent hours moving through the motions, your hands busy with Rosie, but your mind was somewhere else. You couldn’t shake the weight of the silence. Even the usual comfort of Jackson, the rhythm of life, the sense of safety felt distant. You wanted to believe that Joel would come home safely, that everything would be fine, but every part of you felt like it was bracing for something.
Every time you heard a sound outside, whether it was the wind brushing through the trees or footsteps in the distance, you jumped, your heart hammering in your chest. You knew it wasn’t rational, but the dread wouldn’t leave.
You glanced at the window once more, eyes scanning the horizon. The day stretched on, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of being stuck in limbo, waiting for something you couldn’t see or name, but could feel settling deeper into your bones.
By the time the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the house, your nerves were frayed, the silence between you and Rosie growing thicker. She had fallen asleep in your arms, her little breaths gentle against your chest, but even her calmness couldn’t settle your mind.
You tried to push everything aside, focusing on her, but as the evening wore on, the darkness began to close in. The sounds of Jackson, usually comforting, seemed muted, everything felt distant, like you were separated from the world outside, and the only thing that existed was the growing ache inside you.
You forced yourself to sit down on the couch with Rosie, running your fingers through her hair, trying to lull her back to sleep. But all you could hear in the back of your mind was the warning, something was wrong, and you couldn’t ignore it.
The clock ticked on, and the hours seemed to stretch impossibly long. Joel should’ve been home by now.
Your eyes drifted to the door, and for the hundredth time, you found yourself wondering if he was okay. You could feel the weight of the night pressing down on you, the silence now suffocating, and no matter how hard you tried to focus on Rosie, the bad feeling wouldn’t let go.
You couldn’t ignore it anymore.
And then, it came, the knock at the door.
The sound shattered the quiet like a thunderclap, and your heart leaped into your throat. For a split second, you stood frozen, staring at the door as the sound of it echoed in your chest.
Rosie stirred slightly in your arms, her small body shifting against you, but you didn’t move, didn’t speak. The knock came again, more urgent this time, and it felt like the world was holding its breath.
You slowly set Rosie down on the couch, her sleepy gaze not yet aware of the tension in the room. You walked toward the door, each step heavy, your mind racing with possibilities, none of them good.
When you finally reached the door, you hesitated for just a moment, your hand resting on the cold metal of the doorknob. Your chest tightened with each breath, and you could almost feel the weight of whatever was about to happen bearing down on you.
With a swift motion, you swung the door open.
Standing on the other side was a familiar figure, one you didn’t want to see right now. Tommy’s face was grim, his posture stiff and anxious. The second his eyes landed on you, he froze, his expression darkening further.
You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady, but it trembled nonetheless.
“Where’s Joel?” The question was simple, but it felt like it would crush you to ask it out loud.
Tommy looked down, unable to meet your gaze, his lips pressed into a thin line. His silence was enough. You could feel your chest tightening, your breath coming shallow.
“Tommy…” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You needed to know, needed to hear him say it wasn’t what you feared. But the way he held himself, the way he refused to look at you directly, it told you everything you needed to know.
“He’s… he’s not coming back right now,” Tommy said, his words falling like a weight in the room.
Your breath caught, a sharp, cold wave crashing over you. “What happened?” you forced out, each syllable like a blade.
Tommy’s jaw tightened, and he glanced over his shoulder as if searching for something he couldn’t find. “He… got caught up in a situation. We’re trying to find him, but-” He stopped himself, eyes flicking to the ground. “He wasn’t alone.”
Your heart skipped a beat. You barely heard him over the rush of panic flooding your mind. You reached out for the doorframe to steady yourself, the cold wood grounding you as everything else around you seemed to blur.
“Where is he?” you managed to ask, barely able to hold back the tremble in your voice.
Tommy looked at you, his eyes softening with regret, and then he finally spoke the words you were dreading to hear. “I don’t know yet. But we’re looking. We’re gonna bring him back.”
But it didn’t feel like enough. Not nearly enough.
The dread you’d felt all day was now a full-on tidal wave crashing through you. And the silence between you and Tommy stretched on, thick and suffocating, as your world began to unravel again.
You looked at Tommy, but his expression was distant, haunted by the same dread that clung to your own heart. His eyes were hard and red, but there was a flicker of something beneath them, something that looked like guilt, like he had already resigned himself to the possibility of losing Joel. And you couldn’t bear that. You couldn’t let it be true.
The world around you seemed to fade away, the noises of Jackson growing muffled, distant. It was just you and that empty space in your chest.
Where is he? Why can’t they find him?
“Please,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath. “He can’t be-he can’t be gone.”
Tommy’s silence was enough of an answer. You felt your knees go weak beneath you, your vision blurring, and for a moment, the world seemed to close around you. You barely caught yourself against the nearby wall, your body trembling violently as a cold sweat broke out across your skin.
“No”you gasped, shaking your head. “No... No, no, no...”
Everything around you shifted, the edges of reality blurring like the melting colors of a fading drawing. The walls seemed to warp, stretch. Your breath was quick and shallow, heart pounding in your chest.
Tommy’s voice reached you, but it felt like it was coming from miles away. “We’re gonna bring him back,” he repeated. But his words felt wrong, distant. The hollow tone of them echoed in your mind.
And then it all snapped into place.
A flash of bright light, too bright. A sharp pain in your chest. Joel’s face. Blood. The unmistakable scent of the forest. A scream, raw and panicked, splitting through the air.
You felt yourself falling, your vision spinning. The world kept shifting, twisting in strange angles you hadn’t seen before. Memories of Joel, his soft brown eyes, his smile, his touch. They all merged into one blurry mess, until they were impossible to separate. You reached out instinctively, your hands clawing at the air. But there was nothing there to hold on to. Just emptiness.
Was it real? Was he really gone?
A jolt of pain sliced through your head, and you gasped, your whole body seizing with terror. You could hear your voice, but it was distant, like someone else was screaming your name, calling for you to wake up.
"Wake up!"
Your eyes snapped open.
The room was still. The silence was deafening. Your chest heaved, each breath sharp and jagged as you fought to understand where you were. Everything felt wrong, like it didn’t belong. The cool air caressed your face with calloused fingertips.
You were still in your room.
But where was Joel?
Was he really-?
You turned, heart drumming against your ribcage as your eyes scanned the room, your pulse ringing in your ears. And there he was. Joel. Alive. But he wasn’t moving. His form was just an indistinct shadow in the moonlight, still and silent as the night itself.
Your breath caught in your throat as you reached for him, hands trembling.
“Joel?”
You whispered his name, too afraid to speak louder, afraid that it would shatter the fragile illusion you were holding on to. Your hands brushed against his arm, and the relief that flooded you was instant.
His skin was warm. He was real.
But as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you noticed something odd.
Joel wasn’t looking at you.
The way his body was turned, half-covered by the shadows, the slow rise and fall of his chest... it wasn’t like him. Something felt off.
And then the silence broke. His breathing was ragged, strained.
Your heart stopped in your chest.
A voice, barely a whisper, weak and broken. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."
And with that, everything slipped once again.
Was it real? Was this a nightmare you hadn’t woken from yet?
You couldn’t tell anymore.
Tags 💌: @jasminedragoon @orcasoul @missladym1981 @hiroikegawa @eleganthottubfun @lumpypoll @cuteanimalmama @thespookywookies @goodvibesonly421 @karaslqve @greenwitchfromthewoods @somedayheaven @bambisweethearts @joelsteinfeld @guelyury @biapascal @picketniffler @mrsyixingunicorn10 @httpvomitello @kulekehe @callmecath1 @persephone-girl @colmiillo @pedroswife69 @keileighr @capswife @fallout-girl219 @sullyselena @cymbalta-slut @my-tearsricochet
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Love's Second Chance: A Holiday Reunion - Chapter 6
Summary: Negan gets a proper introduction to Y/N's children, attempting to get to know them. Joel finds out about it and he's not too happy to hear about the time that his children are spending with the man from his past.
Characters: Negan Smith, the reader (OC), Joel Miller, Elizabeth, Peter, etc.
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60501985/chapters/155201419
Warnings: Swearing, angst, bickering, dirty talk, etc.
Notes: Thanks again to those that read the story. This chapter has both boys in it again. I think they are both in most of the chapters from here on out.
“Hello?” Elizabeth’s voice called out when she entered her mother’s home. Instead of just barging in like she had done the night before, Elizabeth wanted to make her presence known. Thankfully when she entered the home she lived at with her mother, the Christmas decorations were lit up alerting her to the fact that her mother was most likely awake. It was morning and something smelled incredible. Moving further into the house, she entered the kitchen to see Negan and her mother making breakfast together laughing. Just seeing the two of them like that had Elizabeth stepping back. With how happy the two of them looked it reminded her of what her parents had been like when she was little. It had been a long time since she saw her mother laugh like that. Negan was behind her mother, his arms reaching around her to help her finish whatever they were cooking. An uneasy breath fell from her throat when Negan stole a quick kiss from her mother. “Mom?”
“Oh hey honey,” Y/N was surprised to see her daughter, turning to face her to show that she was still wearing her pajamas. Negan was in a pair of gray sweatpants and a black tank top that Elizabeth assumed used to be her father’s that her mother loaned him. She didn’t know how she felt about that. “We were making breakfast for all of us.”
It had been a long time since she had seen her parents making breakfast together like that. Smiling, laughing and working together. It was shocking to see and what was even more mind blowing was how happy her mother looked with Negan. For that small moment she remembered what it was like when she was young with her mom and dad, but it had been a long time since they had been that happy together.
“Hey kiddo,” Negan nodded over toward the kitchen table where scrambled eggs and some fresh fruit were already prepared. “We’re making the sausage gravy right now and the biscuits will be out of the oven in a minute.”
“I didn’t know you could bake and cook,” Elizabeth gazed upon Negan who gave her a cheesy, big smile.
“There are a lot of things that you probably don’t know,” Negan winked, going back to working on what he was doing on the stove. “I like to be a man of mystery sometimes. It keeps things interesting.”
“He says that, but once you get him talking, he won’t shut up,” Y/N teased, reaching out to poke at Negan’s ribs. It had him laughing, arching away from her and Elizabeth was surprised how quickly these two seemed to be at ease with one another. A loud snort fell from Negan which involuntarily made Elizabeth laugh. “See, he’s no heartthrob. He’s just a massive dork.”
“I’m heavily offended,” Negan asserted, placing his hand in over his chest to feign being hurt by the comment. Looking back at Elizabeth again, Negan nodded his head about dramatically. “Actually, your mom is right. I have a big mouth and I talk way too much. I just tried to keep my private life away from the public. No baseball fan wants to hear that their favorite player loves to bake.”
“You’d be surprised,” Elizabeth commented, stepping forward to look at the things that Negan and her mother were working on. “Do you need some help with something?”
“We’re almost done here. Unless you want to grab some juice from the fridge for everyone?” Y/N asked of her daughter, stepping forward to place a quick kiss at her daughter’s temple.
With a nod, Elizabeth went to grab some glasses. Putting them on the table, she spun on her heel to go for the refrigerator. Stopping, she looked back again hearing Negan humming a song out loud. Watching the two of them together had a lot of mixed emotions flooding through Elizabeth. Elizabeth had only met Negan last night and he was a stranger to her. Just someone she grew up watching on the television. But with her mother? It looked like Negan had known her for a lifetime with how comfortable they were together. Playfully Negan nudged Y/N with his hip and it had her giggling.
Shaking off the feeling that she was experiencing, Elizabeth opened the fridge and grabbed the juice. Closing the door after she pulled it out, she headed back for the table and poured some into each glass. Setting the bottle at the center, she then headed to take a seat for herself.
“Are you okay with me cutting open the biscuits and putting the sausage gravy on top of them?” Negan confirmed with Elizabeth, looking back at her with his big hazel eyes. Quickly she nodded clearing her throat uneasily when he went back to finishing things up.
It seemed like Negan did her plate first and handed it to Y/N to give to her before going back to working on the last two plates. Y/N carried the plate over to the table, scooping some of the scrambled eggs out of the serving bowl that was at the center of the table. And then went to grab two regular pieces of sausage for Elizabeth.
“I don’t mind doing that,” Elizabeth offered, holding her hand out. There was a bit of color in Elizabeth’s face and it made Y/N smile that her daughter was embarrassed.
“I’m sorry sweetheart, I’m just used to being your mother and taking care of you,” Y/N lowered the plate down for Elizabeth to finish gathering what she wanted. Pushing the individual bowl of fresh fruit closer to Elizabeth, Y/N also put the other two bowls where her and Negan would be sitting.
“Oh! Don’t forget about the blueberry muffins we made,” Negan snapped his fingers pointing toward the blueberry muffins that were cooling on the counter. It made Elizabeth smile when she realized how big this breakfast was turning out to be.
“You didn’t have to do all of this for me,” Elizabeth stated and it made Negan’s eyebrows bounce up when he turned to face them holding his and Y/N’s plates in his hands.
“I was just really hungry,” Negan insisted with another big, cheeky smile moving toward the table to set the plates down. Turning back, he grabbed some of the muffins and set them at the center of the table. “I’ve already eaten two of these and trust me, they are better when they are warm. So I’d have one if I were you.”
Nodding, Elizabeth reached out to grab one of the muffins to set it beside her plate. Noticing the way that Y/N was smiling at Negan when he took his time sitting down still was weird for Elizabeth. It was nice seeing her mother happy, but this was new and this was fast.
Starting off with the muffin, Elizabeth took a bite of it and was pleasantly surprised how good it tasted. Then again, her mother was always a good baker so she wasn’t sure how much of it was Negan and how much of it was Y/N.
Swallowing down her food, Elizabeth looked between Y/N and Negan while she poked at her food, “I don’t want to sound rude or ungrateful, but do you mind if I ask the both of you what is going on here?”
“Breakfast?” Negan spoke with a mouthful of one of the blueberry muffins that he had grabbed. Even if she didn’t want to laugh, there was something about the facial expression that Negan had that made her giggle.
“That’s…that’s not what I mean,” Elizabeth tried to hold herself together at how simply put Negan said that. Setting her fork down, Elizabeth knew that this was something that was actually important so she wanted to give the two of them her full attention in this moment. “I mean between the two of you. I only just found out the other day that the two of you were really good friends. And then suddenly Negan Smith is in our home and the two of you look like something out of a romance film.”
That comment had both Negan and Y/N looking to each other. Color flooded into Y/N’s face and a smirk tugged at Negan’s handsome features, “Are the two of you dating?”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Y/N looked to Negan who was allowing her to answer the questions since Elizabeth was her daughter. “We just had a date last night and the two of us are enjoying being around each other right now. Negan is only going to be here for the holidays and we…”
“Missed each other,” Negan finished for Y/N with a charming smile that made some color flood into Elizabeth’s cheeks. Hearing them talking about each other like that was pretty hard to comprehend and take in for her. “I understand how this could be uncomfortable for you Liz and if you have any questions about me…or us…I’m willing to answer them.”
“What did you call me?” Elizabeth demanded with Negan’s long eyelashes fluttering. Looking to Y/N, Negan seemed to panic before looking back again. “Did you call me Liz?”
“Your mother said you wanted to be called Liz when we were talking about you last night. I just thought…” Negan stuttered, clearing his throat uneasily. By her reaction to him calling her that, he thought that Y/N’s daughter seemed angry. “I’m sorry Elizabeth.”
“No, I’m okay with being called Liz. I’m just surprised you know my name,” Elizabeth liked that someone she had looked up to for so long actually knew who she was. “I don’t mind you calling me Liz. It’s hard for me to think that you know about me.”
“You were one of our biggest topics of discussion last night and this morning. Of course I know your name,” Negan assured her letting out a sigh of relief since he thought he had done something wrong originally. “I mean what I said though. Any questions you have, I’ll answer.”
Pushing her hair back over her shoulder, Elizabeth gave a nod. Dropping her hands down at her sides, she curled her fingers around the edge of the seat and sighed, “Did the two of you have sex?”
Hearing that so bluntly asked had Y/N choking on what she had in her mouth. Instead of being offended, Negan just seemed to laugh at how quickly that was brought up.
“I’m sure he’s okay with you asking questions, but nothing like that,” Y/N pled with her daughter knowing that Elizabeth probably could answer that herself after everything. The truth was that they had slept together multiple times during the night and the morning, but she wasn’t about to tell her daughter that. “Please.”
“Maybe we can keep the questions non-pornographic?” Negan requested, teasing Elizabeth in the moment. A tiny snort fell from him again and the color grew back into Elizabeth’s cheeks. Embarrassment flooded throughout her veins realizing that was probably too much of a question to ask. But Negan did seem rather amused with her bluntness instead of being offended. Elizabeth’s brown eyes seemed to want to avoid meeting his stare now. “You’re still a kid after all.”
“I’m not a kid,” Elizabeth was quick to correct Negan, not wanting to be viewed as a child in the situation. Smirking, Negan gave a nod of his head and Y/N pushed her chair a little away from the table.
“You’re still my child and you’re not eighteen yet,” Y/N reminded her daughter of things, reaching out to extend her hand to place it in over Elizabeth’s. Squeezing softly at her hand, Y/N wanted to show that she supported her daughter but still wanted to stress that she wasn’t an adult yet.
“Then can I ask if you want to date my mom?” Elizabeth looked to Negan again after Y/N pulled her hand away. Reaching for the fork that she had put down, Elizabeth started to poke at the scrambled eggs while Negan chewed. Negan’s thick eyebrows bounced up with a muscle flexing at the corner of his jaw. “Like are you calling yourself her boyfriend or something?”
“I don’t think we’ve really talked about that yet,” Negan responded the best way he knew how. “We’re just two people that used to be close and we’re enjoying each other’s company while I’m here.”
“You won’t hurt her?” Elizabeth questioned and she felt like she sounded like a parent right now instead of a teenager who was meeting their celebrity idol.
“I don’t plan to,” Negan stated with a shrug of his shoulders looking to Y/N who was gazing back and forth between the two. “I hurt your mother a long time ago by letting our friendship slip through my fingers and I want to make up for that.”
“So I should expect to see more of you then?” Elizabeth confirmed with Negan. Nodding his head while he swallowed down his food, Negan looked to Y/N for confirmation. “More than just Christmas time?”
“I’d hope so,” Negan took another bite of his breakfast, waving his fork about afterwards. “With my schedule, I’ll do my best. I’d like to get to know her better along with you and your little brother. I should have been here all along to do that.”
“So…does that mean you want to be like our dad now?” Elizabeth wasn’t sure how to take that. Immediately Negan shook his head.
“No, I don’t ever expect to take the position of your father. I know the two of you have a good relationship with him,” Negan felt odd talking about marriage, dating and all of this when it was just the first night they spent together. Only more so because he didn’t want to rush things. He felt comfortable with Y/N, but he didn’t want to scare her away. “You both sound like awesome kids and I’d just like to get to know you more.”
“Dad told me that mom wanted you to be my godfather,” Elizabeth recalled what Joel had informed her of the other day. Maybe it was stupid to mention it, but after Joel said it, it had been lingering in her mind for days.
“And I wish I would have been around to have that opportunity,” Negan stressed, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. Looking to Y/N, a large amount of empathy seemed to flood into Negan’s features knowing that was something Y/N wanted. “I would have been so lucky to be your godfather.”
“It would have given me awesome bragging rights,” Elizabeth added eliciting a loud laugh from Negan with her response to it. “Seriously. Could you imagine? Me getting to go around and tell everyone that you were my godfather? People would be so jealous.”
“Who is your godfather?” Negan wondered looking between both Elizabeth and Y/N.
“Uncle Tommy,” Elizabeth was quick to answer, shrugging her shoulders at the idea of it. “It still blows my mind that you were so close to my parents. When my dad said you were best friends, I didn’t believe it. Then he told me you were closer to my mom.”
“Well, your Uncle Tommy is a good man,” Negan conceded, taking another big bite of the food that was on his plate. Waving his fork about, Negan thought back to when they were children. “Your mother was always my best friend. I can’t remember how we met, but we were together all the time. And then your dad and your Uncle Tommy moved to town and they just became part of our group. After your mother knocked out a bully for Tommy, we were pretty much inseparable.”
“Dad told me about that,” Elizabeth couldn’t help but laugh and it had Y/N lowering her head to bury it in her hand. “I can’t believe you beat that kid with a hockey stick!”
“Your dad did not tell you that!” Y/N seemed offended, dropping her hand down so fast that it smacked against the table. Warmth flooded into Y/N’s features at the idea that Joel told their daughter about how she attacked someone. Both Elizabeth and Negan were laughing at her response. “I hit him once with the hockey stick just to get him to let go of your Uncle Tommy!”
“It echoed throughout the entire street,” Negan reminded Y/N, setting his fork down for a moment. Acting like he was holding a hockey stick, Negan made a popping sound when he pretended he was hitting someone with it. Groaning out, Y/N dropped her head down into her hand again. “And as soon as he dropped your Uncle Tommy, the fists started swinging.”
“Dad said you beat him so bad that he wouldn’t tell anyone because you were a girl and he was embarrassed,” Elizabeth added to the conversation drawing Y/N to drop back against the seat. Folding her arms in front of her chest, Y/N shook her head slowly. “Dad said he was afraid of you after that.”
“Your mom could kick some serious ass,” Negan alerted Elizabeth evoking a glare from Y/N when she looked to him. Throwing his hands up, he couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. “I mean it. No one fucked with you because you would whoop their ass. You were a badass.”
“It’s so hard to picture you like that now,” Elizabeth was amused to hear about that side of her mother. “You really had a lot of fire in you, huh?”
“I did,” Y/N admitted, tipping her head from side to side. She never lied to Elizabeth before so she wasn’t going to start now. “I had a problem with people being assholes. Especially since the boy bullying your Uncle Tommy was my age. It pissed me off. If someone was an asshole, I would put them in their place no questions asked. But I don’t condone that behavior now of course.”
“I think it’s cool,” Elizabeth responded with another amused sound. “Knowing you were a badass does make things more interesting.”
“Your Uncle Tommy thought he was the biggest bad ass being part of our group. He was five years younger than me and your dad. And he would get to hang out with people our age. All the kids his age were jealous of him. Or scared I guess,” Negan thought aloud, reaching for another blueberry muffin. “If someone stepped out of line, they would have had to deal with one of the three of us.”
“I wish that wouldn’t have changed,” Elizabeth sighed loudly, entertained at the idea of it but sad in a way that she missed out on that.
“Yeah, me too,” Negan dropped down his hand to place it in over Y/N’s knee. Patting it a few times, Negan squeezed gently and then smiled when Y/N lowered her hand to place hers over his.
“I’m still going to throw some shade at you about stealing those bragging rights away from me,” Elizabeth pushed, almost in a joking tone when she went back to eating.
“What can I do to make up for it?” Negan questioned, pulling his hand out from underneath Y/N’s. Tapping his hands over the top of the table brought Elizabeth’s attention back to him. Stretching out his arms, he threw them up in the air. Elizabeth didn’t know how to respond to that. “What can we do now to give you bragging rights?”
“Careful,” Y/N warned Negan knowing that her daughter might have a field day with what he was asking. Rubbing his hands together, Negan didn’t seem to mind whatever would be thrown his way. He wanted to make a good impression with Elizabeth. He made that very obvious.
“If she wants to show off to her friends somehow, we can do whatever,” Negan allowed that idea to be thrown out there, waving his hand about as he spoke. “I dropped the ball when it came to being her godfather, so if I can make up for it some other way. I’d like to.”
“Bullshit,” Elizabeth stammered causing Negan to laugh out loud. While Elizabeth picked up a lot of her father’s features, the expression she just made reminded Negan so much of Y/N when she was younger.
Truthfully? Looking at Elizabeth also had a shit load of emotions flooding throughout Negan. Back when they were younger, Negan could have never pictured Joel and Y/N having a child together. But, here one of them were. And she really did seem to be a mix of both of her parents. Negan picked up on it so quickly.
“Well, I mean within reason of course,” Negan stressed, biting down at his bottom lip knowing that it was best to throw that out there just in case. Y/N still thought this was brave, but she was waiting for Elizabeth’s response. “You know, to make up for the way things went down.”
“Can I take a selfie with you and post it on my socials?” Elizabeth pushed, a range of excitement flooding into her younger features. Looking to Y/N, Negan wanted her to give him a silent answer to make sure it was okay with her first.
“They aren’t going to show up at our house wanting to do the same, are they?” Y/N inquired seeing her daughter immediately shake her head. Even if they did show up at the house, Elizabeth would assure them that they wouldn’t because she wanted this.
“I mean Lydia might want to meet him, but she’s my best friend so…” Elizabeth stressed looking between the two of them. Getting up from the table, Negan moved around it and knelt down beside Elizabeth. Allowing Elizabeth to take a photo of the two of them, he noticed that she was posting it on something saying she was having breakfast with ‘the’ Negan Smith.
“You’re still such a teenager,” her mother smirked, reaching out to squeeze her hand in over her daughter’s wrist noticing that Elizabeth got a bit embarrassed at how she reacted. Hearing the notifications going off on her daughter’s phone made Y/N look to Negan who gave her a wink. Successfully, Elizabeth got what she wanted. Bragging rights.
Getting up, Negan went back to his seat in attempts to finish his breakfast. Instead of looking at her phone, Elizabeth pushed it forward on the kitchen table and looked between them. There was a sense of pride that ran through Elizabeth after the move she pulled.
“Your mother tells me that you play softball,” Negan changed the subject for a moment after taking a big bite of one of the biscuits that was covered with gravy. “She says you’re really good at it. Did you want to go professional with it?”
“Professional? Probably not,” Elizabeth answered, her eyes falling to her phone that once again buzzed. Y/N felt like her daughter was probably desperate to see who it was but she was trying to act levelheaded in front of Negan. “It’s not the same for women like it is men. But it has been helpful with college. I can still play when I’m in college. Do something I love while also focusing on my education.”
“That’s very smart,” Negan applauded her for her decision, snickering when her phone vibrated again. “We’ll have to throw a ball around one day. See how strong of an arm you got there.”
“That’d be really awesome. I’d like that,” Elizabeth confessed with a huge smile.
This was really something special to Elizabeth and Y/N knew that. This was someone Elizabeth looked up to and he was treating her extremely good. It actually impressed Y/N with how good Negan was being around her daughter. It was their first day back with spending a lot of time together and he was already taking on the job of making her daughter feel comfortable around him. That made Y/N happy and showed that Negan meant what he said about things.
“Does dad know about this?” Elizabeth broke the silence that had fallen upon them for a while so they could eat their breakfast. Even though she was very happy about everything and geeked out, she couldn’t help but let her father linger on her mind.
“Which part?” Y/N didn’t know how to respond because there was a lot going on.
“That the two of you are spending time together?” Elizabeth spoke before going to eat some of the breakfast that they made for her.
“If he didn’t, he sure does now,” Negan pointed toward Elizabeth’s phone, giving a half smirk. “Unless he doesn’t follow your socials.”
“He doesn’t,” Elizabeth was quick to answer Negan with a shake of her head. In fact, it made her smile because one thing about Joel was that he absolutely hated the internet. Social media didn’t make much sense to him and while Joel was good at most things, he wasn’t incredibly good with computers. “He doesn’t really like technology things. He’s not very good at them. Mom is always having to fix his laptop for him because he just doesn’t…get it.”
“Your father knew that I was going on a date with him last night,” Y/N was honest with her daughter wanting to be as open as she could possibly be with her.
“And he was okay with that?” Elizabeth was curious and it had Y/N looking down toward her plate. Poking at her food, Y/N knew that Joel had been on her mind all night, but with Negan here it wasn’t the time or place.
“Baby I love you,” Y/N began, speaking softly so that she didn’t seem to have any anger toward Elizabeth or Joel from the start. “And while I care a lot about your father, whether he’s upset about us spending time together or not is not really something I want to stress about.”
Was she scared about Joel’s reaction to things? Of course. It was something that Y/N had thought about all night after she had slept with Negan the first time. There was no questioning that Joel would be furious with her for sleeping with Negan. Deep down she knew that. All she could do was compare both Joel and Negan all night long. But if she worried about Joel’s response? She was never going to be able to relax.
“Your father dated Tess off and on for years,” Y/N reminded her daughter, not wanting to sound too angry about things. “And not once did someone ask me if I was okay with it because at the end of the day, it wasn’t my place to be angry or accepting of it. It was your father’s life and he was doing what he wanted.”
“You’re right,” Elizabeth had taken a moment to think about what her mother said. There wasn’t much more that she could say really because she was aware just how true that statement was. So she went back to eating.
A moment later Negan nudged Y/N with his arm to get her to look at him. With a nod of encouragement he was letting her know that he thought her answer was a good one. It was nice knowing that Negan had her back to let her know that she didn’t fuck up in that moment. His wink told her that.
“Are you really retiring because of your knee?” Elizabeth stammered after a few moments of silence and it had Negan lifting his head. Arching his eyebrow, Negan’s expression was confused where she was going. “I’ve just seen people talk on the internet about why you were really retiring. You’ve hurt your knee twice. Everyone knows that. But the whole sticking around for another season thing. Does that mean your knee is good enough for you to keep playing?”
“Yeah, I’m retiring because of my knee,” Negan replied, swallowing down hard when his career was brought to the table. “When I hurt my knee the first time I was told that I shouldn’t have gone back. But I did. I loved the game too much. And then I hurt it the second time. I just don’t think I ever felt the same again after that injury. I’m slowing down and I was told that I was going to have to get surgery on my knee again. But I’m putting it off. I wanted to have one last go before I retired officially. I’m getting older anyways and I should stop before I’m no longer good at what I do.”
“Most people play until they suck,” Elizabeth brought up other players hating to hear that his retirement was legit.
“I can’t be that person,” Negan spoke honestly realizing that he had thought about that a lot too. “I don’t want to be forced to quit because I’m so bad. I want to go out while I’m still good at what I do. Where I’m still at the top. Because then I can have a final year where people still love me. I’ve seen some of the much older guys overstay their welcome and instead of being supportive, the fans turn on them. I don’t want that to happen with me.”
“Can I see your knee?” Elizabeth wondered, her brown eyes getting big with Negan snickering. She was hopping all over the place, but it amused Negan. It was typical for a young kid to be scatter minded when someone they looked up to was around. He was used to this over the years he had been a baseball player meeting fans.
“It’s just a knee,” Y/N chuckled but Elizabeth shrugged. With another smirk, Negan stood up from the table and moved in beside Elizabeth. Bending over, he rolled up the pant leg of the sweatpants. Pretty quickly, she turned in her seat to observe Negan’s knee. You couldn’t miss the scars from Negan’s surgeries but it didn’t look as bad as Negan clearly thought it did.
“I would have killed that guy that purposely did that to you,” Elizabeth snorted with an angered sound, sliding back into her seat. “Everyone knows he did it because you were destroying them. With you on the team, there was no losing. Plowing into your knee from behind? That was such a shitty thing to do. And what did it get him? He’s no longer playing. And you still are. Fucking loser he was.”
“Elizabeth!” Y/N was surprised to hear her daughter talking like that which had Negan amused as he rolled his pants back down over his leg.
“I’m not a child anymore! Plus, that’s what dad said back then too!” Elizabeth defended herself, placing her hand in over the center of her chest. “I learned everything I know from him. We watch sports together all the time. That guy that hurt Negan was a fucking loser. If he wanted to win, he could have done it fair and square instead of going after the best player on the team like that.”
“I don’t really know what to say,” Negan began, heading back over to his seat to sit down. “Unfortunately, injuries like mine are the most common for a lot of baseball players. It could have happened to me at any point, but it was sad that another player did that to me purposely.”
“Did you at least punch the guy out?” Elizabeth begged for some kind of answer which had Y/N looking to Negan.
“I wanted to, but my wife did instead,” Negan huffed hearing both the girls laugh. “If you remember that game, it caused a huge fight on the field. The coach on the other team forced that guy to apologize to me as they were loading me into an ambulance. My wife was at the game and when he approached us, she just full on right hooked him. Hit him so hard that she broke his nose and there was blood everywhere.”
“Your…” the smile slowly faded from Elizabeth’s face when she tore her stare away from Negan and to her mother. “Your wife? I forgot that you were married.”
“I was,” Negan stressed his words, reaching for the necklace that he wore to bring it forward to show the wedding rings that were there. Worry had filled Elizabeth at that point because she was obviously nervous that her mother was spending time with a married man. “She passed away a few years ago.”
“That…that makes sense,” Elizabeth frowned, setting her fork down. Guilt started to eat away at her. By the expression over Negan’s face it had upset him some talking about his late wife. “I remember you talking about her all the time when I was little and then you didn’t. That’s probably why…I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have brought that up.”
“You didn’t know,” Negan lowered his necklace back down, outstretching his hand to give Elizabeth’s hand a firm squeeze.
A buzzing filled the air drawing all of their attention to Elizabeth’s phone seeing that it was Peter calling her. Instead of answering, Elizabeth kept eating and there was a certain smirk that was over Elizabeth’s face that said she knew Peter was calling about Negan. The call ended and then Peter started calling her again which had Elizabeth avoiding it once more.
“Elizabeth,” Y/N called out to her daughter seeing that there was amusement across her daughter’s face. “You’re teasing your brother.”
“You know just as much as I do that he’s going to call me a few more times and then he’s going to call you,” Elizabeth suggested pointing at the phone. Peter called one more time before Y/N heard her cell phone ringing on the counter. “See. You better be prepared because once Peter knows that you are here he is going to want to come over here to meet you too. And if you think I talk too much, wait until he is here.”
“I’m okay with that,” Negan gave the go ahead with a nod when Y/N pushed her seat back to go head over to grab her phone. “The only thing I have to do later is go to my mother’s house for dinner. But if the three of you want, you can come with me. My mother loved your mother. So I think she would be excited to see her.”
“You’d let us meet your mother?” Elizabeth seemed shocked that Negan was so willing and open to include them in his life.
“It’s not exactly a good thing,” Negan teased Elizabeth with a wink. “She is my mother after all.”
“Yep. Peter is coming home immediately,” Y/N hung up her phone causing Negan to snort. “He’s desperate to meet you too.”
“I just invited you and the kids to come with me to my mother’s house tonight for dinner,” Negan adjusted Y/N’s chair so she could sit down in it easier. “That’s if you want to.”
“It’s supposed to be Joel’s time with them,” Y/N responded having Elizabeth hush Y/N from speaking any further. “I’m just saying I don’t know how your father would feel with you spending one of his days with us instead of with him.”
“We’ll go to dad’s house after the dinner, but do you really think it would be cool for him to turn away time with my favorite athlete?” Elizabeth desperately wanted to be around Negan more and it was obvious. An amused rumble of a breath fell from Negan’s lips before he went back to eating. “And you know that Peter is going to eat up most of Negan’s time when he gets here.”
“As long as I don’t get in trouble with your father for it?” Y/N rambled on, looking to Negan who gave her a smile. “Then I’m completely okay with it.”
----
Well today did not go how Y/N thought it would. At first it did. Peter came home and he immediately was full of questions for Negan. Peter snacked on some of the cupcakes and muffins that they had made while they all sat together to talk in the living room. Which was really just Elizabeth and Peter asking Negan hundreds of questions that he tried to answer for them. It was mostly about baseball and being famous, but he answered every single one of them. It surprised her how much patience Negan had for them. But she appreciated that he did.
The day went by quickly and before she knew it, it was time for them to go to dinner at Negan’s mother’s home. Even though Negan’s mother was someone she grew up with, she wanted to make a good impression with her. So they all got dressed nicely. Both her and the children. Because Negan didn’t have any clothes at her house, he just put on what he had worn the night before with her for their date.
What was surprising was learning where Negan’s mother lived. She still lived in the childhood home that Negan grew up in. For some reason, she thought that Negan’s mother moved out of that home when Negan’s father passed away. Then again, she really lost all contact with Negan after they stopped being friends. Maybe she publicly ignored things with Negan’s mother to force herself not to care about him anymore.
There were two problems with coming to dinner here. The first? Negan’s childhood home was right next to her parents’ home. The reason Negan and Y/N were so close is because they were neighbors. They were never too far from each other. After Y/N had gotten pregnant with Elizabeth, her parents had kicked her out of their home. They wanted her to get an abortion and she refused. So they wrote her off completely. And that never changed. It had been over eighteen years since she had spoken to either one of her parents. That didn’t mean she didn’t try though in the past. They lived in the same small town after all. There were moments where she saw them and tried to interact with them. Get them to realize that they had grandchildren that could use them in their lives, but they didn’t care. Nothing broke down that wall they put up after they cut her off completely. Elizabeth and Peter never met any of their grandparents. All they ever knew was their parents and Tommy. So being next to her parents’ home? Yeah, that was really uncomfortable and brought back painful memories.
The less painful, but just as uncomfortable thing was that Joel and Tommy’s home was down the street. The reason they were all so close as children was because they lived by each other. Joel’s parents’ home was down the street from them. That was the first home she shared with Joel. They lived their together until they both could afford to move to the home that she lived in now. After they got divorced? That was the home that Joel moved back into with Tommy who was still living there at the time.
A lot of her fears were put to rest when they got here though. Negan’s mother welcomed her with open arms like there was no time gap between. How Negan’s mother treated her back when she was a child was the same way she did now. She was welcoming, friendly and very sweet. The children really seemed to like her and vice versa. Negan’s mother treated Y/N like she was still that girl that lived next door. And she was very doting on both Elizabeth and Peter.
Considering Peter and Elizabeth never had grandparents, they actually seemed to cling to Negan’s mother while they spent time there. It wasn’t often they got attention from others. So they were eating it up. Also, they were both just so incredibly excited to be spending time with Negan. They had to stress that like every five minutes. Which Negan no doubt liked. They always made him laugh and smile. That was nice to see.
During dinner a snowstorm started. One that they weren’t really prepared for. It was a heavy one that the weather channel was reporting as dangerous to be outside in. It would be impossible for her to drive home. And that meant she was stuck here.
And right now? The four of them sat together on the couch in the living room watching Christmas movies together. Negan’s mother had set them all up with desserts before going to bed for the night. Before she made sure Y/N knew that she had set the guest room up for Y/N to stay for the night.
They were two movies in at this point. And surprisingly the children had managed to stay quiet during the movies. Well, that’s what Y/N thought at least. Especially since they had been talking Negan’s head off during the rest of the day.
“I think Peter is drooling on Negan,” Elizabeth finally spoke up, interrupting their silence to draw attention to Peter. Tired himself, Negan looked beside him to gaze at Peter. Peter’s head was resting on Negan’s shoulder, his deep breaths were filling the air. “He is such a child. Eats a ton and then falls right asleep. He’s like a baby.”
“I don’t mind,” Negan snickered, reaching up with his left hand to rub at his tired eyes. “When I was his age I used to pass right out if I was sitting by a warm fire after eating a bunch of treats and a big dinner. So I can’t say I blame him. It’s getting late anyways…”
“Let’s not pretend you wouldn’t like to be sleeping on Negan,” Y/N teased her daughter hearing Elizabeth groan out and cover her face. Negan’s laugh followed and Elizabeth shook her head.
“It’s kind of creepy now. Isn’t it?” Elizabeth eyed over Negan and Y/N who were seated at the middle of the couch holding hands. “If you would have told me the two of you were this close? I would have never let the celebrity crush get so big. Trust me, the crush is slowly leaving.”
“Slowly?” Negan’s eyebrow arched in amusement drawing Y/N’s daughter to grow red. Falling back against the couch, she pulled her legs up against her chest and it made Negan giggle. “It’s okay. I crushed on my mom’s friends when I was younger too.”
“You’re not just her friend,” Elizabeth was quiet in the way she spoke because she didn’t want to draw Peter’s attention to what she knew about Negan with their mom. “So yeah. It’s a little creepy and it will be gone soon. I’m forcing it to go away.”
“I’m sorry,” Y/N frowned and Elizabeth held her hand up to stop her mom from going forward.
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s just try to erase from our minds that I crushed on him,” Elizabeth made a disgusted expression. Negan attempted to hide his laugh and Y/N nudged him with her shoulder. They were having small amounts of fun teasing her about it, but at the same time she actually understood why it would make her daughter uncomfortable. It was a tense situation. “Dad was right. It was weird for me to be crushing on someone his age anyways.”
“It was innocent,” Negan suggested with a shrug of his shoulders trying to not make Elizabeth feel even worse about things.
There was a knock on the door, interrupting their time talking and it made Negan look back over his shoulder. Looking at the time, Negan grumbled under his breath and sighed loudly, “Who could be here this late at night?”
Adjusting Peter, Negan was careful in the way that he moved. He didn’t want to wake Peter up since he seemed to be really out cold. Helping Peter to rest against the arm of the couch instead, Negan didn’t rush it. Watching Negan being so good with her son took Y/N’s breath away. It was nice to see.
Tip toeing toward the door, Negan unlocked it and started to slowly open it up. A moment later the door was pushed open firmly with a huff escaping Negan’s throat. Being pushed aside, Negan stumbled back and grumbled under his breath when he realized who it was, “Please Joel, come in.”
“Joel?” Y/N repeated what Negan said, her heart skipping a beat. Sitting forward on the couch, her eyes grew wide when Joel stepped in beside the couch. His glare locked with hers and it was very obvious by the expression over Joel’s face that he was angry. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Joel scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. Back at the door, Negan was closing things up. Tension flooded the room with Joel’s dark eyes locked on Y/N’s as if he was waiting for something from her. A thin layer of snow was covering Joel from the snowstorm that was still undoubtedly going. “It’s my night with the children. So I came to pick them up and walk them home.”
“We were just finishing a movie dad,” Elizabeth acknowledged, nodding toward the television. Side stepping, Joel looked to the television to eye over what was on the screen. A muscle was flexing at Joel’s jaw that had Y/N ill at ease. That was definitely a sign that he was angry. And she wasn’t really sure why. “Do you want to finish it with us?”
“No, I don’t,” Joel felt the warmth of someone moving in behind him and he quickly shifted to allow Negan to move in beside the couch. Looking down, Joel saw that Peter was sleeping heavily and he shook his head. Snapping his fingers, Joel expected it to wake Peter up, but it wasn’t working. “Buddy?”
“Just let him sleep?” Negan recommended, nodding over toward the chair that was in the corner. “I can pull the chair in closer, you can sit with Peter and we can keep watching the movie if you’d like? I can grab you a cup of hot chocolate, let you warm up. My mother made this dessert that Y/N and the kids really liked so I’m sure you’d enjoy it. Maybe after the movie you could wake Peter up and…” the sound of Joel clapping his hands together firmly echoed throughout the room causing Peter’s head to shoot up. The sound had scared him awake and Negan sighed loudly. “Or not.”
“Dad?” Peter’s dark eyes blinked a few times trying to register what was going on. Rubbing at his eyes, Peter yawned and forced himself to sit up straighter. “What are you doing here?”
“The snow is really starting to come down. And it’s getting late. I wanted to come get the two of you before it was too dangerous for you to walk home,” Joel explained, outstretching his hand toward Elizabeth. Confusion flooded her young features with Y/N placing her hand in over Elizabeth’s knee. “Come on Ellie, it’s time to go home.”
“Joel. It’s a few houses down. I’m sure they would have been fine,” Y/N couldn’t help but think there was more going on here. Especially with how angrily Joel stormed into the house. “And if it got bad, they could have just stayed in the guest room with me.”
“Why would they do that when they have their own bedrooms just a few houses down?” Joel’s southern drawl grew angrier. Beside Joel, Negan seemed uneasy as he pushed his hands into the pockets of the dark slacks that he was wearing. Narrowing his eyes, Negan kept his stare on Joel while Joel rocked back and forth on his feet. “That doesn’t make a lick of sense.”
“How did you even know we were here?” Elizabeth blurt out, curious to know what led Joel to coming here in the first place. Silence filled the room until Joel looked to Peter. And in that moment? Everyone else looked to Peter too. Innocently shrugging his shoulders, Peter threw his hands up in the air. “Pete?!”
“He asked what we were doing with mom and I was honest. I told him where we were. I thought it was super cool. I didn’t know I had to be quiet about it,” Peter defended himself throwing both of his hands to his chest. “I just texted him at the end of the last movie.”
“I should have been told to begin with,” Joel interrupted Peter, throwing his hand about. Connecting eyes with Y/N, Joel felt his heart hammering in his chest. “Why wasn’t I told where you were going? I think I had the right to know.”
“Because I don’t tell you everything Joel,” Y/N stood up from the couch finding this whole thing to be ridiculous. “Going to Negan’s mother’s house for a dinner so they could meet his mom didn’t seem like such a big deal.”
“I should be able to have a say in who my children spend their time with,” Joel snapped, pointing his finger out at her in a moment of anger.
“Dad?” Peter stood up from the couch hating to see that his parents were angry with each other. It had been a long time since he saw his parents acting like this toward one another. “We’re not babies anymore. We’re teenagers. I hardly tell you who my friends are. I just tell you where I’m going if I’m leaving. We were with mom. Nothing bad was going to happen.”
“And if you wanted us home, we could have just walked home ourselves,” Elizabeth added from where she was still seated on the couch. Right now she didn’t understand why her father was so angry. “It’s really okay.”
“It’s getting dangerous out,” Joel quickly changed his tune, lowering his hand at his side. Clearing his throat, Joel nodded toward the door. “I came here to make sure that the two of you got home safely. I was worried and I didn’t want either of you hurt.”
“Fine,” Elizabeth shrugged, still attempting to understand where all this worry came from. Standing up from the couch, she knew that they weren’t going to be able to finish the film. So before it got any more uneasy, she would just do what Joel wanted. Facing Negan, Elizabeth tried to gather words and it took a minute before she did. “Please thank your mom for us? It was an awesome meal. And it was a lot of fun.”
“Of course,” Negan gave a wink noticing that things got strange as soon as Joel entered the home. “I promise you she feels the same way.”
Back stepping, Negan pointed toward an area and gave a weak smile, “Let me go grab your jackets.”
“We’ll come with you,” Peter announced, waving Elizabeth beside him so they could follow Negan to the closet.
Watching Negan with his children, Joel grunted when Negan grabbed Elizabeth’s jacket. Holding it out for her, Negan helped her get the jacket on before doing the same with Peter. Both of them seemed lost in saying goodbye to Negan.
“You really should have told me this is what you were doing,” Joel whispered so that only she could hear him. “You didn’t tell me for a reason. And I think that’s shady. If I would have known…”
“You would have flipped out,” Y/N finished for him, her eyebrows bouncing up. Joel’s lips parted like he wanted to say something, but he just grumbled something under his breath. Folding her arms in front of her chest, she shook her head and couldn’t believe he came in guns blazing. “Just like you are now. You might want to cool it Rambo.”
Licking his lips, Joel’s eyes narrowed and he didn’t seem too happy with her, “They just wanted to spend some time getting to know Negan. I thought it was innocent, so, I let them. You know Negan and you know his mother. His mother was always amazing with us when we were younger. So don’t pretend like this home was somewhere dangerous for them to be.”
“Right,” Joel’s expression softened, his head nodding when he forced himself to look away from her. “You’re absolutely right.”
“Do you want me to grab some of the dessert that my mother made so you can take some home with you?” Negan’s voice interrupted the two of them, disappointing Joel with his presence.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I eat enough sweets as it is,” Joel began and it looked like he was considering something. “Y’know, I think it’s going to be dangerous driving home tonight. How about you come with us? You can stay in the spare room.”
“My mother already set up the guest room here for her,” Negan informed Joel, moving in beside Y/N with a loud exhale. “I won’t let her drive home. She’ll be safe here. I promise.”
“I’m sure here she will be safe, but at my home, she will be with her family,” Joel attempted to assert his dominance in the moment. Instead of having an impact on Negan, it just made Negan smile. “And I think we’re all safer together.”
“I’ll be right down the street if something happens,” Y/N replied back, reaching out to grab a hold of Joel’s arm to get him to back down. Considering how loud Joel was breathing, it was making it pretty obvious to the children that it was getting awkward between all of them.
“Joel, do you think we can talk for a minute?” Negan requested pointing between both him and Joel. The expression over Joel’s face looked like an immediate fuck no, but when he looked to the children Joel’s features softened. Joel nodded and Negan gave a weak smile to Peter and Elizabeth. “You should go get some of the sweets that my mother made regardless of what your dad said. Christmas time is the best time to allow yourself to eat like a king. Let your dad have some of the dessert. I know my mother would be upset if I didn’t get you to do that. Take your time.”
Pressing his hand in over Joel’s shoulder had Joel pulling out from underneath Negan’s grasp as they headed for the door. Negan wasn’t wearing his suit jacket or his coat when he walked out into the heavy snow with Joel. They moved away from the door and onto the sidewalk with Joel turning on his heel to face Negan. Even though it was later, it was lighter outside with how much snow was falling. A few inches had fallen already and Negan could feel the chill all around him.
“What do you want Negan?” Joel’s hands fell to his hips where he waited to find out why Negan brought them outside to talk in the first place.
“It doesn’t have to be like this, you know?” Negan reasoned with Joel referring to the anger and tension that Joel was visibly feeling toward him. “The two of us were good friends too when we were younger. I’d like for us to have a friendship again if you’re willing.”
A long, uncomfortable pause surrounded them. Laughing apprehensively, Negan reached up to rub at the side of his face, “I’m willing to forgive you for what you did. This anger? Whatever this is? There is no need for it. I let go of the past. I don’t know where all this hostility for me is coming from.”
“You’re willing to forgive me? Forgive me for what?” Joel snapped, his face scrunching up in anger. Curling his fists at his side, Joel seemed disgusted with Negan. Tipping his head to the side, Negan’s thick eyebrows bounced up and he smiled uncomfortably. “I did nothing wrong.”
Standing his ground, Joel stepped forward and even though he was smaller than Negan he was doing his best to be intimidating.
“We both know that’s not the case,” Negan scoffed, the bridge of his nose wrinkling when he was referring to something that Joel obviously knew he was talking about. Making sure that it was only the two of them outside, Negan nodded his head about and sighed. “But like I said, I’m willing to forgive and forget it.”
“Are you? Since you’re the one that brought it up?” Joel sneered, shrinking the distance between them. It had a tiny smirk tugging at Negan’s lips and his eyes narrowed. “I reckon if you forgave me, you wouldn’t have mentioned it.”
“I was mentioning it because that’s clearly why you’re acting like this,” Negan attempted to reason with Joel, not liking how things were already starting off between them. A slight shove from Joel was felt at the center of Negan’s chest causing him to step back. Lowering his head, an amused sigh escaped Negan’s throat. “Okay Joel. Or you can blatantly hate me if that makes you feel better. I’d really prefer us to be friends. But I’m assuming that’s not something you’re interested in?”
“I know what you’re doing,” Joel warned Negan, stepping forward to shove Negan again, but this time it barely had Negan moving since he was prepared for it. “You’re doing this because of what I did. I can see right through you.”
“Can you? Because from where I’m standing you sound a little nuts Joel,” Negan threw his hand up in the air, shaking his head. “I’m not doing anything out of malicious intent. I didn’t come back to town with some kind of plan to fuck with you. I just came here wanting to see my mother and take a break from what I was used to. Then I ran into Y/N and we just clicked.”
“Of course you fucking did,” Joel snarled rolling his eyes and scoffing out loud. It infuriated him when it felt like there was a small inkling of hope between him and Y/N before Negan suddenly showed up. “You’re fucking with my family.”
“I’m really not,” Negan stressed gazing back over his shoulder at the front door that was partially opened. “Believe it or not Joel, I actually really like your family. And as I told you earlier, I would really like it if you and I could attempt to be friends again in some fashion.”
“You’re so full of shit it hurts,” Joel claimed with a hiss which had disappointment flooding Negan’s face. In that moment it seemed like the snow started to fall harder around them. “I’m not going to give you my blessing or decide that I’m okay with this because I’m not. I’m not okay with this Negan.”
“Well, that’s not really your decision to make,” Negan exhaled loudly, shrugging his shoulders. A fire was growing inside of Joel with the response that Negan gave him. Even though they were outside in the freezing snow, Joel felt like his body was ready to explode with how angry he was. “I’m sorry you want it to be like this.”
Turning on his heel, Negan stopped when Joel called out to him, “I do have to reiterate that I did nothing wrong. I shouldn’t have to apologize for what happened. I don’t regret it. I wouldn’t take it back.”
“I wouldn’t want you to take it back,” Negan brushed off what Joel was saying, giving another small shake of his head. “What happened? It was meant to happen. And I firmly believe that. You were meant to have your children. They are great kids. I really do believe that what was meant to happen, did. But what you did in the past? Well that just proved what a fucking asshole you really could be.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you’re man of the year,” Joel threw that out there getting disgusted with the way that Negan was talking about things. “I’m sure your wife was always happy, right?”
“Excuse me?” Negan muttered, turning on his heel with Joel’s eyebrows tightening up. That was the first moment that Joel saw any real anger coming out of Negan. The mention of Negan’s wife was something that obviously bothered him. “What do you know about my wife?”
“You’d be surprised,” Joel responded looking beyond Negan when the children started to move out of the house. It had Joel’s posture straightening up and he moved forward, slamming his shoulder into Negan’s who let out a grunt.
“Thanks for letting us come over Negan,” Elizabeth spoke loud enough to draw Negan’s attention to her. Even though things had gotten stressful, Negan tried to force those feelings away. Turning on his heel, Negan gave a wink. Rubbing his hands together, he attempted to warm his hands up. “I’m sorry about the…weirdness of everything.”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle kiddo,” Negan promised her with a weak smile, holding his hand out into a fist. Flashing her a big cheesy smile had Elizabeth smiling in return as she knuckle bumped him. In the background Negan could see that Joel was rolling his eyes, but Negan didn’t address it. Peter swiftly moved forward in beside Elizabeth holding his fist up as well for Negan to knuckle bump him. “And Peter. My dude, we’ll have to play some video games sometime.”
“I would die,” Peter emphasized his words eliciting a deep rumble of a laugh from Negan. “That would be awesome.”
“You’re awesome,” Negan rustled Peter’s dark hair before stepping back allowing Y/N to say goodbye to her children.
Outstretching his hand after Y/N was done hugging their children Joel hooked his fingers with Elizabeth’s and then grabbed Peter’s hand with the other. Moving to the door, Y/N watched as Joel back stepped with their children.
“The offer is still on the table. We have a place for you if you want it for the night,” Joel called out to Y/N, hoping to appeal to her somehow. “I’m sure it will feel more like home than this.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” Y/N stepped outside, moving in beside Negan who looked both confused and angry with Joel. Taking a second to look them over, Joel shook his head and then started moving down the driveway with the children. They took their time walking to Joel’s house while Y/N reached up to stroke her fingers over the bottom of Negan’s neck. “What’d he say?”
“Nothing,” Negan lied, his long eyelashes fluttering when he looked to Y/N with a shake of his head. After being out in the cold, Negan felt a chill flooding his body and he stepped forward to wrap Y/N up in his arms to give her a hug. “I’m sorry if how Joel is toward me makes you uncomfortable.”
“I’m kind of used to Joel being grumpy toward everyone,” she half laughed burying her nose against the side of Negan’s neck. Hearing the sound of a car, she lifted her head up and felt her heart skip a beat. Next door, she caught sight of her parents pulling into the driveway. Stepping away from Negan, she felt a sense of optimism. It was Christmas time and it had been a very long time. By the way they were dressed, Y/N could tell that they had likely been to a party of some kind and were just getting back home. Moving forward, she was hoping to catch her parents’ eye and when she reached a certain spot, she did. Holding her hand up to wave once her mother caught sight of her, Y/N tried to offer up a smile. There was some kind of hope that was lingering there longing for something positive to happen. She should have known better. Immediately, a scowl tugged at her mother’s features when she realized it was Y/N waving to her. It was like a kick to the gut when her father stepped in beside her mother. His reaction time was even faster than her mother’s. Any hope that she had of rekindling a relationship with her parents flew right out the door as quickly as it had entered her mind. With a nudge, her father motioned her mother to move for the door. Neither one of them acknowledged her existence other than that expression of utter disgust. When her mother got to the door, she had looked back at Y/N once more. There was nothing soft in the expression. It was absolute loathing that she could see and it made her chest ache. After they made it inside their home, a pained sound escaped her lips. “Well that hurt more than I thought it would.”
“Fuck them! Do you want me to go say something?” Negan offered, stepping in beside her when she lowered her head and felt embarrassed for even trying. When Negan had left, obviously, Y/N’s parents weren’t like that. So he couldn’t fathom why they would even act like this to begin with. The people he knew seemed to be very loving and caring. Sure, they wanted the best for their daughter, but kicking her out and shunning her completely from their lives? That was probably his biggest shock. “I can. You know I don’t mind putting people in their fucking places.”
“Don’t,” she placed her hand in over the center of Negan’s back hearing him sigh loudly because he wanted to do something. There was nothing he could do that would change their minds. They would just get angry with Negan and who knows what they were capable of these days. “They made up their minds a long time ago that they wanted nothing to do with me or their grandchildren. It just hurts. Every once in a while I get that reminder and it stings just as much as the day they threw me out.”
“I don’t get it,” Negan stated with a rumble, turning on his heel to look down at Y/N. “They have grandchildren that they want nothing to do with. Why?”
“They didn’t agree with me keeping Elizabeth. Peter they want nothing to do with by default,” she educated Negan on the past, her throat tensing up when she thought about the day her parents lectured her about her decision to keep Elizabeth. “They thought I was ruining both my life and Joel’s. I was the embarrassment for them getting pregnant when I did. I thought they’d break once they saw their grandchildren, but they never did. It’s just hard seeing them around town and having them pretend I’m some kind of stranger.”
“Fuck them,” Negan scoffed, reaching out to grab her shoulders to give them a supportive squeeze. “You’re already a better parent than they were. And you didn’t need them helping you for you to get that way. Your children love you. They will never have to want for anything because both you and Joel made sure that you were present in their lives.”
Instead of speaking, she reached up to place her hand in over Negan’s that was on her left shoulder. Hooking her fingers with his, she knew she’d be lying if she said that she wasn’t sad. There was a soft pull at her shoulder with Negan leading her toward the house. Closing everything up, Negan turned off the tv and put out the fire in the fireplace. Moving upstairs, Negan took her toward his bedroom and it made her smile when she entered it.
“This is like it was when we were young,” she mused stepping away from Negan to look around the room. Gazing at all the posters on the wall made her chuckle because she couldn’t believe that Negan’s mother kept it the same after this long. The bookshelves were lined with trophies and she found herself in awe. Stopping, she couldn’t help but notice the few shelves that had photos lined up. Reaching for one of them, a smile spread out over her face. It was a photo of the two of them before they were even teenagers together. They were hugging each other and the young version of Negan was giving the biggest, cheesiest smile ever. “You’ve always been a ham.”
“I worked on that smile my whole life,” Negan stammered drawing her attention back to him. Standing at his dresser, Negan was shirtless starting to change for the night. Doing the same smile that he was in the photo had her laughing out. Negan could always make her laugh. That was something that she was thankful for. Setting that photo down, she reached for another that was the two of them together as teens. How she had been so stupid to things back then swirled through her mind. It made sense to her why Negan ghosted her completely when they were young. Hearing Negan going through things behind her, she set that photo down and then reached for the photo of a teenage Lucille that was on another one of the shelves. “Hey?”
“Yeah?” she swiftly set the photo down and turned on her heel to see Negan was holding out a t-shirt and some sweatpants for her. “Careful. When you give me your clothes, I tend to take them. I have a history of it.”
“If it makes you happy, I don’t care,” Negan chuckled working his slacks off and adjusting the waistband of his boxer briefs. Awe filled his body when she turned to face him and started taking off her clothes. A wolfish smile expanded over his handsome features when he took a seat on the edge of his desk. “I feel like I’m having flashbacks.”
“You still look at me like you did then,” she announced stepping out of the dress that she was wearing standing before him in just her bra and panties. Setting aside the clothes he gave her, she moved in before him and traced her fingers down over the center of his chest having him tremor beneath her touch. “Maybe this is our sign to do what we never could before.”
“Have sex in my bedroom?” Negan snickered having her head tip from side to side considering the whole thing. “No dad to come in and lecture us. Although, I don’t have any condoms again.”
“That didn’t seem to be a problem yesterday,” she noted tracing her fingers over the tattoo that covered his pectoral muscle. A shuddering breath escaped his parted lips with his long eyelashes fluttering to a close with her touching him.
“While I want to,” Negan lifted his hand, his fingers curling around her wrist. Sweeping his fingers over her pulse point, Negan shook his head. Bringing her hand up, he deposited a kiss over the center of her palm. “You’re sad. You’re hiding it. What you need isn’t sex. That’s only a temporary fix.”
“You can’t fix my sad Negan,” she pointed out having him frown at her counter statement. “I can’t expect anyone to change the pain that I’ve felt for almost two decades. You’re my angel, but no one is capable of that. You’ve already made me happier in the last day than I have felt in a long time. I can’t expect you to carry the weight of my woes on your shoulders.”
“I know, but I would be an asshole to take advantage of how you are feeling about your parents,” Negan stepped forward to caress his hands up over her sides. The roughness of his fingertips traced over her flesh and he nuzzled his nose in against hers. “Cuddle with me tonight? Then in the morning if you’re feeling frisky still, we can take a shower together and sneak one in.”
“You’re sticking to your guns, huh?” she breathed out slowly having Negan smirk and nod his head once. “Alright then.”
Stepping away from Negan, she pulled both the shirt and sweatpants on. By the time she turned back to Negan he was laying stretched out on the bed in a pair of pajama pants and an old band t-shirt. Patting beside him on the bed, Negan beckoned her to come lay with him. Moving across the room, she laid next to him and let out an amused breath looking up at the ceiling. There was an array of paintings that Negan had done up there of a space scene when he was younger that they always used to stare at.
“I’m surprised she kept it the same way,” she breathed out lowering her hand to hook her fingers with Negan’s. “I’m sure my parents threw everything out the moment they kicked me out. Yet your mother, she kept everything the same.”
“My mother is great. And that makes me feel bad sometimes. I couldn’t get the fuck away from my father fast enough,” Negan reminded her letting out a long sigh. Negan also had a complicated relationship with his father and she knew that. “I think this was her way of keeping me with her. It’s pretty sweet. Plus it’s nice to come back here to see who I used to be. Where I came from.”
“Sometimes it feels like yesterday,” she turned on her side, resting her head over the center of Negan’s chest. Cuddling her head in closer to him, she felt his arm hooking around her shoulders pulling her close. “It’d be nice to go back and take everything in. Relax.”
A loud exhale fell from Negan before he pressed a kiss against her temple, “I always thought there was a problem with me. Everyone got sick of me after a while. It scares me with Elizabeth and Peter. I worry that they will be like everyone else.”
“There is nothing wrong with you,” Negan denied with a huff, but she lifted her head to give him a tense expression. “There isn’t.”
“My parents threw me away when I was seventeen. You left. Joel got sick of me,” she listed off what she knew to be true having Negan frown. These feelings weren’t something that she just came up with. Ideas of being the problem had been flooding her mind since she was sixteen years old. “There has to be something wrong with me, right?”
“I left because…” Negan swallowed down, his Adam’s apple bouncing in this throat. “It’s complicated, but there was never anything wrong with you. If anything, you were too good. And that makes it easy for people to treat you badly. But I don’t think you have anything to worry about with your children.”
“They love their father more,” she admitted closing her eyes enjoying the way that Negan stroked his fingers through her hair.
“I did too when I was younger,” Negan reminded her, swallowing down hard thinking about his past. At the beginning of his life, Negan admired his father. A lot. His dad was the man he looked up to the most. And he was blind to how amazing his mother was. When he hit his teens, Negan had started to realize how often his father would let him down and hurt him. So he understood how she was feeling, but he knew that within time, he himself had realized his mother was the better parent all along. “It took me growing up and seeing how things were that it was my mother the whole time that was there for me. Loving me. Caring about me. I just was so desperate for his attention that I never saw that she was there the whole time for me. Sometimes it takes growing up to see who the better parent is. Now I’m not saying Joel is a bad father, but I can see how much you love your children. You like talking about them.”
“I’m sorry,” she apologized with a long sigh, but he was quick to hush her. “I know talking about them is what I do the most.”
“I like it,” Negan claimed with a snort, squeezing her in closer to him. “Your self-esteem has been shit on by the world. I think it’s time we work on that because you’re fucking amazing. And you deserve to feel that way. We’re gonna work on that together with my time here. Because I know what you’re capable of and you shouldn’t let people make you feel this way.”
Tipping her head back, she stared up at Negan and sighed. Right now she wished that was a possibility, but after everything she had been through? She wasn’t sure that was obtainable.
----
Tags: @chainsawsangel @fancypeacepersona @violent-darkness @negansbestie @elegantfanficluv
@sanctuaryforthelost @dead-of-niight @dilfsandmartinis
#jeffrey dean morgan#negan#negan x reader#negan fanfiction#twd fanfiction#negan x you#the walking dead#negan smith#Pedro Pascal#Joel Miller#Joel Miller fanfiction#Joel Miller x reader#Joel Miller x you#The Last of Us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#The Last of Us
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Do you think this is the end of MelJay?
I really wished they had at least a scene in ep 9 of Mel searching for Jayce/mourning him... everything seemed to shift in favor of the relationship between Jayce and Victor, and they didn't even had them turn romantic 💀Why then even gut MelJay like that? Was their last scene supposed to be a break up? Because it didn't feel like it?? Idk why they didn't even let them share a last hug/kiss...
I just feel so stupid and bitter 😭😭😭
The ending seems to hint at them being reunited once more because of Swain raven finding the stone where Jayce and Viktor got sucked in and Mel going back to Noxus but... I'm not going to delude myself anymore, no high expectations, I've been hurt enough lol
Sorry for the rant, I have no else to talk about it with 🥹 Hope you have a lovely day 💖
Oh darling feel free to rant in the askbox any time!!
Meljay in Act 3 does not exist to me personally. Arcane Act 3 can't hurt me because it doesn't exist. But also. What the writers did with Meljay was very cheap and quite frankly disappointing. I don't think Meljay are broken up at all. But I feel like all the ships suffered from this (Caitvi's I'm so sorry they would ever do this to you) cheapening of relationships with little regard to like... apologies or emotions (I personally don't believe Vi should have gotten back with Caitlyn, because Caitlyn has not groveled enough imo). So many character choices come off as OOC to me this season. I'm not sure how but there was a ball dropped here. I'll not dwell to much on this because I get angry just thinking about it.
I will say that in my wonderful mind world, Meljay end up together in every universe Viktor hasn't ruined. They are together and they are happy and they COMMUNICATE. They have four kids, and one of their children is a daughter named Ximena and another of their children is a son named Kino. Thank you.
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As he was approaching the house, he heard a familiar voice singing a song as the sound travelled through the open windows and out into the streets. The voice perhaps was not the most talented but it was not awful either and he found it oddly soothing to listen to.
this one gives me such disney vibes, now all that's missing are the animals that listen to her singing 🤣🤣
“Ye always say it's givin' ye headaches,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes with a sigh. “Anyhow, I'm off to work now,” she informed him with a sweet smile and approached him to place a kiss upon his cheek.
what an idiot the og halbrand were
Because Halbrand most likely had broken such promises many times before and Sauron had planned that, too. But now, looking deep into her eyes, he suddenly wanted to change his mind. He did not want to be like Halbrand – he wanted to be a better version of him.
my heaaart oh my god 😭
“Oh, but it's different, is it not? This man deserves it,” Sauron hissed out and when he was sure that (Y/N) kept glancing at the guards, he allowed his eyes to transform into two snake-like orbs that visibly terrified the rude man.
okay, that one was kinda hot. okay, it was REALLY hot
“Halbrand, please. They need you,” Galadriel stood up and put her hand on his shoulder before lowering her voice. “I need you,” she added and looked down before leaving the house quietly.
“I know ye want to. Just go, claim the title that's not yours, go on. But don't be stupid enough to think she'd ever want ye the way ye want her. Please, husband, don't embarrass yerself by thinkin' she'd want a filthy, ragged commoner,” (Y/N) whispered but in her voice there was no malice – it was pure worry and concern. Love.
to be loved, is to be changed 🫶🏽
all he needs is love
What if it was a second chance for him? Not for Sauron, but for the real him – Mairon…? What if it was his chance to get redeemed? To be at peace finally as if all the suffering Morgoth had put him through had never taken place?
the way i love his thoughts
“It doesn't matter, love. I love ye the way ye are now – more than I've ever loved ye, even though I didn't think it was possible,” she confessed and Sauron felt his heart swelling inside his chest as he leaned down to join their lips together in a loving kiss.
OBSESSED
It was the first time ever when he felt… tired. In the simplest and most common way, he felt exhausted and his stomach seemed to demand to have a meal.
OH MY GOD!!! DOES THAT MEAN…
“I think I'm expectin', Hal,” she told him, excitedly. “I wasn't sure but my friends at work said those are the very symptoms!” She added happily and he froze as he blinked slowly a few times, trying to process the new information.
“You're not sleeping around, are you?” He asked before he could think about the rubbish leaving his mouth.
saying in hermiones voice: what. an. idiot.
“Tell me, love,” he started and she raised an eyebrow at him, “are you a spirit sent to me from Valinor to lead me back on the right path? Have I passed the test?” He dared to ask and he could swear, there was a small sparkle lighting up her eyes for a short while. But then, she only laughed.
MAYBE SHE REALLY IS
this makes me think about so many things at the same time 😮😮 it would be mind blowing, and a REAL plottwist
or she was just happy to hear him say that 🧐
His wife.
i’m crying this is perfect
“And for me?! For me?!” He felt something tugging at his tunic and he laughed at the sight of his excited daughter. He gave her a hug, too and caressed her ruffled hair as she gave him a toothless smile.
two children?? my heart is full
i love how you said it in the beginning because i’m a sucker for happy endings too. and i love this fic with all my heart, because it was everything about a happy ending.
truly amazing lily, a real masterpiece 🤍🤍
— SOMEPLACE BETTER (III)
PART ONE || PART TWO
PAIRING — Sauron x fem!human(?)!Reader
SUMMARY — Lady Galadriel keeps convincing Halbrand and his wife to change their minds and go back to Middle-earth but Sauron is starting to realise that this new life might be his chance to start all over and redeem himself.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — As I warned, in this part Sauron is very ooc but I'm a sucker for happy endings... I couldn't picture it any other way with a mortal Reader tbh... 🤷🏻♀️ Although, whether she is really a human or not – I let you decide and interpret it whatever way you wish! 😉💝 The song The Reader sings in this part is called Lonesome Road and I know it from Joan Baez but I changed the lyrics a little so they could fit the fantasy world better.
WORD COUNT — 4,570
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
SOMEPLACE BETTER (III)
Even though he thought Halbrand's wife had given up on him already, it seemed to be quite otherwise. The guards came to Sauron in the early morning to tell him that he was free to go under a condition to never start any fight on the streets of Númenor ever again. Next time, the Queen Regent would not be so merciful. And now, she would even give him a chance to prove his worth and earn the guild crest.
Apparently, (Y/N) had spent nearly the whole night begging and pleading after getting an audience.
Free to go anywhere he wanted to, he simply decided to walk back to his new home and wait there for Lady Galadriel to show up with the next idea or opportunity.
It was not going according to his plan – (Y/N) had made sure of it. But it was still going well enough and that was what mattered the most.
As he was approaching the house, he heard a familiar voice singing a song as the sound travelled through the open windows and out into the streets. The voice perhaps was not the most talented but it was not awful either and he found it oddly soothing to listen to.
Slowly and quietly, Sauron walked inside the house and leaned on the wall with crossed arms as he watched (Y/N) with a smirk. She had her back turned on him and had no idea he was there as she busied herself with brushing her hair in front of a small mirror and preparing to go to her new work.
And while doing so, she was singing. Sauron listened with curiosity because he had missed many new songs in the time when he had been regaining his strength to go back to the world of living.
And he had never been familiar with the songs of common people anyway.
“They say all good friends must part sometime. Why not you and I, my Lord? Why not you and I?” (Y/N) sang softly. “Oh, I wish to the gods that I'd never been born or died when I was a baby, my Lord… Or died when I was a baby,” she added and Sauron swallowed a lump in his throat.
He had no idea he would be able to see himself in a song written by commoners and yet, he sometimes wondered himself why the Valar had created him. And he often wished they had not. It would save him pain and suffering that he was not able to speak of.
“Oh, I wish to the gods that I'd never seen your face, heard your lyin' tongue, my Lord… Heard your lyin' tongue,” (Y/N) kept going with the song as she put some rouge upon her cheeks. “You better look up and down that long, lonesome road where all of your friends have gone, my Lord, and you and I must go…” she continued humming and then she jumped up at the sight of him standing behind her with crossed arms. “Oi, Hal, I haven't seen ye. Forgive me, I know ye don't like it when I sing,” she got nervous in an instant.
“I don't?” Sauron raised an eyebrow, surprised.
“Ye always say it's givin' ye headaches,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes with a sigh. “Anyhow, I'm off to work now,” she informed him with a sweet smile and approached him to place a kiss upon his cheek.
He let her but when she wanted to move away, he grabbed her wrists to keep her in place and she raised an eyebrow at him.
“What have you done to free me, love?” He asked in a whisper.
“I begged and pleaded for ye, Hal,” she answered. “Told the good Queen ye're naught but a man who wants to work, with a pride that's hurt. I promised ye wouldn't get in trouble again. An' ye better not.” (Y/N)'s eyes filled with pain as if she knew already he would break the promise.
Because Halbrand most likely had broken such promises many times before and Sauron had planned that, too. But now, looking deep into her eyes, he suddenly wanted to change his mind. He did not want to be like Halbrand – he wanted to be a better version of him.
“I don't deserve you,” he admitted and caressed her cheek gently.
“Start, then,” she challenged him with a cracked smile and patted his chest before going out of the house.
And even though Sauron was tempted to stay inside and wait for Lady Galadriel to show up, he walked out as well and went to the forge nearby where he was supposed to start his own training to be able to earn the guild crest.
Humiliating it was and very humbling for the disciple of Aulë to be reduced to the role of a common smith's errand boy.
When Sauron was coming back from work, it was getting dark already. He was walking slowly down the steps and whistling the very same song he had heard earlier that day – the one Halbrand's wife had been singing.
In his hands he was carrying a few coins he had earned on that day and he was playing with them by tossing them in the air and catching them swiftly right after. As he approached the harbour, he spotted (Y/N) standing by one of the wooden tables and selling the goods to the people standing in the queue.
He wondered why she was left alone by the stand but assumed the woman working with her was having a break. And the closer to the market he was getting, the more he could see how stressed Halbrand's wife seemed to be.
“You useless woman, you can't even count properly, can you?!” Sauron heard some man's harsh words due to the fact his hearing was much better than if he was truly human.
“I-I'm sorry, I'm still learnin'. How much do I owe ye, then?” (Y/N) was trying to sound nice.
“You're good for nothing, stupid wench,” the man spat out. “Where is Bellona?”
“She had to leave earlier today. Please, it is no big deal. Let me just give you back the money and–”
“You should go back to Middle-earth where low women like you belong,” the man interrupted her.
Sauron didn't think much in that moment as the primal instincts took over him. He hid his coins away and hurried to (Y/N)'s stand as he grabbed the rude man by his tunic and turned him around.
“Are you bothering my wife?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Hal!” (Y/N) squealed, looking nervously at the guards that were already coming their way after sensing trouble. “Let go of him, I beg ye! Ye promised me ye wouldn't–”
“Oh, but it's different, is it not? This man deserves it,” Sauron hissed out and when he was sure that (Y/N) kept glancing at the guards, he allowed his eyes to transform into two snake-like orbs that visibly terrified the rude man.
Sauron let go of his tunic the moment he heard the guards standing behind him and the man hurried away as quickly as possible.
“It's nothin', it's nothin'!” (Y/N) exclaimed at the guards. “I'm closin' for the day! Please, let us go.”
The men looked at each other but since the other man had run away and did not file any complaint, they just shrugged their arms and walked away alongside the rest of the people waiting in the queue.
“Ye promised!” (Y/N) gave Sauron a very scolding look as she busied herself with tidying up the stand and collecting the money.
“If you think I am going to let some bastard treat you this way, love, then you are mistaken. If I must rot in that cell for a lifetime, then I shall,” Sauron shrugged his arms and Halbrand's wife looked at him as if he had just said something crazy.
“Since when are ye so gifted with words, Hal?” She chuckled and shook her head. “Anyhow, in that cell, ye won't be 'round to protect me. Foolish, it'd be, but ye've never been the brightest, have ye?” she pointed out and Sauron gritted his teeth with an eye roll.
She kept blabbering to him about her day while they walked back to their house and even though it was a short road, it felt like forever due to her talking. However, Sauron was very surprised at the sight of Lady Galadriel sitting by the table when they entered the house.
He had been waiting for her to come and now he was shocked, nearly startled. As if he had forgotten already about his scheme.
“Oi!” (Y/N) put her hands on her hips. “Is it not illegal to sneak up on folk like that inside their own homes, Elf?!” She asked. “When'll ye leave us be, huh?”
“The Queen Regent agreed to gather the army. They will seek for the volunteers,” Galadriel announced. “People of Númenor might not need you, Halbrand, but when we arrive in The Southlands, a strong leader will be needed. Someone to unite and show the way.”
“Someone to lie, ye say,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes and finally closed the door behind her. “But go on, Elf, keep talkin'. I'm sure my husband'll agree sooner or later. Vain as he is, always has been,” she sighed as if she was defeated.
Sauron felt an odd tug inside his heart at those words. Even though going with Galadriel to Middle-earth and continuing his plan while leaving annoying (Y/N) behind would be an ideal outcome… He felt challenged now to refuse Galadriel just to show (Y/N) that he could do better than that.
“I have already told the Queen Regent who you most likely are,” Galadriel insisted, ignoring Halbrand's wife and looking deep into his eyes.
“You must be desperate,” he pointed out with a smirk and watched his angry wife unpacking the groceries from her wicker basket on the kitchen counter.
“Of course I am. And you should be, too. It is about your home. Why do you give up on it so easily?” Galadriel wondered out loud.
“It gave up on us long before we ever gave up on it,” (Y/N) turned around to answer her.
“This land was your place in Middle-earth. It was giving you vegetables to eat, grass to feed your animals with, clean water from the rivers…” Lady Galadriel pointed out.
“And what do ye know about it, grand Elf?” (Y/N) rolled her eyes at that. “It ain't easy work growin' yer vegetables an' keepin' yer animals alive. One bad winter's all it takes to take away yer loved ones, yer cows, horses, an' chickens. I've no love for that land,” she stated, harshly.
“You can change the fate of people who suffer like you have suffered…” Galadriel's voice softened. “As their Queen,” she tempted and Sauron raised an eyebrow, surprised to see how dirty she could play.
Nearly as dirty as him.
“Me? A Queen?” (Y/N) laughed at that. “I can't even read!” She only said and turned around again to deal with the groceries.
“Halbrand, please. They need you,” Galadriel stood up and put her hand on his shoulder before lowering her voice. “I need you,” she added and looked down before leaving the house quietly.
Long silence occurred between Sauron and Halbrand's wife.
“Go with her,” (Y/N) muttered.
“What?” Sauron looked at her, surprised. She turned around to lay her wet eyes on him.
“I know ye want to. Just go, claim the title that's not yours, go on. But don't be stupid enough to think she'd ever want ye the way ye want her. Please, husband, don't embarrass yerself by thinkin' she'd want a filthy, ragged commoner,” (Y/N) whispered but in her voice there was no malice – it was pure worry and concern. Love.
“I'm not that stupid,” Sauron approached her with hesitance and put his hands on her arms to comfort her. “I know you're the only woman who is crazy enough to love me.”
“But is that enough to make ye stay?” She asked and her lower lip trembled.
He did not answer but he pulled her close to his chest to wrap his arms around her and kiss the top of her head.
Sauron was laying awake all night long as usual, caressing the back of Halbrand's wife and staring at the ceiling. He knew they would gather the volunteers on the next day and he still was not sure what to do.
The path he had chosen for himself was not so certain anymore. He truly did not mind the life he had here in Númenor and even (Y/N)'s presence was becoming less and less annoying to him. In fact – even though she had no idea who he truly was – it felt oddly nice to be loved and taken care of. As simple as that.
He extended his hand to the nightstand and brushed the pendant laying there with his fingertips as he remembered the very first conversation he had had with the heraldry's original owner – Diarmid.
“A sure path may crumble, but there's always another. Often, it can lead us someplace better. Someplace good. They say there's a place across the sea, a man can escape himself. Find another path. Perhaps another life.”
What if it was a second chance for him? Not for Sauron, but for the real him – Mairon…? What if it was his chance to get redeemed? To be at peace finally as if all the suffering Morgoth had put him through had never taken place?
(Y/N) shifted slightly in his arms and he looked down at her face that was now lit up by the first rays of the rising sun getting through the window. At that moment, that common and simple woman looked like the most beautiful creature in the whole world to him. And she certainly felt like peace.
“Is it time to wake up now, love?” She mumbled out, sleepily.
“No, love, not yet. I will tell you when,” he assured her.
“Good,” she smiled and nuzzled her face deeper into him.
“(Y/N)?” Sauron swallowed a lump in his throat as he fidgeted with the pendant between his fingers.
“Hm?”
“What if I told you I was not your husband?” He tried to make it sound light-hearted as if he was jesting. “That I'm a spirit that took over his body at that time when he was away while the village was being attacked?” He looked down at her, nervously.
“Ye're crazy, Hal,” she chuckled and opened her eyes lazily. Then, she tilted her head and reached her hand up to caress his hair. “But, mayhaps, I'd believe that, ye know? 'Cause ye've changed a lot since then,” she admitted and hesitated for a moment as she bit on her lower lip. “It doesn't matter, love. I love ye the way ye are now – more than I've ever loved ye, even though I didn't think it was possible,” she confessed and Sauron felt his heart swelling inside his chest as he leaned down to join their lips together in a loving kiss.
As he watched the ships sail away on that day, Sauron couldn't believe that he was simply letting them go. He saw Lady Galadriel standing in her shining armour, holding her sword. She was still glancing at him as if she expected him to jump into the waters and join them no matter what.
He wondered why she was so drawn to him, even after (Y/N)'s big mouth had made it clear that he was not any forgotten king. Could Galadriel feel who he was, deep inside?
But who was he? He was not sure anymore.
So, he looked away and went back on the road that would lead him to the forge where he worked these days. He was told he would get his guild crest very soon because they were in awe of his extraordinary talents.
Not only talent was his quality, though. It was also how much he was able to work at once and without breaks. At least it had been this way until recently.
It was the first time ever when he felt… tired. In the simplest and most common way, he felt exhausted and his stomach seemed to demand to have a meal. He nearly fainted at the end of his shift and when he dragged his feet back home, he was yawning. Surely, it would worry him under any other circumstances but now he was simply too tired to overthink what could have caused it. Was it some sort of a curse put on him by angry Lady Galadriel?
“Halbrand!” (Y/N)'s worried tone brought him back to reality when he entered the house.
She hurried to him and cupped his cheeks with widened eyes.
“Love, ye're so pale, an' the bags under yer eyes… What happened?!”
“Nothing happened,” Sauron shrugged his arms. “I'm just tired, that's it. I nearly fainted,” he admitted and sat down on the chair, sighing out of relief to finally be able to rest a little.
“Well, that's no wonder! Ye've been eatin' half meals for weeks now!” Halbrand's wife pointed out in a scolding manner. “We're not starvin' anymore, Hal, ye don't have to keep givin' me yer portions!” She exclaimed and approached the stove to pour him a bowl full of soup. “Here, eat,” she ordered as she placed it in front of him.
And, for some reason, Sauron ate all of it in a blink of an eye. He even asked for one more portion as Halbrand's wife gave it to him gladly but not without more of her whining about him being irresponsible. Then he asked for another and after three bowls of her soup, he finally felt better.
His stomach was no longer hurting at least, but he was still sleepy.
“Go, take some rest, love,” (Y/N) shook her head. “Ye don't sleep enough, don't eat enough. At least ye're not drinkin' and gamblin' anymore, but ye can't go on like this. Do ye want to die before forty, Hal? I ain't lettin' that happen!” She continued with her usual whining and he rolled his eyes.
“How can I rest when you keep your mouth open?!” Sauron asked and she huffed but she went silent and left him alone in the bedroom as she went back to the kitchen to clean the bowl after his soup.
It was the very first time when Sauron fell asleep not out of boredom or the need of dissociation but out of exhaustion.
And when he opened his eyes again, it was the next morning already and (Y/N) was shaking him to wake him up.
“Halbrand! Ye're gonna be late for work!” She exclaimed.
“But… I'm still tired…” He mumbled out, not understanding what was happening to him.
“Like all of us working folk each mornin'!” (Y/N) laughed. “Come on, I'm not lettin' ye out without breakfast, go to the kitchen,” she hurried him and he rubbed his eyes before nodding at her.
Sauron began to suspect that he was turning into a human for some time now but it took an unusual revelation to convince him that it was truly happening indeed.
(Y/N) was grinning widely on that day when he came back home and she welcomed him by throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him all over his face as he tried to give back some of the kisses. When she finally stopped, she fixed his brand new guild crest and batted her eyelashes while looking up to stare into his eyes.
“What is it?” He asked.
“I think I'm expectin', Hal,” she told him, excitedly. “I wasn't sure but my friends at work said those are the very symptoms!” She added happily and he froze as he blinked slowly a few times, trying to process the new information.
“That is… Impossible,” he furrowed his brows.
“I used to think so, too. Married for so long with no babe of our own but I was wishin' and hopin' and here we are!” She clapped her hands like an excited child. “Perhaps it was that damned Middle-earth not being good for us, Hal, but here we can!”
Sauron took a deep breath in. She didn't understand – it was not about being fertile or not. It was about the fact he was a Maia and there was no possibility of him putting a baby in her without doing it with his own free will.
Unless…
“You're not sleeping around, are you?” He asked before he could think about the rubbish leaving his mouth.
(Y/N) froze at his words and her smile turned into a frown. She approached him at this very moment and slapped his face. Hard. He could feel it like any mortal would now and he admitted it truly hurt.
“How dare ye, Halbrand?! Ye wretched bastard! Even if ye meant to jest, that was uncalled for!” She raised her voice as he rubbed his cheek and winced out of pain.
“I'm sorry, love, I haven't thought before speaking. I just can't believe it…” He tried to excuse himself. “Please, forgive me.”
Her face didn't look so angry anymore but she didn't say anything and turned around without a word to walk away.
In fact, she didn't say a word to him for the rest of the day and only at night when she was deep asleep, he dared to touch her abdomen slightly with his hand.
He wasn't able to feel any presence there but these days he couldn't feel anything, to be honest. He couldn't hear nor see as much either. He was losing his abilities as time was passing.
Sauron kept his hand there, on the belly of Halbrand's wife, and he sighed. It was happening, whether he liked it or not. And he was not even sure anymore if he wanted it or not.
As he got lost in the train of thought, he realised that he had been caressing (Y/N) abdomen all that time without thinking. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled gently at him.
“Hal, ye son of a bitch,” she shook her head and giggled as she took his hand carefully and brought it to her lips to place a few small and sweet kisses upon his knuckles. “I swear, ye're gonna be the death of me.”
“And you are going to be the death of me,” he chuckled and leaned in to peck her lips.
She was going to be. Literally.
This body would start growing old normally now and, eventually, he would pass away like every mortal. But maybe he would do that laying in a bed, holding her hand and surrounded by their children.
When they broke the kiss, (Y/N) smiled widely and caressed her husband's cheeks lovingly. She looked ethereal at that moment and a crazy thought appeared inside of his head.
“Tell me, love,” he started and she raised an eyebrow at him, “are you a spirit sent to me from Valinor to lead me back on the right path? Have I passed the test?” He dared to ask and he could swear, there was a small sparkle lighting up her eyes for a short while. But then, she only laughed.
“Go back to sleep, ye madman,” she patted his chest lightly and turned around while laughing softly.
He kept staring at her for some time more, then he went back to looking at the ceiling. And, eventually, he turned around as well to wrap his arm around the waist of Halbrand's wife.
His wife.
Halbrand was coming back from work slowly while playing with the little horse forged out of iron in his hand as he hummed a song. The sun was setting slowly on the horizon when he approached the harbour where (Y/N) was slowly tidying up her stand on the market.
Her own one, that she had earned finally and was so proud of it as she was working for herself now and was able to bring more money home.
He watched her tidy up with a loving smile and their son was helping her while talking to her excitedly about something – his mouth would never close just like his mother's.
“Daddy!” He spotted him finally and ran up to him as (Y/N) chuckled.
“Hey, little man,” Halbrand crouched down to give his son a hug. “How was your day?”
“It was good!” The boy nodded. “I helped mummy a bit. And yours, daddy?”
“I made this for you,” Halbrand handed him the little horse and the boys' eyes sparkled at the sight.
“So pretty! Thank you, daddy!” He wrapped his little arms around Halbrand's neck to give him another hug and Halbrand patted his back.
“And for me?! For me?!” He felt something tugging at his tunic and he laughed at the sight of his excited daughter. He gave her a hug, too and caressed her ruffled hair as she gave him a toothless smile.
“I have something for you, too, Princess,” Halbrand assured her and took another item out of his pocket – a seashell made out of iron.
He had made sure it was crafted with the best precision and with all the tiny details, therefore it looked nearly like a real seashell. Only it was silver, which made it even better in his little girl's eyes.
“Thank you, daddy!” She giggled as she squinted her eyes at the shell and kept examining it under every possible angle.
“You spoil 'em way too much!” (Y/N) stood above him and he stood up to greet her with a short peck on the cheek.
“Somebody has to,” Halbrand answered playfully and his wife shot him a glance, which made his son giggle.
“Stop sayin' nonsense and let's go back home,” she shook her head and walked away slowly.
He watched his children follow her happily and he did, too, but much slower as he stared at the sun setting on the horizon. The sky looked like a canva full of pink and orange hues and he took a deep breath in at the beauty of it.
It was nearly as peaceful and beautiful as back in the day in Valinor. Mortals perhaps were not welcome there but, apparently, they could also experience wonders as marvellous.
And perhaps this whole life was built on a lie because he couldn't imagine telling (Y/N) the truth about who he truly was and that her real husband had been dead for years. That he had died because of gambling and drinking after leaving her alone when she was being attacked by the Orcs. There was no point in telling her even if she would somehow believe him. It would only bring her useless pain and he knew very well that her actual husband would most likely never do all these things he had done to make her happy. He would not love her right like he could.
“Ye comin', Hal?” His wife's voice brought him back to reality.
Halbrand nodded at her and joined her side to take his daughter by her little hand.
After all, it was not the sunset but her and her brother that were the real wonders. And it was not Númenor that he called home but it was them – they were his better place.
MASTERLIST
#he really has found his someplace better#i love it so much#he deserves it#fic rec#halbrand x reader#sauron x reader#the rings of power
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Ok you guys I went to sleep at 1 am and woke up at fucking 5 am to watch arcane so here are my thoughts/review:
After I finished it, first of all, I was mad lmao, then I thought about it for a moment and I started crying, but like ugly crying with sobs and everything because holy shit Jayce and Viktor, then I stopped crying, thought about it a bit more, and I got mad Again lmao
Now spoilers
It was a fucking mess lmao
Like seriously what the fuck fortiche, what the fuck Riot, it was such a fucking mess, it was all over the place, the story was rushed, the characters arcs were rushed, there was a lot of things that felt very forced because they didn't have time to let it happen naturally and I can tell a lot of things that would've been good were left in the inkpot
About Cait and Vi: I truly and honestly couldn't have care less about them lmao
I know I know
But I already fucking knew they were going to end up together that Vi was going to forgive Cait for being a fascist etc etc, for me their arc was already finished and I didn't have time to care about them because I was more worried about what the heck would happen to the other characters and how in hell would they wrap up that mess. If they would've cut all their scenes and gave that time to Mel or something, I would've been so fucking happy
Also, the sex scene annoyed me so much lmao, I was thinking "IF YOU WANTED A SEX SCENE YOU SHOULD'VE ADDED ANOTHER SEASON FORTICHE! WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THAT NOW!" lmao
Mel: I liked the concept of her arc, I like the theory, I can see their vision, what they were going for
But in reality it wasn't fucking that
Like, I like the idea of having Mel realize that she was much more than the daughter of her mother, that she had her own value for who she was instead of simply being the blood in her veins. But boy, it didn't feel at all like she realized that lmao
It just felt like she was "now I'm confident enough about myself to confront my mother because the writers said so" like what? This is what I mean when I say that a lot of things felt forced
Viktor: ok, ok I'm just like *heavy sigh*
To be honest part of why I was mad at first was Viktor's character, I was like "So what? You stop being a humanity loving pacifist to become a fucking control freak who hates free will and emotions just like that?" But then I thought about it, and if you frame his arc through Jayce, it actually made sense, because you see, everything he did was for Jayce. When he came back and went to build his cult, I mean, Commune, he was doing their hextech dream, the thing they always wanted, the thing Jayce always wanted
When Jayce went and rejected him by shooting him in the chest (thanks Jayce) he was hurt, he lashed out and wanted to get rid of all emotions, ironically it was a very emotional reaction. So then as soon as Jayce was back with him, he realized his mistake and stopped
So yeah, it makes sense, the problem is that I shouldn't have to stop and piece together a character motivation like that Fortiche what the hell. I know some people say "let the audience do some work!" But I feel like I'm doing all the fucking work here
What they did was great! Good! But just like Mel, give it more fucking time please
And the machine herald design was a bit ugly lmao, like his design in the game looks better, but thinking about it, and looking at the other robots design and how Viktor dresses in the series. I think it makes sense that this specific Viktor would design something like that
EDIT: Oh! I Also forgot to add:
My favorite scene of him was when Jayce was taking out all of those things one by one and Viktor waited until he was done to push them all back LMAO he didn't need to do that
Jayce:
Jayce, what the hell
Like, I understand why Viktor acted like he did, but like, what was up with you?
I mean, the end implied that he knew all along what was going to happen (machine herald, save Viktor etc), but like, why did he acted so angry at the commune then? He seemed so erratic and Angry like he didn't know what was going to happen, but he knew, and then he switched back to normal but like, what was up with all of what happened before? If anything, why didn't just he let Viktor get to the hexgate peacefully and then talk to him? Idk, it just seems to me like Jayce was the character the most affected by the crossfire of the plot happening because the writers had a very specific ending in mind and no time to get to that ending naturally
Also "hextech is bad" Then proceeds to let everyone keep using it lmao
Ambessa and Singed: of all the characters I think these one were the worst of all lmao
Like the plot completely changed Jayce and forced Mel, but like, these two just were put aside? Lmao
Everyone at Fortiche was like "Fuck Ambessa and Fuck Singed" which is a shame because these two were really interesting
Ekko and Jinx:
I think of all the other characters, these two were the best ones
I didn't feel like their arc was forced, it felt like they were given enough time, but you know why? Because their arc started in season 1, in this season they just finished it
The only thing I will complain about is Isha, because it just feels like they used her and completely discarded her after like a broken toy. Like Silco was waaay better handled than her
Heimmerdinger: I mean, I didn't care much about him lmao, he was only there because the plot needed him, and when he wasn't necessary anymore they got rid of him lmao
But it was less obvious than Isha at least
Viktor and Jayce: now, this is the part that got me fucking crying so much, and this along with Ekko and Jinx are the things that make me feel conflicted about this ending and not hate it as much as I would otherwise
It was all left ambiguous, and the cynical part of me thinks "of course they can't make it any more obvious because then the dude bros who main Viktor and Jayce in LoL are going to cry about how they don't want to play as a man who wants to kiss another man"
But if I take it at face value... Ngl guys, it was good
Like how Jayce chose Viktor after everything he did, how Viktor tried to push Jayce away to protect him but Jayce refused to leave, how all they wanted wasn't progress, or fame or power, but simply be together. And they got to be together in the end
Damn, I'm crying again
I JUST FUCKING WISH EVERYTHING AROUND IT WASN'T A MESS!
And I wanted to add, when everyone in Zaun went to help everyone in Piltover to deal with Ambessa, I wouldn't have done that, fuck them, they put a fucking fascist dictator on power, probably made a lot of people "dissappear" and just like that they are like "Guys, we're sorry, we need your help now :(" fuck that
In the end, it doesn't feel like Fortiche earned this ending. Season 2 should've ended with Arc 2, and Arc 3 should've been a whole season
And I can't give it a rating, because I don't know, I didn't like a lot of it, but there were some parts that I really fucking loved
But if someone asked me if it was worth to give the series a try, I would say yes, but don't get your hopes up for the ending lmao
#ramblings#arcane#jayvik#viktor#viktor arcane#jayce talis#ekko#ekko arcane#Jinx#jinx arcane#caitlyn kiramman#vi arcane#arcane season 2#timebomb#mel medarda#mel arcane
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my main problem with the ending of arcane s2 (as a person who never and still knows nothing about league of legends lore) is how big the world became, and past the initial crux of piltover vs. zaun:
the arc of arcane has always been really about vi and jinx and how they r representative, almost microcosms of the reality of zaun, violently controlled and forced into worse circumstances, poverty, addiction, crime- all of these things by piltover
inherently the story is around classism, about resisting your oppressors, and season 2 rlly frames the story of the “imperfect hero” - act 2 surrounded the idea of jinx being an emblem and the necessity of zaun’s resistance in order to exceed their circumstances of survival- but the death of her, of simply adding one board member to the council
Of not really fleshing out why or how zaun and piltover simply “got over” their war in order to fight for the greater bad?
Jinx was always going to have a bad ending, from the start- to her hero storyline- it was destined to happen- but reducing it to that simple of a death with little meaning or showcase of the impact she’s had??? Also - controversial opinion possibly?? But I’ve always felt the real hero of zaun was ekko- loved jinx’s and his scenes together but I wanted more in terms of the symbolism of him being the real hero and jinx acknowledging together than their resistance, that their love for zaun was more important than anything, that they understood eachother and their place.
Never been a fan of the caitvi storyline, particularly when it takes precedence over interesting storyline- idgaf about a fucking fascist?? why did we excuse this??? how did we excuse this? did we forget the chemical warfare she casually dealt out? that vi became perfectly fine because they’re in love? Sis, your parents were murdered alongside half of zaun- also fair was a huge part of the copaganda storyline which has never been my favourite- so having the only fine ending for them was a rlly interesting choice.
are we not gonna talk about singed who had almost no allegiances to either piltover or zaun but simply to his daughter who seemed perfectly happy at the end - did he achieve immortality, how does he escape any consequences- sucks that he had no real agenda because I feel that was a missed character choice!
I think the first two acts felt rlly phenomenal in fleshing out the moral ambiguities that come with “war” and how in order to gain freedom, it is never gained through merely peaceful methods - act 3 almost completely dismissed or forgoed that idea
I also may have just missed a bunch of stuff!
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Burrows End
“It’s interesting to watch someone go from wanting to survive, to wanting to live” -Teedles
“It’s better to go together than to go alone” -Viola
"Gentle parenting is an aspiration but sometimes you have to tell these kids to get out of this fucking bear"-Brennan Lee Mulligan
"We prepare for the worst that could happen, and the worst has happened and you’re still alive."-Viola
"The truth is that the blue, the monsters, the dust in the air, all that, the real reason that grown-ups talk about this like they have a big secret is because we're scared too. Because as much as you think we know everything, the biggest secret of all is we mostly don’t. And that’s what we hide from you. The thing we hide from the kids isn’t that we know everything it’s that we don’t know everything. Cause we don’t want you to be scared." -Tula
“I can’t put any more effort into being a daughter”- Tula
“You can’t guarantee safety. You can’t guarantee that you get to hold onto everyone forever. What you do get to choose is who you love.” -Tula
“This isn’t just corruption it’s power. But is there a good type of power?”-Viola
“I’ve seen very powerful people collect power, and I’ve seen un-powerful people do what they can to get by, and I think the things they both have in common is none of them ever seem to have any choice about what happens next. I wouldn’t spend life chasing power. It’s hard enough just to chase happiness” -Tula
“Funerals are so often not for the dead, but for the people they leave behind.”-Aabria Iyengar
“How can you not look back when something sees you?” -Aabria
“If we’re in the dark we know nothing, and if we know nothing, we’re not safe.” -Thorn
“I think the truth is, the monsters were always going to be coming back.” -Sybil
“What are a bunch of monsters to all of us and everything we can do?” -Sybil
“Whatever we have discovered, these monsters were clever enough to make, and they do know it better than us. No matter how much we are obsessed with it, confident that we can harness it, the sky and the water. That’s the blue. That’s where we come from. For all we know, where it comes from is these monsters. So I don’t know where this confidence comes from, but if confidence could keep you alive, then Geoffery would still be here.”-Tula
“There’s always something unknown and scary, monsters in the dark trying to get you, but when you find something in people that can help push that back, you hang onto that.” -Ava
“The radical change that can happen when you are kind in the face of doom can change the battlefield.” -Tula
“Look around us, there is nothing but death, and all I can see is people squabbling.” -Thorn
“If you want power so badly, you have it.” -Bennett
“I think that someone who kills other beings to absorb how they live is something that wants power more than any person I’ve ever seen.” -Viola
“We’ve spoken a lot about hope and a lot about survival, maybe there is something else that we can do that isn’t just pushing them back and hoping that they don’t come back with a bigger and bigger thing and scarier truck and all these things that will end all of our lives.” -Thorn
“A little pro tip, don’t do a bunch of mass murder, without having a little plan first.” -Olliver
“It was unlucky that we lost dad, and it was lucky that we had you.” -Tula
“Well I don’t like thinking about luck because if things happen by chance , then that means I have no control over what happens to you two or your kids.” -Ava
“You can’t lead with your fists” -Viola
“Chaos is good from time to time, but so is order. There’s a balance. You have to be able to embrace change, but you also have to be able to know when there is structure needed.” -Tula
“Power exists. Power should make you sad and tired. Anyone who seems to like power is suspect.”-Tula
#dimension 20#dox.jpeg#brennan lee mulligan#aabria iyengar#jasper william cartwright#erika ishii#siobhan thompson#izzy roland#burrow's end#rashawn scott#Dox’s quote book.png
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i just fell in love with a married woman on tik tok i would kill her husband for a chance w her
#ok jokes#they seem happy and they have a daughter together#but my god she might quite literally be the most stunning gorjus amazing beautiful showstopping slayqueening world dominating woman i have#ever#EVERRRR#seen
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okay but have we considered morgana x freya?? two women who believed themselves to be monsters, hunted by the same man and his loyal followers, cursed, doomed to death the moment someone finds them out, alone. they wish for freedom, somewhere where they can be themselves, where they dont have to hide, where they can embrace their power and who they are without fear or without harming anyone.
#morgana pendragon#morgana le fay#freya#bbc merlin#morgana x freya#freygana#fregana#morya#moreya#???#idk but listen#they just. it works.#morgana finding freya and helping her while also finally having a companion in camelot to talk about magic to#specifically HER magic#they have their dream of running away together and living peacefully with one another on a lake in the mountains#they run away together before morgause can get her claws in morgana#uther begins to mentally deteriorate from his daughter- cough i mean ward's disappearance and morgause's reappearance#in this au...morgause is the one who is constantly fighting against camelot bc she blames them for her sister's presumed death#and their persecution against her own kind#but since morgause was never fated or destined to kill arthur......HE LIVES#meanwhile. morgana is being a cottagecore lesbian with her sick werecat girlfriend#damn i actually might write this LMAOOO it seems fun#mordred. uhm. idk. is cool??#he is fregana's adopted son who is also merlin's adopted younger brother and percival and arthur's adopted son#and when his little gf is brought before arthur. everyone is kinda like 'ur not rlly gonna murk this kids girl? are you?'#and while arthur is debating it heavily...BOOM magical gfs emerge and bully arthur into letting her go#then idk magic ban repeal and everyones happy#yippee
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Help me get my life back, achieve my goal, and save the rest of my family
Education, which was young Tulin's passion, now seems like a distant memory, as there is no school, no home, and no safe place. The war has forced us to abandon our dreams and our work. Life as we knew it has stopped, swallowed up by a sea of uncertainty, loss and despair
• My daughter Tulane is a radiant ray of sunshine, bringing joy, warmth and boundless love to everyone she meets. She has been through many health ailments.
• My middle daughter, Wateen, who is five years old, suffered a broken leg as a result of escaping during the aggression against the area surrounding us. Wateen suffers from osteomalacia and poor growth. I hope that this incident will not be repeated and that I will not see anything bad about it
• This is our house, full of our memories and moments of joy and happiness, which has now turned into ruins. His destruction
broke our hearts
Despite the darkness that surrounds us, a ray of hope appears in our hearts - a longing to seek refuge in the embrace of safety, and to find solace in a land untouched by the scourges of war. Egypt beckons to us as a beacon of hope, promising safe haven and the opportunity to rebuild our shattered lives. However, the path to freedom is fraught with obstacles, and we are unable to afford the journey that might lead us to a new beginning.
My family and I are looking forward to evacuating to Egypt, but as you know, a lot of money is needed to pay for the coordination costs in order to cross the border, and we still need money to get the total amount required so that we can travel.
With each passing day, our burdens grow heavier, and our pleas for help become more urgent. We long for the warmth of a safe haven, an opportunity to regain what we have lost and forge a path to a brighter future
My family and I are about to embark on this journey of hope, but we cannot do it alone. Our situation is dire, and we need your support to rebuild our lives and provide a future for our children. Your kindness and generosity can make a big difference. Your contributions will help us provide safe shelter, access to medical care, and the basic necessities of life and we humbly appeal to you, kind souls, to extend your helping hand. Your generosity may pave the way for us to escape this nightmare, and give us a chance to start over
Please, consider helping us during these critical times. Every donation, regardless of size, brings us one step closer to safety, stability and the opportunity to rebuild our lives
With gratitude from the bottom of our hearts, we thank you for every donation, every engagement, and every ounce of compassion you provide to our cause. Your support means more than words can express. Together, we can turn our story of loss into a journey of hope and resilience.
My campaign number is 320
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your concern
My campaign was vetted by ✅90-ghost🫂
#free rafah#go found me#go fund them#from the river to the sea palestine will be free#free gaza#free palestine#save rafah#save gotham#save palestine#save gaza#save rottmnt#gaza strip#gaza#artists on tumblr#i stand with gaza#deadpool and wolverine#go fund him#go fund me#go fund her#gravity falls#i stand with palestine#from the river to the sea israel will be free#news on palestine#news on gaza#news#important
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ExHusband!Simon x Reader
You Want a Divorce? (Two)
Note: I feel like this is so bad im sorry!!!!
CW: Angst, titty sucking, passionate asf sex, simon missed ur pussy and you very much and vise versa, breeding kink, PIV (no protection, pls use it irl), squirting, simon eats the FUCK out of ur pussy, multiple orgasms, praise, hint of degradation, possessive!simon, OVERSTIMULATION, slight daddy kink… sorry
Part One
It was a quiet ride, the subtle sweeps of cars fleeting by as Simon gripped the wheel, eyes trailing off to the side to look at you briefly. Your head was leaned against the window, your knees knocking together anxiously as your daughter babbled in the back, cooing about how Mummy and Daddy were now back together.
You tried to hide the shed of tears that filtered across your iris, every small childish mumble like a stab to the gut as you listened to the genuine happiness in her tone. You would turn around occasionally with a small smile as you reached out to tickle her foot, giggles filling the car.
Simon pulled in, the car bouncing slightly as it hit the gravel carpark, his hand swerving into a spot before he turned to the back. “You excited, baby?”
Ella’s face lit up as she fumbled to take off her seatbelt, “Get me, Daddy! Get me! I wanna see the lions!” It was refreshing knowing she still viewed Simon as her hero, no matter how distant he was in their lives. You knew that even though your ex-husband was rarely around, his time with them did everything it could to mend the time apart. Toby woke up at the commotion, the toddler having slept the whole way there despite his older sister’s constant bickering about what animals she had to see first.
Everything seemed to flash past you as you walked inside, the whir of kids and noise sending your brain into overdrive as your eyes flickered to Simon with Ella swinging around on his shoulders and Toby kicking his legs in the stroller. You looked away; breath shaky as you attempted to compose yourself. This was supposed to be a happy day, for all of you, yet seeing him with your children, something that was supposed to be normal, felt so distant and unknown. Gathering yourself, you plastered a fake smile, hands reaching out to pinch your son’s cheeks as you grabbed the stroller.
Your heart hammered in your chest for the remainder of the day, fingers tingling with anxiety that bled into your veins, consuming your lungs with what seemed like everything but oxygen. It was a series of squeals and commotions from your young ones, their elation evident through the bright glow of their face, soft red resting on the apples of their cheeks. As the day quieted down, Toby slumped in the stroller as you tucked him into the car seat, his new plush crocodile cradled into his arms, mouth wide open as subtle breaths snored out.
Ella was cradled into Simon’s shoulder, her shoes half hanging off as she clutched onto him, dead asleep. You settled into the ride home yet your anxiety only seemed to heighten. You were alone with Simon, with no kiddish voices to break the tension, brown orbs glaring into the side of your face.
“Should we talk about this morning?”
You scoffed. “You have some nerve asking to talk about this morning,” you screamed into a hush, “What you did was completely disrespectful. Not only did you break into my house and kick my date out, but you left our kids in the car! What the fuck were you thinking?”
He cleared his throat, almost like he wanted to hold back how he felt. You noticed the white in his knuckles as he gripped the wheel, right eye twitching as he stared at the squiggles of tar ahead. “I don’t want our kids growing up thinking it’s normal for parents to separate. They need their mum and dad together, y/n.”
The world silenced for a second, the screams of the wind rushing past you seemed to slow as your voice cracked, seeps of emotion pouring out as you choked on your breath, “Then you should have fought for your family, Simon. There is no us anymore, it’s just them. They’re all that connects us now.”
You felt like all the ivory had been sucked out of your eyes, endless pits of your pupil consuming you whole, blurring your vision with fog as you blinked, hot streams of liquid salt spilling onto your cheeks, brimming at the cracks of your lips as you sniffled. You could feel his hesitation as he looked at you.
His words regurgitated in his throat as he stammered, tangled limbs reaching out to grip yours as you pulled away.
“Just drop us home.”
Your eyes had dried now, soft stains of bare skin caving through your foundation as you smudged your fingers against it. Simon stuttered as he pulled up to the driveway, tyres screeching to a halt as you sat in silence.
The soft strum of fingers caught your attention as you turned around, the innocent face of Toby looking back at his parents, tongue blabbing out of his mouth. “Dadda! You have dinner?”
“No, sport. Daddy’s gotta go-“
“Yeah, baby. Daddy will have dinner with us.”
You blinked at your own words, Simon’s surprised expression meeting yours. The wrench in your heart would never subside, the entirety of the beating organ still belonging to your ex-husband, but being a mother was a sacrifice. And you would sacrifice yourself in every existence you become one if it meant your children didn’t have to battle the same internal wounds.
“They’re tucked in,” Simon said, voice soft as he noticed your withered body in the couch. Your hair was messy now, strands spitting out as you anxiously tucked them back in, smoothing them down with the dampness of your palms as you ran around all night, ushering to the demands of your children.
“Thank you.”
You felt ill, your tongue cascading down your throat as you palmed at your knees, desperate for him to leave yet desperate for him to stay. Simon stilled, keys jangling in his hand before he sat down next to you, his weight disrupting the couch as he shuffled around.
“I need you to know that I did want to fight for you, y/n. I have counted every single day since you handed me those papers, waiting by my phone every single night on deployment hoping for you to text me, call me, fuck - blow my phone up. I never wanted the temporary absence that we had apart become permanent. Everything I said,” he breathed, voice cracking slightly as he looked away, “Everything I said on October 6th, 7 years ago, I meant. You weren’t supposed to get away from me - I shouldn’t have - I shouldn’t have let you get away from me.”
It was strange. Simon was never one for feelings, the brutality of his job allowed for any harsh emotions to crack through his fingers as he pulled a trigger, any dampness of tears would sweat through his skin as he pummelled a blade into an enemies head.
But it was you. And you weren’t violent, or any enemy, you were his wife, the person he vowed his entirety too.
Your anxious cascade cracked as you whimpered out a sob, chest heaving as you buried your face, tight with tears, into the pillows of your hands. You felt warmth spread through you, the texture of Simon’s fingers burning through you like wildfire, every ember he felt scorching through your flesh as he pulled you in.
Arms tangled together, intwining like wool as he wrapped you into his chest nimbly. A zephyr ran through you, your wrists clutched in his hands as you straddled him, the weight of you feeling like the grandest treasure upon him.
It was nothing strange, nor sexual but Simon recognised that cry, the differing pitch as you shuffled your frame into his. Simon knew you like the back of his hand, every crevice, every crease, every scar. He knew your backstory, and the one you made up to impress people. He knew the hex of the colour of your eyes and the print of your thumb. No papers would take that away from him.
Soaked eyelashes clumped into one as you looked up at him, orbs resembling once of a doe, innocence seeping through every inch of a salt-stained tear. His eyes met yours, apertures of cocoa reflecting your weary frame as you gripped onto him.
“Let me come home, please.”
Simon’s voice was desperate, it was raw, any shed of arrogance erased through the lines, eyebrows knotted together as he rubbed at the small of your back.
Your nod was subtle, but he could practically hear it, calloused hands gripping at the plush of your cheek and seeping through the tip of your spine, thumb rubbing at your earlobe as he clutched onto you.
Hot, seething pricks ran through your limbs as your lips connected, saline lining your mouth as he lapped at the heat of your tongue, rough groans leaving his lips as he savoured the taste.
Any diffidence left your body as familiarity sunk back into you. Hands pawed at the globe of your ass, gripping the flesh as anguished limbs wrapped around Simon’s waist.
With an easy tug, he lifted you, your hands wrapping around his neck as he pulled you in closer, teeth kissing. You never questioned Simon’s strength, and you wouldn’t start now as you felt your back hit your mattress.
He tugged at his shirt, the black fabric pooling on the floor as you sucked in a breath. Your eyes traced every scar, lighter flesh engraved into the skin of his torso, a short trail of hair disappearing into his pants as you stared at his burly physique.
Simon gripped at your shirt, the material practically ripping before his hands were at your chest, grabbing at your flesh desperately as you tangled your fingers into your bra, sliding it off. His mouth was hot on your chest, the sound of moans and pants filling the air as he positioned himself between your legs, teeth grazing the hard nubs, sucking with fervour as you whined, your hand at the base of his head, cradling it.
“Missed these so fucking much,” he practically whined, groping your tits as he pinched your nipples, lips sucking deep marks of possession into the soft skin. Your pants were desperate, begging him for more as you pulled his hair, fingernails clawing at his scalp.
Your hands fumbled with your pants, hips raising as he slid them off, clumsy fingers chucking them across the room as you laughed, lips connecting once more in a giggly state as his thumb pushed against the wetness of your panties.
“Missed how fucking wet you got for me. Such a good fucking girl,” he groaned, fingers rubbing at your heat through the thin cloth eliciting a pained moan from you.
“Simon - I need more, been so long.”
He choked out a laugh as his fingers hooked into the fabric, lace dribbling down your leg before he mewled at the sight of you. His hands held your thighs apart, your soaking cunt on display as it throbbed, slick folds glistening in the poor lighting.
“Prettiest fucking pussy,” he choked out to himself, placing your legs over his shoulder as he knelt down. Your back arched as you felt his tongue lick a long stripe of your pussy, his body seething for a taste of you as his lips found your neglected clit.
He lapped at you mercilessly, your cries and moans moulding into one with the filthy squelches of his mouth against your heat. Long digits circled your entrance, teasing you, before they curled in.
Your eyes rolled, pools of ivory exposed as you let out a guttural moan, your thighs tightening around his ears as he smirked against your pussy. Cocky fingers rubbed at the right spot, favouring the clench of your tight hole as he pulled every noise he could get from you.
You were barely cohesive as he lapped at your slick, the throbbing of your clit edging him on as he soothed your g-spot with the pad of his fingers. The coil you had only ever felt with Simon began to build, the familiar sensation pooling in your stomach as you stuttered out a whimper.
“Si- too much - I’m gonna-“
“That’s it baby,” he cooed, pulling away from your pussy for a second to take in your expression as you came, your face contorted with pleasure as your legs jerked, pussy wrapping tighter around his abusing digits as he fucked you through it with them. You looked down at him, saliva and your slick coating his mouth and chin as he grinned.
You stammered out a groan as his mouth attached back on your pussy, slurping up your liquid gold as you attempted to push his head away in overstimulation.
“Oh my- fuck - Simon - too much,” you whimpered your words commanding him to continue as he guzzled around your clit, teeth grazing the sensitive bud as your legs shook uncontrollably.
It wasn’t long before the continuation from your previous orgasm rose again, heat swarming your lower belly as you screamed out, your hand slapping over your mouth as you felt Simon’s spare hand wrap around your thigh, squeezing tightly.
You pulled at his hair, tugging at the ashy roots before you were gushing around his fingers and tongue again, sloshing liquids soaking your sheets as he groaned at the taste, mouth lapping it up with vigour. You whined in humiliation, the overwhelming pleasure becoming too much as you heaved.
“Si - no more -“
“I’m sorry baby, too fucking good. Will never get enough of your pussy.”
His words were filthy yet only held the truth, his continuous slurps against your heat causing your body to jerk as you relentlessly bucked your hips. Simon’s abuse continued on your pussy, your pussy gushing and coming another 6 times before he was satisfied, the sheet under you drenched in both your slick and squirt as Simon milked your overwhelmed cunt, claiming he was “making up for the months lost”.
You were dry heaving, throat dry as he captured your lips in a kiss, the taste of you infiltrating into your glands as you groaned, his hands reaching to tug at your breasts as he took in your fucked out state, legs jiggling and twitching as your pussy convulsed at the number of orgasms he dragged out of you.
You felt like you had been lying here for hours, yet you weren’t satisfied. You would only be content when he was inside you, stretching you to the brim as he pumped a load inside your worn-out hole.
“Simon - please - I can’t… I need you now,” you were practically crying, tears shedding at the brim of your eyes, bottom lip jutting out as he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, slicking back the sweat on your forehead.
“I know baby, done so well for Daddy, hm? Even after all that you still need to be plugged full of me don’t you?”
You nodded as a harsh slap landed against your clit, your body jolting as you squeaked. “Yes, please,” you cried, “Please Daddy.”
His hands were like clockwork, tearing at his jeans as they released his cock, a satisfied groan leaving his body as he gripped at the tent in his pants, a sticky wet patch soaking the material before his length throbbed out, angry tip slapping his stomach as a trail of precum glistened against the base of his cock.
His dick was flushed red, begging for release as he ran it through the squelch of your sopping folds, rubbing against your manipulated clit as you moaned.
Your hands gripped his head as he leant down to kiss you, his arm holding him up while the other positioned himself at your entrance. He stilled for a moment, cock almost pressing in before he whispered, “I love you.”
“I love you.”
The words were soft yet meaningful, your eyes interlocked as he began to push inside, your mouth gasping open as you clutched onto his shoulders. It was hard when you were together all those years to get accustomed to his frightening length, and now it had been a year and the stretch was searing through you.
“I know, sweet girl, you can take it. Such a tight cunt for me, so fucking good.”
Fingernails clawed at his back as he pushed in, your whines muffled by the palm of his hand as he held himself up his elbows. “Holy fuck,” he spluttered as he bottomed out, his lips connecting to your neck as he sucked, resting inside you for a second as you whimpered.
The burn slowly faded as you rutted against him impatiently, the tip of his cock resting against your sweet spot as you gasped.
“So fucking impatient, always been such a slut for me. Haven’t you?”
You nodded, whining as he began to move, moving his hips slowly as he rubbed inside you perfectly, your mouth wide open as your head lolled back. A series of expletives tipped from your tongue as you choked on the air, Simon’s pace picking up at your dramatic noises.
“Fuck - taking me so well-“ he grunted, hands groping at your tits as he watched your pussy absorb his length. It was an obscene sight and he loved it. Every fibre of your being belonged to him and it was something he constantly craved.
“All fucking mine - shit - my fucking pussy,” he grunted, thumb rubbing at your clit as you mewled, twitching below him as he spat, “my fucking wife - got the tightest fucking cunt just for me.”
You clenched around him at his words, knowing it was true as his balls slapped against your ass, skin spanking against each other as the sound filled the room, ecstasy roaring through both of your veins as you made love.
The squelch of your pussy was taboo as he lapped in the missed sound. His eyes took in the way your body reacted to every movement, no matter how small. He took in the way your breasts bounced with each thrust, lower stomach bulging as he pounded into you.
“Fuck - Simon - oh my God,” your words were a mere blabber, barely making sense as you clutched onto him, pulling him down to meet your lips.
“I can’t pull out, baby - fuck - gotta cum in this pretty pussy. Give you another kid, hm? - shit -“
His hips didn’t falter as his pace fastened, chasing his own high as he rubbed at your clit, your breaths growing shallow as your orgasm began to build. “Gonna fill you with my cum until it takes. Need your belly round again and your tits full - such a good fucking mum, makes me so fucking proud.”
His words were the final straw as the build up in your stomach popped, your whole body convulsing as your pussy clenched around him, a loud groan leaving his throat before you felt the hot splashes of his cum pumping inside you.
“That’s it baby, milk my cock. Such a good fucking girl for Daddy, gonna break you apart everyday on my cock until you never forget who you belong too.”
He didn’t pull out immediately, his cum plugged inside you as some seeped out, rolling down the crevice of your ass below you. Your eyes shut, gentle pants leaving your lips as you felt Simon’s absence before a soft cloth was wiped gently across your sex and masculine arms were gripping onto you, carrying you into the guest room before engulfing you into a thrill of heat, Simon’s chest against your back as you fell asleep.
TAGLIST: @kiiwiipie @nijiru
Disclaimer: im sorry if this is disappointing im super tired :(((
#evilgwrl#call of duty x reader#141 x reader#ghost smut#simon riley#ghost#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost smut#simon riley x female reader#simon riley fluff#simon riley angst#simon riley x you#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon ghost#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#simon ghost x you
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"Dancing and kissing? In public?" Benjamin whispered back, a brief look of surprise alighting his face. It wasn't that he minded, per se, but he'd certainly never seen any public displays of affection before -- not even during his schooling in New Haven.
Emma quipped about her looks (which he couldn't disagree with) and then swooped back her hair. "And it's 'Your Royal Highness Princess Emma, if you must know. You can keep the 'Your Highness'."
Benjamin sneered. "Is that your polite way of telling me to stuff it? I think this is the rudest you've ever been." Lightly touching her wrist, if only to show his jest, he looked to Mary Margaret when the topic shifted to Bradford.
David, too, seemed concerned with the announcement of the colonel, and Benjamin was quick to intervene, "She has it handled, sir. Colonel Bradford is...an acquired taste. But fortunately, your Emma gave him a taste of his own to stew over. I don't think he's ever eaten a royal's knuckles before, but I can promise you this: the entire camp applauded the display, because he had it coming."
When Mary Margaret brought up an elopement, Benjamin nearly choked on his own breath. He cleared his throat, forcing a chuckle when Emma giggled, praying that the faint pink in his cheeks could still be blamed on the brisk air. "Your daughter may be impulsive," he said, "but I can't say she'd ever do that. Unless she was only in it for the wedding cake, of course."
David appeared amused. "Careful, I wouldn't want my wife to talk your general into relieving you of your duty so she can take you home with us."
"Is that truly an option?" Benjamin asked, a hint of his own amusement warming his eyes. "I wouldn't be opposed...after the war, of course. I made a vow to my country, and thus, I intend to see it through."
Emma nudged him and he glanced down at her, sharing an almost secret smile as he resisted the urge to catch her hand.
"Mrs. Washington is in camp," Benjamin said, realizing that Mary Margaret had spoken of Martha, "so I'm sure she'll be delighted to see you. The womenfolk in this camp are deserving of a nice little respite."
"But this is not over," David playfully warned. "You will come to dinner with us soon, we have books to discuss."
Benjamin chuckled. "But of course, sir. It would be my highest honor. And what's more, it'll give me an even better excuse to read in the evenings." Bowing at the waist, he said, "It's been my pleasure making your acquaintance. You've both been as much of a delight as I could've possibly imagined...and, truth be told, I'd lost faith that monarchs could still be good people." He smiled. "Thank you for proving me wrong."
though theirs had far less endearment.
"You say that now, wait until they start dancing around or kissing," she muttered back, hiding her mouth with her hand and leaning closer, "There's no way they can adapt that well to this place's rules."
Ben's words were not ones of protest after Emma's - and her mother's - encouragement, and she took it as a good sign; she felt luckier than ever, to have parents who were witnessing this and not finding odd in the slightest to have such an open conversation about emotions. Of course they had fought for it, they had earned that freedom, but it was still rare even in Mysthaven, and Emma was proud that at least she could give Ben a space where he could express his feelings and only find support. This was exactly what she had wanted. And God, how she wished she could take him home with her, when the time came.
and my sarcasm would've been accurate?
"What is there to be sarcastic about? I should be called Your Highness for my looks alone," she retorted, flipping her lock back. "And it's 'Your Royal Highness Princess Emma, if you must know. You can keep the 'Your Highness'." Her mother smiled, shaking her head, "Emma must adhere to the use of titles when protocol requires it, but she could also demand it as a right at all times... and chooses to do so only with people she dislikes. Had you been addressing her as Your Highness, we would have known she sees you as an issue." "Oh, he knows, I've got this man here, Bradford, who must call me by title." "Why?" David's eyes had narrowed, "What did he do? I could meet him." "No, no, it's alright, daddy," Emma assured him quickly, "You are already meeting everyone who matters now." "Everyone? Pity, I was hoping you'd reveal an elopement after this, to complete the tour," Mary Margaret remarked lightly, and David wrinkled his nose and said: "No, we were not hoping for that."
Pity, Mary Margaret thought again while Emma snickered at their comments, because the young Tallmadge would not want to wait before giving her grandchildren, clearly, and was in the jokes about Emma but always making sure to keep them as light as possible, least she got offended. A great combination, in her opinion. "Careful, I wouldn't want my wife to talk your general into relieving you of your duty so she can take you home with us." "We need new teachers who love their job," she pointed out with a shrug. "And Emma's friends are always welcome." "Yes, they are," Emma agreed, nudging Ben with her elbow - again, Mary Margaret noticed that normally Emma would lean in and stay there, but she was trying to keep distance while clearly already close enough to touch. Interesting. "Speaking of the general, we should see George soon. I certainly hope we'll be able to see dear Martha..." "But this is not over," Ben warned David with a warm smile, "You will come to dinner with us soon, we have books to discuss."
#smiletimeisrunningout#a calming calamity#ben x emma#//LOL true david seems like the type of dad to be like#okay you can be happy together...but not TOO happy *knife emoji*#YOU HURT MY DAUGHTER AND I HURT YOU#ben has a bad habit of wanting to be adopted by kind of stand-offish men#so when he calls him dad later on at least he won't have a father figure who hates him#hopefully xD#ben and david can spend afternoons fencing#and then ben and MM can teach kids and make crafts with the kiddos#and then in the evening everyone has a big book club#and emma will eventually be roped into joining in lol
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