#waves frantically HELLO STILL AROUND
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acaradical · 16 days ago
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That Thing came from the Unknown.
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loves0phelia · 16 days ago
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hello! hope you’re okay after the ending, honestly I don’t think any of us are.
I wanted to request a rafe x pogue reader where it’s that boat storm scene and instead of Sarah falling it’s reader and she’s just drowning and Rafe jumps in after her. He doesn’t know why he did it but he just has a soft spot for her and it’s just really angsty but also cute.
thanks! I love your account btw!
In The Sea
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Summery: the anon
Words: 2.5k
Warnings: grammar mistakes
A\N: thank you to everyone who has been requesting it makes me very happy xxx
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You stand at the edge of the deck, clutching the railing as the boat rocks, waves rolling against the hull. The salty breeze whips your hair around your face, and the peaceful ocean sounds made you think about the current situation.
You didn't expect Rafe to save you and your friends from being arrested, much less expect him to find a boat big and resistant enough to drive you all to Morocco Africa to find the blue crown. It was truly a surprise considering you and Rafe's history.
“So what? Are we just on our way to Africa now?” Kiara asked the group as if she couldn't believe that Rafe Cameron was willingly helping them.
“Quick little weekend trip?” She added to her previous sentence.
“What about Rafe? We know what he did to the cross and now we want to go after the crown with him?” You and the rest of the pogue's lips go into a thin line at the memory.
“Sarah, you're his family, how do deal with him” John B said, finding no other options.
“I don't- I don't know, I think maybe y/n might have a chance of convincing him to behave but..” she shrugged and you felt the stares of your friends burn holes through you. Your past relationship with him was a secret to nobody.
“We- we just have to talk to him, or at least try” You proposed earning a frown from JJ.
“Talk to Rafe? When has he ever just communicated with us?” 
“Talking to him is the only option we have, but you're definitely not talking with him,” John B said and as expected everyone nodded and hummed, agreeing. JJ was in no place to talk with Rafe.
“Why not? What did I do?” He asked, getting almost frustrated.
“We all know you and him are far from being civil, the last thing we need is you triggering him and causing trouble” His girlfriend, Kiara, tried to explain the easiest way but he still got defensive. After a couple of bickering from JJ and John b You finally decide to go speak with him, who was driving the boat not too far away from the deck.
“Hey,” You knock on the metal and rusted door before entering and walking up to him. His eyes catch yours and there's a tension between the two of you. But Rafe only tilts his head to acknowledge you.
You swallow, feeling the weight of his stare. "We just want to talk," you say, steadying your voice as the rest of your friends beside JJ follow behind you.
“All right let's talk” Rafe chuckles, and it’s low, almost a whisper. 
Your mind goes almost blank as you take him in, you haven't been this close since you were forced in the same room by Sighs men last year. You had almost forgotten how much you missed him.
“You guys be cool I'll be cool” His voice snapped you out of your daydream, realizing you had missed a bit of the conversation.
“So now you want peace?” Pope leaned back and scoffed, not believing a word that came out of his mouth.
“I just saved all your asses, how about a thank you?” He glanced at all of you one by one, but he only earned silence,
“Listen I don't want any part of your little fairytale treasure hunt bullshit, I'm just looking for Groff” He’s breathing heavily, holding himself back from adding more snark,
“Hey, Rafe!” Before anyone can react, JJ’s fist flies through the air, cracking against Rafe’s jaw with a force that echoes.
Rafe’s head snaps back, his expression stunned for a split second before he crumples, hitting the hard metal floor. For a moment, everyone is frantic, staring at the lifeless form sprawled across the floor, his eyes closed, completely knocked out.
“holy shit”
“Jesus JJ what's your problem”
“Whoo that felt good” Tired of JJ's crazy actions the girls walk away shaking their heads in disbelief until you are the only one staying behind.
JJ stands over him, breathing heavily, the adrenaline still pulsing through him as he looks down at Rafe. His fist is red, already bruising, but he doesn’t seem to care.
“What is wrong with you?” You look at him, feeling a rush of shock mixed with panic. You fall to your knees next to Rafe and quickly look over his injuries, softly rubbing your thumb on his jaw.   “If he didn't do it I was going to do it” Pope added only worsening the situation. You shook your head and furrowed your eyebrows at his sentence.
After the pogues agreed it was probably not a good idea to let Rafe free in case he woke up and decided to shoot you all with his “peacemaker” you tied him up in a small cabin. His head hung low, his wrists were bound to a stainless steel pole and his legs were uncomfortably folded beneath him. Your heart clenched at the sight of him but still decided to leave him there until he woke up.
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You open the door to the cabin slowly with a tray of warmed-up canned spaghetti in hand, it wasn't the best but it was all the boat had.
“I brought you food..” You whispered before bending down to place the tray in front of him.
“great” he sighed.
“I found aspirin in the medicine cabinet, I figured you'd have a headache, maybe even a concussion” 
“Right… are you gonna throw it in my mouth like a seal or something” He scoffed again clearly angered,
“They don't trust you Rafe… but if you do the right thing maybe they will open up a little bit”
“I am doing the right thing! I helped you” He tried pulling against the restraints but failed. 
“I know okay? I know but unfortunately, I don't have a choice but to let you in here until we get there, I'm sorry” you whispered and pushed the tray closer to him. “Please eat,” You said and left closing the large door behind you.
For a moment you stayed behind the door listening closely. “Y/N come back!” he grunts and kicks his feet on the ground. “Fucking untie me please!!” he screamed and you jumped when you heard the tray you had just put down on the floor fly into the wall.
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Pope leaning over the side, is the first to spot the flicker of movement beneath the water. "Guys! I see one!" exclaims, his voice a mixture of excitement and focus. He scrambles for the fishing rod, almost knocking over the tackle box in his rush.
John B is right beside him, laughing. “We've got our dinner!" he laughs.
“Guys, this one’s huge!” Kie giggles with the boys knowing we were all set for dinner time tonight.
You all spent the rest of the day cooking the fish you caught and preparing side dishes with some good music in the background.
Until it was time for Rafa's second meal.
You open the door carefully and his eyes catch yours, this time you don't speak, simply set the tray of seasoned salmon down in front of him.
Has you were about to close the door you hear him.
“Wait, y/n. Can you please- can you give me the fork” his tone is much softer than before so you can't deny him. 
You get down and pick up the utensil his bound hands couldn’t reach.
“Thank you” He murmured, and you barely heard him as you closed the door behind you once again.
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The sky darkens ominously as thunder rumbles in the distance, low and threatening. Waves crash harder against the hull of the boat, tossing it with a force that leaves you gripping onto anything within reach. The storm monitor flashes red to show the storm coming ahead of you.
“That's not good,” John B says.
“We're gonna have to try to blast through it,” Pope says, not finding any better options.
“Why can't we go south?” Kie asks genuinely.
“The current is gonna be against us we don't have a choice” John B agreed even after trying to find safer options, the boat's roar has Pope push the lever controlling the engine to the max. 
The waves make the boat shift side to side making it difficult to stay up and steady.
Another massive wave crashes over the side, drenching them all, and you lose your footing, sliding across the deck until Kie grabs your arm, pulling you back.
“Hold on to something” Kie yells at you pope and Sarah and you all grip onto the nearest thing.
“Hey!” a distant voice echoes through the walls.
“Cut me loose! Y/N! Somebody!” Rafe screamed and banged his fists on the wall.
“Get me out of here!” Everyone listens but doesn't move a finger.
“We have to let him out” You scramble to your feet but jerk back when Cleo grabs your wrist.
“No!” she says trying to stop you but you pulled back.
“He's gonna drown” You pull open rapidly the drawers trying to find something sharp, able to cut the thick ropes wrapped around Rafe's hands.
The storm is relentless, its fury tossing you around like a rag doll as you try to reach him.  
You cling to the railing, struggling to stay upright as the boat lurches violently, nearly sending you sprawling across the floor. Your legs buckle under you. You come crashing through the door and walk onto the water-soaked floor knife in hand.
“Cut me loose” he begs.
Crouching in front of him you began frantically cutting the rope. Your muscles burn with how much pressure you're using.
“Shit,” You say when a sudden jerk of the boat makes your face come inches apart from his, lips almost touching. You don't have time to think as you regain your balance and continue cutting the bounds.
“There! Come on” you yelled and quickly grasped his hands to pull him up from the floor.
You both run to shelter but the boat jerks side to side even more violently,
“Something is wrong I have to go see!” 
“No!” Rafe tried holding on to you but you were already rushing away onto the deck where waves came crashing, a massive wave rose out of the dark, towering over the boat like a shadow.
You barely had time to think before it crashed down, an icy, unforgiving wall of water that slammed into you with the force of a sledgehammer. The impact was too strong and you were thrown backward, landing hard on the deck. Pain explodes through your shoulder, the wind knocks from your lungs. Dazed and gasping, you try to get up, but the boat tips again, and before you can stand, another wave strikes.
This one is worse, merciless, catching you just as you struggle to rise. Your fingers graze the edge of the railing, but the slick metal slips through your grasp. In an instant, the world spins as you are thrown away from the boat, the cold, raging ocean swallowing you whole.
The water is a shock, freezing and chaotic, disorienting you as you plunge beneath the surface. You thrash, fighting to reach the surface, lungs burning, but the waves toss you back and forth, each effort to rise met with another rush of icy water.
Back on the boat, Rafe catches a glimpse of you disappearing over the side, and his heart stops. “Y/N!” he screams, panic cutting through the storm. Without a second thought, he scrambles to the railing, nearly slipping himself as he peers out into the dark, searching for any sign of you.
“Where is she!” Sarah came rushing to her brother
“She fell overboard” he yells already reaching for a rope with the floating boyee. He’s soaked, exhausted, and barely steady, but there’s no hesitation as he jumps in after you.
“Rafe no!” She screams after her brother.
A wave slams into Rafe. “Y/N!!” he yells in the water as he sees you trying to stay above the water far away.
With the last of your strength, You swim faster and harder towards Rafe and reach out when you're near, fingers brushing his arm, grasping it tight. Rafe holds you with everything he has.
“I got you” But you don't hear him in the storm.
You both hold on to each other your arms around his neck and his around your waist as the boat floats away and the night turns into a void.
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“Hey, open your eyes, look at me” You feel gentle hands grasping on your face as you finally sit up coughing out the water that filled your lungs.
“That's it” The hands rub your back in a comforting way.
The sand is hot beneath you, warming up your skin, and with exhaustion, you fall onto Rafe's chest.
“Hey you okay?” panicked, he grabs onto your shoulder and pushes you a little bit to take a good look at your face.
“You jumped after me,” you whispered.
“Of course I did”  You look up at him, heart pounding, feeling a rush of gratitude, fear, and something deeper—something that’s been smouldering beneath the surface, unspoken, for far too long. Your eyes shine with tears, not sad and not happy either but grateful. 
His hand reaches up, brushing a strand of wet hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your skin. His touch is warm, and grounding, and you feel your heart racing even faster under his gaze, intense and unreadable, like he’s seeing you for the first time.
Without another thought, you lean in, closing the space between the two of you as you press your lips to his, a spark igniting into a wildfire the moment you connect. Rafe’s surprise melts away instantly, and he kisses back, fierce and unrestrained, his hands finding your waist.
The kiss is charged, fueled by adrenaline, and a longing that neither of you can deny any longer. Your hands find his shoulders, clinging to him, grounding you in his warmth, his strength, the feel of his heartbeat thundering beneath your touch. 
Rafe’s fingers trail up your back, sending shivers along your spine, and his lips move against yours with an urgency that speaks of everything left unspoken.
When you finally pull apart, breathless, Rafe’s forehead rests against yours, his eyes searching yours as he lets out a shaky laugh, almost in disbelief.
“You saved my life” you smile, brushing a thumb over his cheek, still feeling the warmth of his kiss lingering on your lips. “I love you, I've always loved you” you whisper, and before you know it, you're kissing again, the ocean waves crashing nearby, the world forgotten as you lose yourselves in each other.
“I never stopped loving you,” he whispered.
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Send request xxx
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reidmarieprentiss · 3 months ago
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Lost & Found
Summary: You suffer memory loss after an accident, only remembering your sister, Emily, and not your boyfriend, Spencer.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort
Warnings/Includes: car accident, depressive thoughts, fighting, crying, memory loss, struggling with memory loss, showering together, suggestive content (16+), use of Y/N
Word count: 19.6k
a/n: this reminds me of the vow lol my bad but i already wrote it sooo
main masterlist
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The sun had just begun to rise over Washington, D.C., casting long shadows across the bustling streets. You were driving to work, your thoughts on the day ahead, when the unthinkable happened. Out of nowhere, a semi-truck barreled down the road, its brakes screaming in protest, unable to halt its deadly path. There was no time to react. The world slowed as the massive vehicle collided with the driver’s side of your car, the sound of metal crunching filling the air like a thunderclap.
Spencer Reid sat in a sterile conference room, surrounded by maps and case files in a small town in Missouri. He was miles away from home, yet his mind kept drifting back to you. It had been a little over two years since you and Spencer began dating, and in that time, he had come to rely on your comforting presence. Even though he was away, the two of you made it a point to call each other whenever possible, exchanging stories about your days and sharing a few jokes. Today, he hadn’t heard from you yet, and a nagging feeling tugged at the back of his mind.  
The shrill ring of his phone jolted Spencer out of his thoughts. Hotch was in mid-sentence when Spencer abruptly stood up, excusing himself from the meeting as he glanced down at the caller ID and recognized your best friend’s name. 
“Hey, Spencer! Sorry for calling so early, I just wanted to ask if you knew what Y/N would like for her birthday dinner!” they chirped, their voice a bit muffled from what sounded like some activity in the background. “She’s so picky, you know! Maybe we could make a surprise for her?”
“I...I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to her yet today,” Spencer admitted, his voice nearly shaking. “But she loves Italian food, maybe pasta?” 
“Oh, of course! I’ll start with that, then. Thanks, Spencer!” they replied before hanging up, oblivious to the gravity of the situation.
The call left Spencer feeling hollow, a growing sense of dread gnawing at him. He sank back into his chair, his mind reeling. Moments later, his phone rang again, and he picked it up without even glancing at the screen. This time, the voice on the other end was urgent and frantic, and Spencer’s heart sank as he listened. 
"Hello?" he said, trying to keep his voice steady, though the room was still buzzing around him.
“Spencer Reid?” a calm, authoritative voice inquired on the other end.
“Yes, this is he,” Spencer replied, straightening up slightly as he recognized the tone of someone delivering important information.
“This is St. Agnes Hospital in Washington, D.C.," the voice continued. "I’m calling about Y/N L/N.”
Spencer's heart skipped a beat. The mention of your name brought everything else to a halt, and he felt a wave of apprehension wash over him.
“She has been in an accident,” the voice said, and Spencer could hear the weight behind those words. “You are listed as her emergency contact, how soon can you get here?”
He froze, unable to process the words as they echoed in his mind. “An accident?” he finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper. "What happened?"
“There was a collision with a semi-truck,” the hospital staffer explained, their voice professional yet tinged with compassion. “Y/N was seriously injured. She’s currently in surgery, but it’s critical.”
Spencer's mind raced, each word like a punch to his gut. “Is she—” he started, his voice breaking. “Is she going to be okay?”
“We’re doing everything we can, Dr. Reid,” the worker reassured him gently. “But you should get here as soon as you can.”
He nodded, though the person on the other end couldn't see him, trying to gather his thoughts through the haze of shock. The room around him felt surreal, the voices of his colleagues fading into the background.
“Thank you,” Spencer managed to say, his voice shaky with barely restrained panic. “I’m on my way from Missouri, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
As he ended the call, Spencer abruptly returned, shoes pounding against the floor. His teammates noticed the sudden change in his demeanor, their conversations pausing as they turned to him with concern.
“Spencer?” Emily asked, noticing the ashen look on his face. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Y/N,” Spencer said, his voice tight with urgency. “There’s been an accident. I need to get home.”
Without waiting for a response, he grabbed his things, already planning his route to the nearest airport in his head. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the urgency to be by your side, to hold your hand, to be there when you needed him most.
“We’ll cover things here,” Hotch assured him, stepping forward. “Go.”
“Thanks,” Spencer replied, his voice holding gratitude and desperation. He turned to leave, his thoughts solely focused on getting back to you, hoping with every fiber of his being that he wouldn’t be too late.
Spencer couldn’t remember the flight home. The moments blurred together as his mind replayed the words over and over: life support, coma, severe accident. They echoed in his head, refusing to let him think of anything else. His team had rallied around him, offering words of support and handling the details to get him back as quickly as possible. 
As the plane touched down in Washington, Spencer felt the full weight of the situation crashing down on him. His legs trembled as he stood, a numbness spreading through his body as he made his way through the terminal. 
The hospital was a short drive away, and yet it felt like an eternity. He barely registered the buildings and streets flashing by as he sat in the back seat of a cab, his heart pounding with each passing moment. 
Finally, he arrived at the hospital, a large, imposing building that now seemed more like a fortress. Spencer rushed through the doors, barely acknowledging the bustling activity around him as he focused solely on reaching you. He navigated the maze of hallways with a determination that surprised even him, eventually finding his way to the ICU. 
Your room was sterile and filled with the rhythmic beeping of machines, each sound a stark reminder of your fragile condition. Spencer stopped short at the sight of you lying in the hospital bed, tubes and wires snaking across your body. His heart wrenched at the sight, a profound ache settling in his chest as he slowly approached. 
“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. 
He took a shaky breath, feeling the enormity of the situation press down on him. He felt helpless, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest with the assistance of the ventilator, knowing there was nothing he could do to change what had happened. 
Spencer reached out, his hand trembling as he gently took yours. The warmth of your skin was a small comfort, a reminder that you were still there, still fighting. 
“I’m here,” he said softly, his voice breaking as he spoke. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. Please, Y/N... please come back to me.” 
The room was silent except for the steady hum of the machines, and Spencer felt a tear slide down his cheek. He brushed it away, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. 
The hours that followed were a blur. Spencer sat by your side, his hand never leaving yours as he kept a silent vigil. The nurses and doctors came and went, their words and actions a distant murmur as Spencer focused solely on you. He remembered snippets of conversations, assurances that you were receiving the best care possible, and updates on your condition that offered little comfort. 
In those moments, Spencer clung to hope. He recalled all the times you had smiled at him, the way your eyes lit up when you were excited or passionate about something. He remembered the quiet moments you shared, the laughter and love that had blossomed between you over the past years. 
Three Days Later
Spencer hadn’t left the hospital since he arrived. The team had been by his side, offering support and keeping him company, but he barely registered their presence. All that mattered was you, and the hope that you would wake up and return to him. 
On the third day, the doctor came in with a more hopeful expression than before. He checked the monitors, made some notes, and then turned to Spencer with a small smile. 
“There’s been some improvement,” he said gently. “It’s a good sign. We’re going to try reducing the sedation and see how she responds.”
Spencer felt a flicker of hope at the words, his heart clenching with a mix of anticipation and fear. He nodded, unable to trust his voice as he watched the doctor adjust the IV line. They assured him they would keep him informed as soon as your surgery was complete and directed him to the waiting area, where he could collect himself while waiting for more information.
Spencer made his way to the waiting room, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. Memories of you together flooded his mind: the quiet evenings spent curled up on the couch, the laughter shared over inside jokes, and the whispered promises of a future together. He sat down, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him, wondering what the next few hours would bring.
The hours stretched on interminably, each tick of the clock echoing loudly in Spencer's ears as he waited in the sterile waiting room. He couldn't bring himself to focus on anything other than the thought of you, lying in surgery, fighting for your life. The antiseptic smell of the hospital, the murmur of other patients and visitors, all faded into the background as he replayed every memory he had of you in his mind, trying to cling to the hope that you would pull through.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a doctor approached Spencer with a solemn expression. "Dr. Reid?" the doctor asked, and Spencer quickly stood, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Yes, that's me," Spencer replied, his voice fullof hope and anxiety.
"The surgery was successful," the doctor said, offering a small, reassuring smile. "We were able to stabilize her, and she's currently in the ICU under observation."
Spencer felt a rush of relief wash over him, though the gravity of the situation was still heavy on his shoulders. "Thank you," he said sincerely, his voice trembling with emotion. "Thank you so much."
The doctor nodded, understanding the depth of Spencer's gratitude. "She's not out of the woods yet," the doctor continued, "but she's made it through the worst part. However, I need to prepare you for the possibility that there may be complications. We won't know the full extent until she regains consciousness."
Spencer nodded, taking in the doctor's words with a mix of relief and apprehension. He felt his breath catch in his throat, knowing that there was still a long road ahead, but grateful for the chance to be by your side as you began to recover.
You pulled through, but it wasn't without its challenges. When you finally awoke, the room was filled with the soft beeping of monitors and the faint hum of medical equipment. Everything felt disorienting as you blinked against the harsh fluorescent lights, trying to make sense of where you were and what had happened.
Spencer was at your side, his eyes filled with relief and worry as he watched you stir. He reached out to take your hand, squeezing it gently in reassurance. "Y/N," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "You're awake."
You turned your head slightly, trying to focus on the man before you. He looked somewhat familiar, yet your mind struggled to place him. The last thing you remembered was being 18, living with your sister Emily, and yet here you were, in a hospital bed, with a stranger by your side.
"Who are you?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of uncertainty.
Spencer felt his heart drop at your words, a painful realization settling in. He had hoped that when you woke up, everything would be back to normal, that you would go back to the life you had built together. But the look of confusion and fear in your eyes told him everything he needed to know.
"I'm Spencer," he said gently, trying to keep his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "I'm your boyfriend. We've been together for over two years. You live with me."
You shook your head slowly, trying to wrap your mind around his words. It felt like a dream, a reality you couldn't quite grasp. "No," you said, your voice breaking with frustration and fear. "I live with my sister, Emily. I don't know you."
Spencer felt a wave of sadness wash over him, but he forced himself to stay strong for you. He knew this was a possibility, that the trauma of the accident could have affected your memory, but hearing it from you was a different reality altogether. He took a deep breath, his heart aching with every word he prepared to say.
“Um, no. I—I don’t know how to tell you this, but, uh…” Spencer tried to speak through the tears coming on, his voice trembling. “You are 25 years old, Emily is 38,  and you work as a liaison for the Sex Crimes Unit in the FBI. Emily and I work together in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We met through Emily, and now you live with me. You were in a severe car accident three days ago, and you may be suffering from amnesia.”
His words hung in the air like a cloud, heavy and dense, as you struggled to process what he was telling you. The hospital room felt colder, the sterile smell more pronounced, as your mind tried to catch up with the information being presented to you. Everything he said felt distant and unfamiliar, like a story someone else was telling, not your own life.
“Amnesia?” you repeated, the word foreign on your tongue. You could feel panic beginning to rise in your chest, the fear of the unknown pressing down on you. “How is this possible? I—I don’t remember any of this.”
Spencer’s heart broke at the fear in your eyes, and he longed to reach out and comfort you. But he knew that, to you, he was a stranger, someone who claimed to know you but didn’t feel real. He had to tread carefully, to give you space to process the situation at your own pace.
“It’s okay,” Spencer said softly, his eyes filled with compassion. “I know this is a lot to take in. You’ve been through so much, and I’m here for you. We can take this one step at a time. Whatever you need, I’m here to help.”
You looked at him, studying his face for any sign of deception or recognition, but all you saw was sincerity. It was both comforting and unsettling. Here was a man who seemed to care deeply for you, yet you couldn’t find a single memory to support his claims. It was like standing at the edge of a vast, unknown ocean, unsure whether to step forward or retreat.
“I just... I don’t understand how I got here,” you said, your voice small and uncertain, the edges of panic sharpening your words. Your eyes filled with tears as you grappled with the enormity of your situation. “Where’s Emily? I want to see Emily,” you added, the tears now spilling over, and you could feel your chest tighten with fear and helplessness. 
Spencer felt a painful twist in his heart as he watched you cry, the sight of your distress cutting through him like a knife. He knew how much you relied on Emily before, but he had been your rock these past years. To not be able to comfort you in your time of need tore him apart. Despite the situation, he felt a glimmer of relief that you still remembered your sister, a familiar anchor in a sea of unfamiliar faces and places.
“She’s at home sleeping. I’ll give her a call,” Spencer assured you, reaching for his phone with a steady hand, though inside he felt anything but calm. He wanted to be the one to comfort you, to hold you and tell you that everything would be okay, but he understood that right now, Emily was the person you needed most. 
“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. You wiped at your tears, feeling both grateful and overwhelmed by the kindness of this man who seemed so determined to help you, even though you couldn’t remember him.
Spencer stepped out into the hallway to make the call, wanting to give you a moment of privacy. The hospital corridor was quiet, save for the distant murmur of medical staff and the occasional beep of machinery. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before dialing Emily’s number. 
“Spencer?” Emily’s voice was groggy but instantly alert as she answered the call, concern evident in her tone. “Is everything okay? How’s Y/N?”
Spencer swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. “Emily, she’s awake,” he said, his voice tight with emotion. “But she doesn’t remember anything from the past seven years. She thinks she’s still living with you.”
“Oh my God,” Emily breathed, the shock clear in her voice. “Is she okay? What did the doctors say?”
“They think it’s retrograde amnesia caused by the trauma of the accident,” Spencer explained, running a hand through his hair as he spoke. “She’s asking for you, Emily. She’s really scared.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Emily promised, already moving to get dressed. “Tell her I’m on my way, okay? And Spencer... thank you for being there with her. I know this must be incredibly hard for you.”
Spencer nodded, even though Emily couldn’t see him. “I’ll tell her. Drive safely.”
After ending the call, Spencer returned to your room, his heart heavy with the knowledge of how disorienting this must be for you. He found you sitting up slightly, your eyes still red from crying but showing a flicker of hope at the mention of your sister.
“Emily’s on her way,” Spencer said gently, offering you a small, reassuring smile. “She should be here soon.”
You nodded, the knowledge that Emily was coming bringing you a semblance of comfort. But still, questions swirled in your mind, the uncertainty of your situation looming large.
"Thank you, um, what was your name again?" you asked softly, your voice hesitant and tinged with the confusion that clouded your mind. 
Spencer’s heart ached at the question, a painful reminder of the gap that now existed between you. But he managed a gentle smile, determined to be patient and understanding. 
“Spencer,” he said quietly, meeting your gaze with a steady warmth. “My name is Spencer.”
You nodded slowly, trying to commit his name to memory, even though it felt like grasping at straws. There was something comforting about the way he looked at you, a sense of safety that you couldn’t quite explain.
“Thank you, Spencer,” you repeated, hoping that saying his name would help anchor you in this unfamiliar reality. Despite the overwhelming uncertainty, you felt a small sense of reassurance knowing he was there, a steady presence in the storm of your fractured memories.
Emily arrived at the hospital within the hour, her eyes filled with concern and determination as she made her way to your room. When she saw you, relief flooded her features, and she rushed to your side, wrapping her arms around you in a warm, reassuring embrace.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Emily murmured, holding you tightly as she stroked your hair. “I’m here, Y/N. We’ll figure this out together.”
You clung to her, the familiar comfort of her presence grounding you in the midst of the chaos. For the first time since waking up, you felt a sense of safety, a reminder of the life you remembered.
Spencer watched the reunion, his heart aching with a mixture of emotions. He was grateful that Emily was there for you, knowing how much you needed her support right now. But there was also a longing, a deep-seated hope that one day, you would remember the life you had built with him, the love that had grown between you.
As you leaned into Emily's embrace, you whispered, “Can you stay with me, please?” Your voice was soft, almost childlike in its vulnerability, and Spencer’s heart clenched at the sound of it.
Emily smiled gently, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face as she nodded. “Of course, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here,” she said, guilt tinging her words. “I came as soon as I heard.”
“It’s okay,” you replied, offering her a small, reassuring smile. “Peter is really nice.”
The misstep in Spencer's name hit him like a physical blow, and yet he understood. You were trying your best to piece things together, to make sense of the world around you, and that meant trying to fit him into a picture that didn’t quite match the reality you remembered. 
Emily glanced at Spencer, a flicker of understanding in her eyes as she gave him a supportive nod. She knew how hard this must be for him, watching you struggle to recall the love and life you shared. 
Spencer swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing himself to return Emily’s nod with a small, grateful smile. He knew that rebuilding the bridge to your past wouldn’t be easy, but he was willing to do whatever it took to help you find your way back. 
He remained quiet, a gentle presence in the background as Emily continued to comfort you, knowing that while he might not be the one you remembered now, he would do everything in his power to be the one you’d remember in the future.
Spencer eventually went home, the weight of the last few days pressing heavily on his shoulders. The hospital had become a second home in the wake of the accident, but now, as he drove through the familiar streets of Quantico, he felt the exhaustion finally catch up with him. 
The apartment was quiet when he arrived, the silence amplifying the absence of your presence. He dropped his bag by the door and stood in the entryway for a moment, looking around the space that had been your shared sanctuary. Everything about it—the framed photos, the little touches that marked your shared life—felt like an echo of the past he was desperate to help you remember.
He made his way to the bathroom, shedding his clothes and stepping into the shower. The hot water cascaded over him, washing away the grime and fatigue, but doing little to ease the turmoil inside. As the steam filled the room, Spencer closed his eyes, allowing the water to drown out the noise in his head for just a moment. 
He thought about you, lying in that hospital bed, trying to piece together a life you couldn’t remember. The thought of your struggle weighed heavily on him, and he wished more than anything that he could simply take away the burden of your amnesia. But he knew that wasn’t possible, and it frustrated him deeply.
Stepping out of the shower, Spencer wrapped a towel around his waist and caught his reflection in the mirror. The face staring back at him was etched with worry and sleepless nights. He knew he needed to rest, to recharge so he could be strong for you, but his mind was already racing with possibilities, with ways to help you find your way back to the life you had known.
Reluctantly, he made his way to the bedroom and sank into the mattress, pulling the covers over himself. 
When Spencer awoke, the morning light was filtering through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. He stretched, feeling the knots in his muscles protest at the movement, but he pushed through, determined to make the most of the day ahead.
His mind immediately returned to you and the questions that had haunted him since the accident. He needed answers, a plan, something tangible he could use to help you. Rising from the bed, he quickly dressed and made his way to the library, his thoughts already churning with possibilities.
The library was quiet, a haven of knowledge waiting to be tapped into. Spencer made his way through the aisles, pulling books from the shelves with practiced ease. He found volumes on neurology, psychology, and memory restoration, stacking them on the table as he prepared to dive deep into his research.
Sitting down, Spencer opened the first book, his fingers flipping through the pages with the kind of fervor only a man on a mission possessed. He absorbed every word, every study and theory on amnesia and retrograde amnesia, searching for anything that might provide a glimmer of hope.
He read about the mechanisms of memory, the ways trauma could affect the brain's ability to store and retrieve information. He learned about the potential for memory recovery, the techniques that could aid in jogging the mind back to the present, and the importance of emotional connections in bridging the gaps.
As the hours passed, Spencer lost himself in the sea of information, each new piece of knowledge building upon the last. He scribbled notes in the margins, cross-referencing studies and compiling a mental list of strategies he could employ to help you.
It was a daunting task, but Spencer felt a sense of purpose in the research, a way to channel his love for you into something tangible. He was determined to do everything he could to help you regain your memory, to guide you back to the life you had shared together. 
For Spencer, this was more than just a quest for answers—it was a testament to the bond that had grown between you, a bond he was unwilling to let go of. He was ready to fight for your future, to be there for you in whatever capacity you needed, until the day your eyes lit up with recognition and the memories flooded back. 
With renewed resolve, Spencer closed the book he was reading, his mind buzzing with ideas and possibilities. He gathered his notes, feeling a sense of determination settle over him. He would be there for you, no matter how long it took, until you found your way back to him.
Spencer called Emily, feeling a slight tremor in his fingers as he punched in her number. He knew how delicate your situation was, and he didn’t want to risk upsetting you with his presence if it would cause more harm than good. As the phone rang, he took a deep breath, hoping that Emily would have some insight into how you were doing and whether it would be okay for him to visit.
“Hello?” Emily’s voice came through the line, sounding calm but tinged with exhaustion.
“Emily, it’s Spencer,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady despite the nervousness fluttering in his chest. “I wanted to check in and see how Y/N is doing... and if it would be alright for me to come back to the hospital. I don’t want to overwhelm her, but I think I might have found some helpful information on memory restoration tactics.”
There was a brief pause on the other end, and Spencer could hear the soft murmur of the hospital in the background, the distant beeps of monitors and the hushed conversations of medical staff. Emily sighed softly, and he could picture her leaning against the wall outside your room, her hand running through her hair as she considered his request.
“Spencer, she’s been asking about you,” Emily finally said, her voice gentle and reassuring. “I think she wants to start trying to piece things together a little, and having you here might actually help.”
The fragments of your past felt like pieces of a puzzle scattered across the table, and you were trying to fit them together. The memory of just having graduated college and moving in with Emily in Europe while she worked for Interpol was clear in your mind, yet the reality you were living in contradicted that memory in every way. You obviously went to college, got an important job, met someone, and fell in love. That would be nice to remember.
The thought of your life now—a life filled with achievements, meaningful relationships, and moments of joy—was enticing. You felt a sense of longing to reconnect with those parts of yourself, to remember the paths that led you to where you were today. The idea of having accomplished so much, of having people in your life who cared deeply for you, filled you with both curiosity and determination.
You sat in the hospital bed, the beeping of the monitors a constant reminder of the present, and tried to reconcile the gap between what you knew and what was real. There was a sense of urgency within you, a desire to reclaim the life that had slipped through your fingers due to the accident.
As you contemplated this, Spencer arrived, a reassuring presence amidst the confusion. He had a folder in hand, filled with information he’d painstakingly gathered to aid in your recovery. His expression was one of quiet resolve, a testament to his commitment to helping you find your way back.
“Hey, Y/N,” Spencer greeted softly, taking a seat beside your bed. His eyes were warm and encouraging, and you couldn’t help but feel comforted by his presence. “I know this is a lot to take in, but I’ve found some information that might help you remember.”
You nodded, eager to hear what he had discovered. The prospect of understanding more about your life, your achievements, and the connection you shared with Spencer filled you with hope.
Spencer opened the folder, revealing a collection of notes, articles, and studies on memory restoration and retrograde amnesia. “I’ve been looking into different techniques and therapies that could aid in restoring your memories,” he explained, his voice steady and full of purpose.
He began to outline the various strategies he had found, discussing everything from cognitive therapy and memory exercises to more experimental approaches. As he spoke, you listened intently, absorbing the possibilities and feeling a flicker of determination ignite within you.
“I believe that with the right approach and support, we can hopefully help you piece together your memories,” Spencer said, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering sincerity. “I’m here to support you in whatever way you need. We can do this together, one step at a time.”
His words resonated with you, and you found yourself nodding along, feeling a renewed sense of hope. The idea of reclaiming your memories, of rediscovering the life you had built, felt like a light at the end of a long tunnel. 
“Thank you, Spencer,” you said softly, your voice filled with gratitude. “I want to remember.”
The hospital released you into Emily’s care. While the medical staff had done everything they could, the journey to regaining your memory would continue outside the hospital walls.
The decision to stay with Emily instead of Spencer hurt him, but it felt like the right choice for now. As much as Spencer wanted to be there for you, he understood the need for you to be in an environment that felt familiar and safe. The last thing he wanted was to push you further away by overwhelming you with too much, too soon.
“It’s okay,” Spencer assured you as you prepared to leave the hospital. His voice was steady, but the flicker of pain in his eyes was unmistakable. “I understand. Emily will take good care of you, and I’m just a phone call away if you need anything.”
You nodded, appreciating his understanding. A part of you felt guilty for not choosing to stay with him, especially considering how kind and supportive he had been. But the gaps in your memory left you feeling adrift, and being with Emily was like holding onto a piece of your past that still made sense. Besides, he was still technically a stranger.
The drive to yours and Spencer’s apartment was quiet, Emily navigating the streets with the ease of someone who knew them well. You sat in the passenger seat, watching the city pass by, anticipation and apprehension swirling within you. This was a chance to see the life you had built, to find clues that might help bridge the chasm between the past you remembered and the present you couldn’t grasp.
Arriving at the apartment building, you felt a sense of déjà vu, as if you had been here countless times before, but it was all shrouded in fog. Emily led you up to the front door, her presence reassuring and calm as she unlocked it and gestured for you to step inside.
The apartment was warm and inviting, filled with little touches that spoke of a life shared between two people. You took a tentative step inside, your eyes scanning the space as you tried to grasp any spark of recognition. The furniture, the décor, the scent of your favorite candle burning on the coffee table—everything felt just out of reach.
But it was the photographs that caught your attention, lining the walls and filling the shelves with captured moments of happiness and love. You walked over to a series of framed photos, your heart aching at the sight of the images. There you were, smiling and laughing with Spencer, your faces filled with joy.
There was a picture of the two of you on a hiking trip, arms around each other as you gazed at the camera, the sun setting behind you. Another of you dancing together at what appeared to be a wedding, Spencer’s hand on the small of your back, your face lit with laughter.
And then there was the one that brought tears to your eyes—an image of you and Spencer sharing a tender kiss, your arms wrapped around his neck, his hand gently holding your waist while the other stretched out to hold the camera. The love captured in that single moment was undeniable, and yet it was a memory you couldn’t access, a chapter of your life that felt painfully distant.
Tears streamed down your cheeks as the weight of what you had lost settled over you. You turned away from the photos, covering your face with your hands as sobs wracked your body. The sadness was overwhelming, a deep, unbearable grief for the beautiful life you couldn’t remember.
Emily was at your side in an instant, her arm wrapping around you as she whispered soothing words, trying to calm the storm of emotions that had taken hold.
“I’m so sorry,” you cried, your voice breaking with the depth of your sorrow. “I’m so sorry, Spencer. I wish I could remember. I wish I could—”
Spencer’s expression was filled with compassion and understanding, though his heart ached at the sight of your distress. He longed to reach out and hold you, to reassure you that it was okay, that you would find your way back to him in time. But he knew that the memories were something you had to reclaim on your own.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Spencer said gently, his voice soft and comforting. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.”
Despite his reassuring words, the pain of not being able to remember was too much to bear. You were inconsolable, and Emily could see that you needed space to process everything, away from the emotional overload of the apartment.
“Let’s go home, Y/N,” Emily suggested softly, guiding you toward the door with a gentle touch. “We can come back another time when you’re ready.”
You nodded, allowing her to lead you away, the tears still streaming down your face. Spencer watched as Emily escorted you out, his heart heavy with sadness. 
The following Monday, the next step in your recovery journey was to visit your workplace, a place where you had spent countless hours building a career you could no longer remember. The decision to bring you back into the office was made with the hope that it might jog some of your lost memories, and while it felt daunting, you were determined to face it head-on.
Emily drove you to the FBI headquarters, the massive building both imposing and familiar as you approached. You had been nervous about this visit, unsure of how it would make you feel or what it might stir within you. Your unit chief had been extremely understanding about your situation, assuring you that you had all the time you needed to recover and that your job would be waiting for you if and when you were ready to return. The possibility of never coming back loomed large, but today was about exploring what felt right.
As you walked through the corridors, passing colleagues who greeted you with warm smiles and words of encouragement, you felt a mixture of anxiety and curiosity. The familiarity of the surroundings tugged at the edges of your mind, teasing you with whispers of recognition that were just out of reach.
When you finally reached your desk, something shifted within you. A small sense of familiarity washed over you, grounding you in a way that you hadn't expected. The space was uniquely yours, decorated with personal touches that reflected your personality and interests. The colorful keyboard and mouse pad, the photos adorning your workspace, all felt like pieces of yourself that you were slowly rediscovering.
Emily stood beside you, watching as you took it all in. Her presence was reassuring, a steady hand on your shoulder as you navigated the myriad of emotions swirling within you.
"This is your desk," Emily said gently, gesturing to the array of decorations and mementos that made it uniquely yours. 
You ran your fingers over the keyboard, tracing the familiar keys, and then turned your attention to the photos. There were images of you and Emily from your first apartment together in D.C., snapshots of a time when life felt full of possibility and adventure. Your eyes lingered on the photos of you and Spencer, capturing moments of joy and love that you desperately wished to remember.
One photo, in particular, caught your eye. It was of you and another person, both of you with wide smiles, arms wrapped tightly around each other, faces pressed together in a display of friendship and affection. The bond between you was evident, even in a still image, and you felt a pang of longing to recall the memories associated with it.
“Who are all of these people?” you asked, your voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of sadness.
Emily leaned in, pointing to the photo of you and the person who seemed to be a close friend. “That is your best friend, Noah,” she explained. Her smile was warm, the fondness for your friendship evident in her tone. “You two have been inseparable for years. They’ve been by your side through thick and thin.”
You studied the photo, trying to summon any fragment of memory, but the connection eluded you. Still, it was comforting to know that you had someone like Noah in your life, a constant presence of support and friendship.
Emily then pointed to another photo, this one featuring a large group of people gathered in a spacious kitchen that looked to be part of a grand mansion. The scene was lively and filled with laughter, the closeness between everyone palpable even in a photograph.
“And that,” Emily said, gesturing to the group photo, “is my team. The Behavioral Analysis Unit, at David Rossi’s house for pasta and wine. It’s a tradition of ours to get together and unwind after a long week. You’ve become a part of that tradition too.”
The photo brought a sense of warmth and belonging that tugged at your heartstrings. Though you couldn’t remember the specifics of the event, the image conveyed a sense of community and acceptance, a reminder that you were surrounded by people who cared for you deeply.
You nodded, feeling a mix of emotions—gratefulness for the connections you had forged, sadness for the memories that remained out of reach, and determination to piece it all together. As overwhelming as it was, the visit to your workplace had sparked something within you, a desire to reclaim the life you had lost and reconnect with the people who meant so much to you.
“Thank you for bringing me here, Emily,” you said softly, turning to your sister with gratitude in your eyes.
Emily smiled, her hand squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. “You’re doing great, Y/N.”
After spending some time familiarizing yourself with your desk and the environment, you felt a little more grounded. Emily suggested taking a break, and the two of you made your way to the break room for some coffee. The small talk and casual atmosphere provided a sense of normalcy, and you found yourself relaxing into the environment, even if it still felt like you were seeing it all for the first time.
As you sipped your coffee, Emily shared stories about the team, painting vivid pictures of the friendships that had developed over the years. Her words were filled with warmth, and you could sense the deep bond that connected everyone in the unit.
“–and then you and Penelope performed as much of the Rent musical as you could while Spencer took you home from girls' night.”
You laughed, a joyous feeling after all the sadness and confusion you’d been wearing like a cloud. It felt good to feel lighthearted again, if only for a moment, and the image of yourself belting out show tunes with Penelope at the top of your lungs was both hilarious and comforting.
“Was he mad?” you asked, picturing the scene in your mind.
“Quite the opposite,” Emily said, her eyes twinkling with amusement at the memory. “He asked you out the next week at work.”
“That’s so sweet,” you said, a warm glow spreading through you at the thought of Spencer’s patience and kindness. 
“He really loves you,” Emily added, her voice gentle and full of sincerity. 
You looked down at your coffee cup, a mix of emotions swirling within you. “I just can’t believe I’m loved so much by someone I don’t remember,” you said softly, your words carrying the weight of your current reality. 
Spencer hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but as he was walking to the break room, your voice reached his ears, and he froze just outside the door. The sound of your laughter was like music to him, a familiar melody he had sorely missed since the accident. It felt normal to hear you in the building, like it had been before, a sense of déjà vu that was both comforting and bittersweet.
But hearing that last snippet of conversation—that you couldn’t believe you were loved by someone you didn’t remember—was like a punch to the gut. It was a reminder of how much had been lost, how fragile the threads of your connection had become in the wake of your amnesia.
Spencer’s heart clenched with longing and sadness. He wanted to be there with you, to share in the laughter and help rebuild the life you had once shared. Yet, he also knew that the path to healing was not a straight line and that you needed time to find your footing.
With a heavy heart, Spencer decided against going into the break room. He felt it would be too much to face you right then, knowing that he was part of the gap in your memory. He turned on his heel, heading back to his desk with a resolve to give you the space you needed while still being there for you in whatever way he could.
Back in his office, Spencer tried to focus on his work, but his mind kept drifting back to you and the conversation he had overheard. He wished he could do more, be more, to help you remember. The thought of the love you had shared, a love you now couldn’t recall, weighed heavily on him.
Over the next few weeks, life became a series of ups and downs, filled with moments of both clarity and confusion. Living with Emily had its comforting moments—her presence a soothing balm to the chaos in your mind. You cherished the time you spent with her, grateful for the bond that had been rekindled. You missed Emily deeply during high school, and living with her felt like a second chance to reconnect and make up for lost time. 
But the reason for your reunion weighed heavily on you. You were so happy to be living with Emily again, until you remembered why. Some nights, the memories—or lack thereof—were overwhelming, and you’d find yourself crying silently into your pillow, grieving for the life you learned about but couldn’t recall. You mourned for the person you once were, the experiences you’d lost, and the love you had built with Spencer, a man who was now a stranger in your life.
In those darker moments, a part of you wondered if a second accident could somehow reverse the damage, though you knew deep down that it wouldn’t work. The thought was fleeting, a desperate whisper in your mind, quickly silenced by the knowledge that the path to healing lay elsewhere.
You wanted to love Spencer, you really did. Everything you’d learned about him painted a picture of a man who was kind, intelligent, and deeply devoted to you. But every time you looked at him, all you felt was a sense of apathy and resentment. It was an unfair burden, one you didn’t want to carry but couldn’t seem to shake. He knew you, but you didn’t know him. He had gotten to know the you that you couldn’t remember, had built a life with a version of yourself that no longer existed. 
Safe to say, you hadn’t spoken to anyone but Emily since that day at Spencer’s apartment. Despite Emily’s best efforts to coax you out of your shell, to encourage you to re-engage with the world, you found solace only in her presence. She would suggest small outings, opportunities to reintroduce you to the life you’d lived—a coffee date with Penelope, a lunch with Noah, a casual dinner with the BAU team—but you declined each invitation with a sense of dread.
Emily understood your reluctance, though she worried about the isolation you were imposing on yourself. She was patient, never pushing too hard, but she tried her best to gently encourage you to take those first steps toward reconnecting with your life.
"Y/N," she said one afternoon as you both sat in the living room, the afternoon sun streaming through the windows. "I know it’s hard, but you have so many people who care about you. They’re all here, ready to support you whenever you’re ready."
You nodded, your eyes fixed on the floor. “I know,” you replied softly, your voice tinged with frustration and sadness. “I just... I don’t know how to face them, Emily. It’s like they’re expecting me to be someone I’m not.”
Emily reached over, taking your hand in hers, her grip reassuring. “They’re not expecting anything,” she said gently. “They just want to be there for you, to help you find your way back. And you don’t have to do it alone. I’ll be with you.”
Despite her words, the idea of facing Spencer or any of your friends felt daunting. It wasn’t just about remembering; it was about rebuilding a sense of self that had been shattered by the accident. You felt like a puzzle with missing pieces, unsure of how to fit back into the picture of your own life.
One night, as you lay in bed, the weight of it all pressed heavily on your chest. You stared at the ceiling, the darkness a mirror to the emptiness you felt inside. The person you were before the accident seemed like a ghost, haunting the edges of your consciousness, taunting you with glimpses of a life you couldn’t quite grasp.
Tears slipped silently down your cheeks as you grieved for the life you’d lost, for the love that was now a distant memory. It felt like an insurmountable chasm between the past and present, a gap you couldn’t bridge no matter how hard you tried.
You curled up under the covers, wishing for relief from the emotional storm, longing for a sense of belonging that remained elusive. But as much as you yearned for the past, you knew the journey to healing had to start from where you were now—from this moment, with its uncertainties and challenges.
Emily found you the next morning, the traces of tears still visible on your face. She didn’t say anything, simply pulled you into a hug, offering her silent support. You leaned into her embrace, grateful for the unconditional love and understanding she provided.
“I’m here, Y/N,” Emily murmured, her voice steady and reassuring. “Whenever you’re ready to take that next step, I’m here.”
On a random Tuesday morning, you regained a glimpse of yourself. It was an ordinary day, the sun barely peeking over the horizon as you padded into the kitchen, the scent of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. Emily was already there, pouring herself a cup and offering you a warm smile as you entered.
"Good morning," she said, her voice carrying the comforting tone you had come to rely on over the past few weeks.
“Did I bring any files home?” you asked, the question slipping out naturally as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “I want to review the Cooper case.”
Emily whipped around so fast she thought she might get whiplash, her eyes wide with shock and a glimmer of hope. “What did you just say?” she asked, her voice almost trembling with anticipation.
“The Cooper case?” you repeated, frowning slightly as you tried to grasp the memory that felt just within reach. “Oh, I wanted to review the evidence for the upcoming trial. I want to make sure that son of a bitch gets locked away.”
Emily’s face lit up with astonishment and disbelief, a slow grin spreading across her features. “Y/N… how do you remember that?” she asked, her voice tinged with awe.
“What?” you blinked, the realization dawning on you like a gentle wave, the fog lifting ever so slightly. “Oh…” you murmured, the pieces clicking into place.
“Oh my god! Oh my god! I remember!” you exclaimed, your heart pounding with excitement and relief.
“Do you remember anything else?” Emily asked eagerly, stepping closer as if to catch every word.
“My, um, my unit chief… her name is, uh, Sarah Freeman!” you said, a smile breaking across your face as more fragments of memory bubbled to the surface. It was like pulling on a thread and watching a tapestry unfold before your eyes.
“That’s amazing! You’re amazing!” Emily cheered, her eyes shining with pride and joy. She grabbed your hands, squeezing them tightly as if to anchor this precious moment in reality. “I’m going to call your doctor! Keep thinking!”
You nodded, your mind racing with possibilities. There was a thrill in the air, a sense of rediscovery that felt like sunlight streaming into a darkened room. 
As the days and weeks passed, your world gradually came into sharper focus. You began to remember more and more, and your doctors believed that your brain was finally healing from the trauma of the accident, allowing you to access information that had been temporarily locked away. It was as if the fog that had settled over your mind was beginning to lift, and the memories of your life were emerging from the shadows.
With each passing day, you started seeing people more. The familiarity of their faces and the warmth of their presence became less overwhelming and more comforting. You remembered small bits of Noah, moving in with Emily, a few girls’ nights, and coffee dates with Penelope. Each memory was like a small gift, a piece of the puzzle that was slowly coming together.
Whenever you shared a memory with someone, it was met with tears of joy and hugs of relief. They were all so patient and understanding, celebrating every little moment of rediscovery with you. It was a testament to the love and support that surrounded you, a constant reminder that you were not alone on this journey.
With your birthday approaching, the excitement in the air was palpable. Everyone was thrilled that they would at least get to celebrate with you, even if the memories of past birthdays were still hazy. The anticipation of the party, the chance to be surrounded by the people who meant so much to you, filled you with a sense of hope and gratitude.
The only person you couldn’t seem to remember, however, was Spencer. Despite the progress you were making with others, there was an inexplicable block when it came to him. It was as if the memories you shared were trapped behind a door that refused to open, no matter how hard you tried. 
Spencer felt the weight of this exclusion acutely. While everyone else reveled in your regained memories, he remained on the outside, watching as you reconnected with the life you’d once shared. At first, he tried to be patient, understanding that recovery was a complex and unpredictable process. But as time went on and the memories continued to elude you, Spencer began to feel a growing frustration, a simmering resentment that he struggled to contain.
The night of your birthday party arrived, and Emily had invited everyone important to you: the BAU team, Noah, your unit chief, and colleagues. The apartment was filled with laughter and music, the air buzzing with the joy of celebration. You moved through the crowd, receiving hugs and well-wishes, feeling more like yourself than you had in months.
The party was a joyful affair, filled with the warmth of friends and loved ones, each of them eager to share in the celebration of your continued recovery. You spent time with everyone, enjoying the opportunity to catch up and reconnect. 
You found yourself talking to Derek Morgan, recounting a small memory that had surfaced earlier in the day—a humorous moment from a case your units had worked on together. Derek’s laughter echoed through the room, a rich, joyful sound that drew the attention of others nearby. 
Spencer overheard your conversation with Derek and felt the frustration within him build past his boiling point. It was like a dam breaking, all the emotions he had tried to keep in check spilling over into an overwhelming wave. The exclusion, the constant reminder that you remembered everyone but him, finally pushed him to the edge.
Unable to contain his feelings any longer, Spencer stormed past you, his shoulder bumping into yours as he made his way toward the front door. The suddenness of his actions caught you off guard, the usually sweet and gentle Spencer now a storm of emotions.
“Spencer?” you called after him, confused by the abruptness of his departure. You quickly excused yourself from Derek and followed Spencer, determined to understand what had upset him.
You found Spencer in the hallway of the building, his back turned to you as he tried to compose himself. But when he turned around, you saw the angry tears in his eyes, the hurt etched across his features. It was a side of Spencer you hadn’t seen before, and it unsettled you.
“Spencer, what’s wrong?” you asked, your voice gentle but firm, wanting to understand the source of his pain.
He took a deep breath, his emotions churning within him. The question felt like a catalyst, igniting the frustration and hurt he had been holding onto for so long. And then, finally, he exploded, the words tumbling out in a torrent of anger and anguish.
“Why, Y/N?” Spencer’s voice was raw, filled with desperation and resentment. “Why do you remember everyone but me? Do you secretly remember me but don’t know how to break it off, so you keep pretending you don’t know me?”
His accusation hung in the air, sharp and cutting. It was a blow that took your breath away, the depth of his pain evident in every word. Spencer’s eyes bore into yours, searching for answers, for some explanation that could make sense of the exclusion he felt so deeply.
“I’m not pretending, Spencer,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, the shock of his words settling over you like a heavy fog. “I wish I could remember. I want to remember you more than anything.”
Spencer’s expression shifted, hurt and frustration warring within him. He turned away, running a hand through his hair as he tried to gather his thoughts. “It just feels like... like I’m the only one left out,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I watch you remember all these moments, all these people, and I keep hoping that one day you’ll look at me and just... know.”
His words hung in the air, each syllable a reminder of the distance that had grown between you—a distance neither of you wanted, but couldn’t seem to bridge. It was like standing on opposite sides of a vast chasm, reaching for one another but never quite able to touch.
“You think this is easy for me?” you shot back, your voice rising with each word. “Do you think I wanted to get hit by a semi and lose my memories? No! I want it all back, I want my life back.” You took a step closer, the intensity of your emotions propelling you forward. “Do you know how much it kills me that you know a version of me that I don’t? You want her back, and so do I, but Jesus Christ, Spencer! I’m not her, I can’t just be her, I’m fucking trying, okay?”
The hallway seemed to close in around you as you stood there, the weight of your words hanging heavy between you. Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise at the raw honesty in your voice, the depth of your struggle laid bare before him.
“I know you’re trying,” Spencer said, his voice softening even as his frustration simmered beneath the surface. “But it’s so hard to watch you remember everyone else and not me. It feels like I’m losing you all over again, every single day.”
"I’m losing myself too!” you replied, your voice breaking with emotion. “Every time I remember something, it’s like I’m meeting a stranger who’s supposed to be me. It’s terrifying, and I don’t know how to make it better. And it doesn’t help when I’m constantly reminded that you’re disappointed in me too.”
Spencer ran a hand over his face, his own anger and hurt warring with the compassion he still felt for you. He wanted to say the right thing, but his emotions were tangled, pulling him in different directions. The frustration that had built up over the weeks finally met the compassion he still felt for you.
“I’m sorry,” he said, the fight leaving his voice as he took a step back, trying to regain control. His eyes softened as he looked at you, the anger giving way to vulnerability. “I know it’s not fair to put this on you. God, I’m not disappointed in you, I’m just... I’m scared, Y/N. I’m scared that I’ll never get you back.”
The vulnerability in his words pierced through your own defenses, the rawness of his confession echoing the fears that had plagued you both. It was as if the anger that had fueled the argument had stripped away the layers, leaving only the truth of your shared fears and insecurities.
You sighed, your own anger giving way to a wave of exhaustion and sadness. The argument had drained you both, leaving behind a hollow ache that you couldn’t ignore. “I’m scared too,” you admitted, your voice trembling as you spoke. “I’m scared that I’ll never be able to remember the love we had, that I’ll never be able to be the person you fell in love with.”
Spencer's eyes met yours, and you could see the struggle within him—the longing to reach out and bridge the gap between you, the desire to hold onto the love that had once been so strong and certain. “You’re still the person I fell in love with,” he said softly, his voice tinged with desperation. “I know it’s hard to see right now, but you are. And I don’t want to lose you, even if it means starting over.”
His words hung in the air, a lifeline thrown across the chasm that had opened between you. You took a deep breath, the weight of his words. 
“Can I ask you something?” Spencer spoke up, his voice laced with vulnerability. His eyes held yours, searching for an answer he seemed afraid to hear but needed to know nonetheless.
“Of course,” you replied, curious about what was weighing so heavily on him. You wanted to reassure him, to offer some comfort amid the storm of emotions that had engulfed you both.
“Do you find me attractive?” Spencer’s question was simple, yet it held a complexity of emotions—self-doubt, insecurity, a desire for reassurance.
“Spencer… what?” you asked, taken aback by the suddenness of his inquiry. You hadn’t expected that question, and yet, as you looked at him, you realized how important your answer would be.
He shifted his weight, his gaze dropping for a moment before returning to yours, the raw honesty in his expression clear as day. “Do you think that I am attractive? Even now, that you don’t remember me?”
You considered his question carefully. Spencer was undeniably an attractive person—his features were striking, with a gentle kindness in his eyes and a quiet strength in his posture. There was an undeniable allure to him, a magnetic pull that you felt even in your current state of confusion. 
You imagined seeing him in a bar or a crowded room, where his presence would stand out, where you would undoubtedly look twice. His intelligence, the way he carried himself with quiet confidence, and the kindness in his eyes were all qualities that would draw you in.
“Yes,” you replied honestly, your voice steady and sincere. “Yes, Spencer, I find you attractive.”
Spencer let out a small breath he seemed to have been holding, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he absorbed your answer. There was a flicker of relief in his eyes, a subtle shift that spoke volumes about how much your opinion mattered to him.
“Thank you,” he said softly, his voice a blend of gratitude and something deeper, something that felt like hope.
You took a step closer, wanting to close the distance between you. “Spencer, it’s not just about looks,” you added, wanting to make him understand. “I may not remember everything, but I can see the person you are. The way you care, the way you’ve been so patient with me… that’s what makes you truly attractive.”
His lips curved into a tentative smile, the tension in his features easing as your words reached him. It was a smile that held the promise of new beginnings, a shared understanding that even in the absence of memory, there was a foundation upon which you could rebuild.
Spencer nodded, a small chuckle escaping him as he rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture you found endearing. “I guess I just needed to hear it,” he admitted, his vulnerability laid bare in that moment.
You nodded, reaching out to take his hand in yours. “We’ll figure it out,” you said, your voice filled with determination.
Spencer's fingers intertwined with yours, his touch gentle yet reassuring. The simple act of holding hands felt like a small victory, a step toward rebuilding the connection that had been so abruptly severed.
“You couldn’t possibly remember this,” Spencer said with a wry smile, “but I don’t usually touch people’s hands. It’s actually safer to kiss; fewer germs are spread that way.”
You let out a laugh, the tension between you dissolving into a moment of lightness. It was the first genuine laugh you'd shared since the accident, and it felt like a breath of fresh air. 
“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” you replied, raising an eyebrow with a teasing grin. “But if that’s a line, it’s not working.”
Spencer chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “It’s not a line, I promise,” he said, a hint of mischief in his tone. “Just one of those strange facts about me you’ll probably hear more about as you get to know me again.”
“Good to know,” you said, your smile softening into something more sincere. “But for now, hand-holding is just fine.”
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter and joy, a celebration not just of your birthday but of the progress you had made and the hope that lay ahead. Surrounded by friends and loved ones, you felt a sense of belonging, a reminder that even in the midst of adversity, there was a community that held you close.
As the night drew to a close, you and Spencer stood together on the balcony, the city lights twinkling in the distance like stars. It was a moment of quiet reflection, a chance to breathe and appreciate the small victories that had brought you to this point.
“Happy birthday, Y/N,” Spencer said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that resonated deep within you. 
You turned to him, your heart full of gratitude and the promise of what was to come. “Thank you, Spencer,” you replied, your words laced with sincerity.
“Y/N! Spencer is here for you!” Emily called out from the living room, her voice carrying through the apartment with an excited lilt that made you smile.
You were in your bedroom, putting the finishing touches on your outfit, excitement and nervousness fluttering in your stomach. Today marked your fifth date with Spencer, a milestone that felt both exhilarating and significant as the two of you continued to rebuild your relationship from the ground up.
The past few weeks had been a journey of rediscovery. You and Spencer had taken it slow, giving each other the space and time needed to navigate the complexities of your situation. Each date had been a new beginning, a chance to learn about each other all over again, and it had been going well—better than you had dared to hope.
You’d spent hours talking about everything and nothing, sharing stories and memories that both filled in the gaps and created new ones. There were still moments of hesitation and uncertainty, but they were gradually being replaced by laughter and warmth, a growing sense of familiarity that felt like home.
Taking one last look in the mirror, you adjusted your necklace and took a deep breath, feeling a thrill of anticipation for the evening ahead. You made your way to the living room, where Emily was chatting with Spencer, her eyes lighting up with the kind of mischief only a big sister could muster.
“Hey, Spencer,” you greeted him with a smile, feeling the familiar flutter in your chest that had become a welcome sensation. “Ready to go?”
Spencer turned toward you, his face breaking into a warm smile that made your heart skip a beat. He looked dapper in a casual blazer and slacks, an outfit that struck the perfect balance between relaxed and stylish.
“Wow, you look amazing,” he said, his eyes filled with admiration as he took in your appearance. "If I had known you were going to look this stunning, I would have worn my best suit."
You laughed, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "Oh, please, you look great," you replied, meeting his gaze with a teasing grin. “Besides, I think we match perfectly. You know, two fashion icons taking on the city."
Emily watched the exchange with a satisfied smile, clearly pleased to see the chemistry between you and Spencer reigniting. She gave you a playful nudge, her eyes sparkling with encouragement. “Have fun, you two,” she said, ushering you toward the door. “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
You laughed, rolling your eyes at Emily’s antics, before turning back to Spencer. “Shall we?” you asked, extending your hand toward him.
Spencer took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze that sent a reassuring pulse of connection between you. “We shall,” he replied with a grin, leading you out the door and into the evening that awaited.
The drive was filled with easy conversation, the kind that flowed naturally and effortlessly between you. You chatted about everything from work to your favorite TV shows, reveling in the comfort of each other’s company.
“So, where are we going tonight?” you asked, curious about the plans Spencer had made for your date.
“It’s a surprise,” he said cryptically, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “But I think you’re going to love it.”
“Really?” you said, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk. “Are you sure it’s not just another one of your ploys to impress me?”
Spencer chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Would it be working if it was?”
“You’ll have to wait and see,” you teased, giving him a flirtatious glance as the car continued through the city.
Eventually, you arrived at a charming little restaurant tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. It was the kind of place that exuded warmth and intimacy, the cozy ambiance inviting you in as soon as you stepped through the door.
“Wow, this place is lovely,” you said, taking in the dim lighting, the soft music playing in the background, and the delicious aroma of Italian cuisine wafting through the air.
Spencer smiled, clearly pleased with your reaction. “I thought it might be a nice spot for us to relax and enjoy some good food,” he said, leading you to a table by the window that offered a view of the city lights twinkling in the distance.
“So, any more memories come back recently?” Spencer asked gently, his tone curious yet considerate, as if he knew the subject was still delicate.
You nodded, feeling a flicker of excitement as you recounted some of the fragments that had returned. “I remembered a trip I took with Emily last year to the beach. We ended up getting caught in a rainstorm and had to take cover in this little café, where we spent the afternoon playing board games. It was such a fun day.”
Spencer listened intently, a smile tugging at his lips as you spoke. “That sounds amazing,” he said, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding. “You know, we had a similar rainy day adventure once. It involved an umbrella, a very wet cat, and an impromptu rendition of Singin’ in the Rain in a park.”
“Did we now?” you replied, a playful twinkle in your eyes. “Are you sure you weren’t just trying to get me to fall for your charming rendition of a classic?”
“Guilty as charged,” Spencer admitted with a laugh, his gaze meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart flutter.
“Tell me, though, did we kiss in the rain?” you asked, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively.
Spencer blushed, a charming pink spreading across his cheeks. “We might have…”
“How scandalous!” you replied, feigning shock, but the playful glint in your eyes gave you away.
“You were the one who initiated it!” Spencer shot back, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
“Oh yeah, am I just supposed to believe you?” you teased, leaning back in your chair with a smirk. “You could be making it all up just to impress me.”
“Well,” Spencer said, a hint of mischief in his voice, “it is supposed to rain later. We could test out the theory.”
“Spencer Reid, you dog!” you exclaimed, laughing at the thought of dancing in the rain with him.
You shared a laugh, the sound mingling with the gentle hum of the restaurant around you. It felt like the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble of happiness.
After dinner, you and Spencer strolled through a scenic path in the park, hand in hand. The night was pleasantly cool, and the stars dotted the sky like scattered jewels. The conversation between you flowed effortlessly, a blend of teasing and genuine connection that made the evening feel special.
“I thought it was supposed to rain?” you mused aloud, glancing up at the sky.
“Are you disappointed it’s not?” Spencer asked, a playful edge in his voice as he followed your gaze.
“Are you going to kiss me anyway?” you replied with a teasing smile, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.
Spencer froze up for a moment, caught off guard by the boldness of your question. A myriad of thoughts raced through his mind, each one tangling with the next. 
He had been nervous to make any moves on you ever since you’d started dating again. What if you didn’t like how he kissed anymore? Or his scent, or taste? What if you two didn't have rhythm anymore? The fear of these possibilities had kept him in check, cautious and tentative.
“What’s going on in that big brain?” you asked, your voice gentle and full of curiosity. You squeezed his hand, bringing him back to the present. Your touch was reassuring, a reminder that the connection between you was as strong as ever.
Spencer shook his head slightly, chuckling at himself. “Just... overthinking, as usual,” he admitted, meeting your eyes with a sheepish grin. “I’ve just been worried that maybe things aren’t the same between us.”
You tilted your head, regarding him with a soft smile. “Spencer, nothing about you could ever disappoint me. We might be rebuilding things, but I think that’s what makes it exciting. We get to discover everything all over again.”
He nodded, his apprehension slowly melting away as your words resonated with him. The sincerity in your voice was like a balm, soothing the insecurities that had plagued him.
“And besides,” you added with a playful twinkle in your eye, “I think we both know we’ve still got that spark.”
Spencer laughed, his tension finally breaking as he took a step closer. The warmth of your presence enveloped him, and he realized how much he had missed these moments with you—the teasing, the laughter, and the unspoken bond that seemed to transcend the gap of memory.
“You’re right,” Spencer said, his voice softening as he gazed into your eyes. “I’d be more than happy to kiss you, rain or no rain.”
You smiled up at him, your heart fluttering with anticipation. As he leaned in, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you beneath the starlit sky.
When Spencer’s lips met yours, it was like coming home. The kiss was gentle at first, a tentative exploration of the familiar territory that quickly blossomed into something deeper. His lips were soft and warm, and the familiar scent of his skin surrounded you like a comforting embrace. 
All the previous worries melted away as you found your rhythm together, the familiarity and connection more than you could have hoped for. Spencer’s kiss was tender but charged with an intensity that made your heart race, a reminder of the passion and warmth that had always been at the core of your relationship.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, feeling the subtle tension in his muscles beneath your fingertips. Spencer responded in kind, his hands finding their place on your face, drawing you into him as if he was afraid to let go. 
The kiss deepened, and it was as if time had stopped, the world around you fading away until only the two of you remained. Lips slotted together perfectly, tongues gliding in a slow, sensual dance that sent shivers down your spine. 
You felt Spencer’s teeth gently nipping at your bottom lip, a playful gesture that made you gasp softly against his mouth. The small sound seemed to spur him on, and you could feel the gentle pressure of his hands pulling you even closer, until there was no space left between you. 
In that moment, everything felt right—the way his lips moved against yours, the warmth of his touch, and the gentle thrum of your heartbeat syncing with his. It was a moment of pure connection, a dance of lips and breath and emotion that left you both feeling dizzy and alive. 
You could feel the tension and uncertainty of the past few weeks melting away, replaced by a deep sense of belonging and peace. As you finally pulled back, you looked into Spencer’s eyes, seeing your own emotions reflected back at you—the warmth, the longing, the hope that you both shared.
When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless but smiling, the shared moment leaving a lingering warmth that seemed to wrap around you both.
“Wow,” you murmured, gazing up at Spencer with a soft, genuine smile. “That was... perfect.”
Spencer chuckled, relief and joy evident in his eyes. “I’d say it was pretty amazing,” he agreed, still holding you close.
You both lingered there for a while, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment, the cool breeze whispering through the trees, the world feeling just a little bit brighter.
As you continued your stroll through the park, the clouds did open up, and the rain did come, soaking both you and Spencer. The unexpected shower was a sudden thrill, droplets of water cascading down your hair and cheeks, drenching your clothes in moments. The rain brought a fresh, invigorating scent to the air, wrapping around you like a cool embrace as you and Spencer burst into laughter.
“You said you wanted rain,” Spencer quipped, looking at you with a playful glint in his eye, water droplets clinging to his hair and eyelashes.
“I did, didn’t I?” you giggled, brushing a lock of wet hair out of your face. You both sprinted toward his car, shoes splashing through puddles, the sound of your laughter mingling with the rhythm of the rain.
You reached the car, breathless and exhilarated, climbing inside and closing the door behind you. The heated air enveloped you both in a welcome warmth, and you shivered slightly, feeling the chill of your soaked clothes. 
Spencer turned on the car’s heater, and soon the air filled with warmth, contrasting the rain still pelting the car roof outside. You shared a look of amusement, the shared adventure bringing a delightful sense of connection.
“I don’t want to go home, but I’m uncomfortable,” you admitted, glancing down at your soaked clothes with a bemused smile. 
“We could… go back to our—my apartment and change. Maybe watch a movie?” Spencer suggested, his voice soft and inviting, a hint of hesitation in his words as if worried you might say no.
You met his eyes, the warmth in them offering reassurance. “I’d love that,” you replied, your heart fluttering with the anticipation of spending more time with him.
Spencer drove you both back to the apartment, the windshield wipers swishing rhythmically as the rain continued its steady drumming against the car. It was your first time returning to the apartment since the night you’d cried there, overwhelmed by the weight of memories you couldn’t quite grasp. But now, the thought of revisiting felt different, less daunting and more like a step forward.
As you entered the apartment, you paused to take it all in again—the familiar scent, the little touches that made the space feel like home. Spencer watched you with a gentle smile, allowing you to explore at your own pace, offering silent support as you reacquainted yourself with the surroundings.
“Do you want to take a shower?” Spencer asked, breaking the comfortable silence. “All of your stuff is still in there.”
“Um, sure. Thank you,” you replied, grateful for the chance to shake off the chill of the rain.
You made your way to the bathroom, feeling a sense of nostalgia as you stepped inside and closed the door behind you. The shower was just as you remembered it, a familiar haven of warmth and comfort.
The water was soothing as it cascaded over you, washing away the rain and the lingering remnants of the day’s adventure. You felt a sense of relaxation settling in, a quiet moment of peace as you let the warmth envelop you.
But then, as you turned too quickly, your foot slipped, and you fell onto your tailbone with a startled yelp. 
“Ow!” you exclaimed, wincing at the sudden jolt of pain.
“Y/N?? Are you okay?” Spencer’s voice called out from the other side of the door, filled with concern.
“Yeah! I just fell,” you called back, trying to keep your tone light despite the embarrassment.
“I’m coming in,” Spencer announced, the worry evident in his voice.
“Wait, Spencer, no—” you began, but he was already in the bathroom, eyes wide as he took in the scene.
He saw your naked form on the ground of the tub through the clear glass, his expression filled with worry and, perhaps, just a touch of awkwardness.
“Spencer!” you exclaimed, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and amusement.
“What happened? Are you hurt? Did you hit your head?” he asked, his concern overriding any sense of propriety.
“I’m fine, I’m naked!” you replied, laughing at the absurdity of the situation even as you tried to cover yourself.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Spencer said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “I forget. I’ve seen you naked many times.”
“That is so weird,” you teased, rolling your eyes playfully.
Spencer laughed lightly, his eyes twinkling with warmth. “I don’t think so,” he said, his voice softening into something more tender.
“Can I see you then? Even it out?” you asked, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.
“What?” Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, his cheeks flushing a delightful shade of pink.
“I’ve seen you naked before, right?” you continued, your playful tone belying the genuine affection in your gaze.
“Well, yes, but it’s different,” Spencer stammered, trying to maintain his composure.
“So it’s okay for you to see me, but not for me to see you?” you challenged, a teasing lilt in your voice. “Come get in the shower and help me up.”
Spencer hesitated for a moment, then his expression softened into a smile, affection and delight playing across his features. “Alright,” he said, his voice filled with laughter. “Just this once.”
He quickly shed his clothes and joined you in the shower, his presence a comforting warmth amid the steam and water. With a gentle touch, he helped you up, his hands steady and reassuring as he held you close.
“Thank you,” you said softly, meeting his eyes with a smile. 
Spencer’s gaze was warm and tender, his hands lingering on your waist as he smiled back at you. “Anytime,” he replied, his voice a gentle promise. 
Your eyes couldn’t help themselves as they wandered downward, taking in the sight of him. The realization that you were both standing there, unashamedly bare, brought a new kind of awareness that was both amusing and endearing.
“Y/N!” Spencer laughed. “Eyes up here.”
“I'm sorry,” you said with a playful smirk, your eyes darting back up to meet his. “It’s human nature, after all.”
“I know,” Spencer replied, shaking his head with a chuckle. “But at least pretend to be subtle.”
“You’re quite large,” you teased, unable to resist the opportunity to keep the mood light. “Are you a grower still? Or always a shower?”
Spencer’s cheeks flushed a deep red, his hands instinctively moving to cover himself as he groaned, “Oh my godddd.”
“Answer the question, and I’ll shut up,” you promised, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you looked at him with mock innocence.
With a sigh of resignation, Spencer removed his hands, his expression a mix of bashfulness and humor. “Still a grower,” he admitted, rolling his eyes good-naturedly.
“Lucky me!” you exclaimed, your tone full of playful triumph.
Spencer shook his head, his laughter infectious as he declared, “Not anymore, this was great. Goodbye!” He made a half-hearted attempt to step out of the shower, clearly feigning an exaggerated exit.
“Not so fast!” you interjected, grabbing his arm and pulling him back gently, your own laughter bubbling up as you did so.
His eyes met yours again, and the playful banter settled into something softer, a mutual understanding that transcended words. The silliness of the moment gave way to a quiet intimacy, the kind that came from truly seeing one another and finding joy in simply being together.
As the water continued to rain down, you and Spencer stood there, wrapped in each other’s presence, feeling a sense of comfort and safety that went beyond the physical. 
You both eventually turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, towels wrapped snugly around you. The steam-filled bathroom felt like a private world where the rest of the day’s worries faded away.
Once dried and dressed in cozy clothes, you settled into the living room, the aroma of freshly brewed tea wafting through the air as you curled up on the couch together. The rain had stopped outside, leaving a soft patter of droplets against the windows, the perfect backdrop for a cozy movie night.
Spencer draped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “So, what’s our viewing pleasure tonight?” he asked, his voice filled with a relaxed contentment.
“I was thinking something classic,” you suggested, snuggling into his side. “Maybe a bit of Casablanca?”
“Casablanca, it is,” Spencer agreed, reaching for the remote with a smile.
As the movie played, you found yourself not only immersed in the storyline but also in the warmth of Spencer’s presence beside you. The shared laughter, the gentle teasing, the comfortable silence—it all felt like home.
You don’t remember falling asleep, but when you wake up, you find yourself nestled in the bed, no longer on the couch. The room is softly lit with the early morning sun filtering through the curtains, casting a warm glow over everything. Spencer is still sound asleep next to you, his arms wrapped around you in a protective embrace. His breathing is steady and calm, and you watch him for a moment, feeling a rush of affection for this man who has been so patient and kind through everything.
Wanting to do something kind for him, you slowly and carefully extricate yourself from his embrace, trying not to wake him. You slip out of bed, pulling on his robe as you head to the kitchen to make some coffee, a small gesture of appreciation for the many times he’s been there for you.
As you move about the kitchen, the familiar routine of making coffee brings a sense of comfort. You smile to yourself as you measure out the coffee grounds and water, the rich aroma filling the air. It feels good to be doing something for him, even if it’s just a small gesture.
When Spencer finally wakes up, the smell of freshly brewed coffee lures him from the cocoon of blankets. In his sleep-delirious haze, he doesn’t realize anything has changed, and he instinctively walks into the kitchen, still half-asleep, and wraps his arms around you from behind.
“Morning, Spence,” you say softly, feeling the warmth of his embrace as you continue to stir the coffee.
“Mmm, good morning, baby,” he mumbles into your hair, his voice thick with sleep.
“I made your coffee, just how you like it,” you say with a smile, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the little surprise you’ve prepared for him.
“Black, seven teaspoons of sugar?” he asks, his voice carrying a note of playful suspicion.
“Precisely,” you reply, leaning back to kiss his head where it’s nestled against your neck. You love the way his hair feels soft and slightly tousled from sleep, the familiarity of the moment wrapping around you like a warm embrace.
Spencer hums contentedly, the combination of your affection and the promise of coffee stirring him more fully awake. You hand him a steaming mug, and he takes a grateful sip, savoring the sweet warmth.
“Thought we could call Diana today, check in on her progress,” you suggest casually, remembering the conversations you’ve had about keeping in touch with his mom.
Spencer’s mind is still catching up to the morning, the mention of his mother registering slowly. “Okay, that’s a good id–wait… what?” His eyes widen as he pulls back slightly, looking at you with surprise and hope.
“Diana, babe? Your mom? I haven’t talked to her in a while, and I wanted to see how she was doing,” you say, turning to face him, your own excitement bubbling beneath the surface.
“Y/N, are you messing with me?” Spencer asks, his voice a blend of disbelief and anticipation, as if he’s afraid to hope too much.
“No… Are you okay, Spence?” you ask gently, reaching up to touch his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his skin. 
“Spence? My coffee preference? My mom?” Spencer’s eyes search yours, an array of emotions flickering across his face. “What are you not telling me?”
You smile, unable to contain your excitement any longer. “Oh, I woke up this morning with a few memories of our time together.”
Spencer’s eyes widen, his expression shifting from confusion to pure joy. “You remember?” he asks, voice filled with a hopeful wonder that sends a warm thrill through you.
“Bits and pieces,” you admit, nodding as you set your own coffee down on the counter. “It’s like little snapshots coming back, but they’re there. And you were in them.”
His face lights up with a brilliant smile, the kind that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners and sends warmth flooding through you. “That’s amazing, Y/N,” he says, pulling you into a tight embrace, his arms enveloping you completely.
You melt into his hug, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. It’s a moment of connection and triumph, a small victory in the long journey of reclaiming the life you once shared.
“I’m so happy,” Spencer murmurs, his voice muffled by your hair but no less filled with emotion. “I’ve missed you—every version of you.”
You pull back slightly, meeting his gaze with a smile that mirrors his own. “I’ve missed you too, Spence. I can’t wait to see what else comes back.”
Spencer leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. His touch was a gentle reassurance that you were exactly where you were meant to be, a soothing balm to the uncertainty that had lingered since the accident. The warmth of his lips against your skin sent a wave of comfort through you, a reminder that love was a constant, waiting patiently to be remembered.
“I love you,” Spencer murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with sincerity and a gentle vulnerability. “Can I say that now? Is that okay?”
His eyes searched yours, seeking not just permission but a confirmation that the love you once shared was finding its way back, stronger and more resilient than before.
“Only if it’s okay for me to say I love you too,” you replied, your voice soft but filled with the depth of emotion that had grown in your heart. 
The words were a quiet declaration, an acknowledgment of the bond that had endured through the haze of forgotten memories and the challenges of the past. It was a promise of the future you were eager to explore together, a future built on the foundation of love and understanding.
Spencer’s smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a joy that mirrored your own. “Then it’s more than okay,” he said, his voice warm and full of affection.
You both stood there for a moment, wrapped in the quiet intimacy of the morning, the aroma of coffee mingling with the soft light filtering through the kitchen. It was a simple moment, yet it held the weight of everything you had been through together, a testament to the resilience of love and the power of memory.
“Come here,” Spencer said, pulling you into another embrace, his arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that spoke volumes.
You leaned into him, resting your head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting reminder of the life you were rediscovering together. In that embrace, you found not just comfort but a sense of belonging that had been waiting for you to come home to.
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tag list <333 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite
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diy-dynamite · 15 days ago
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Television Relations
》 2nd part of Television Influence
He sees a familiar face. || Mr. Crawling x GN!Reader
Warnings: spoilers for one of the endings, the reader is an assassin, some mentions of murder
Took inspiration from the members of Homicipher Unofficial (which u should definitely join, btw) (idk if they're ok with shoutouts so I'll just edit it later if they are)
********
SINCE the first day you introduced him to television, you left it on for him every day. It wouldn't do him any harm since he didn't seem to have any eyes, but he could still see bullshit from a mile away.
On one of the days, you checked on him while you tied down your target before he woke up to extract the information your client needed, and all of a sudden, Mr. Crawling blurted out a loud "No!"
You raised your brows in confusion, only to see him smack his hand on the screen lightly. You squinted your eyes, taking a closer look at the screen, and barked out a laugh when you realised he was watching the scene in Titanic where Rose was on a piece of debris salvaged from the ship, while Jack was in the water.
You figured he shouted in frustration. Your laugh awoke your target, though, so you quickly hit him with the blunt of your crowbar on a special part of the head to make him fall asleep again.
That was a normal Sunday for you.
You went back home with another successful mission, jingling your keys and coming home to an expectant Mr. Crawling, happily greeting you once again.
What you didn't expect, however, was that he led you to the living room instead of the kitchen. Normally, he'd take you there to give you a washed, uncut fruit like an apple or grapes, peeking over the table with a smile to see if you liked it. That was his way of trying to feed you since you fed him.
No, that didn't happen. Instead, he took you to the TV and sat you down there.
"Look, look," he pointed at the TV, the language rolling off his ink black tongue. "Friend."
You glanced to the TV and flinched—why the hell were they showing Sadako? That rom-com show was supposed to be on at this time.
"Er, did you switch channels, Mr. Crawling?" You muttered. He didn't respond as you tried to switch off the TV, but it wouldn't work.
"What is?" He pointed at your remote. You pressed at the off button again, but it didn't work. "Uhh, controls thing," you said, pointing at the TV.
"Why?"
"I kill," you heard her say, and you flinched, looking up at the screen, its static getting worse by the second. I never knew they spoke the same language.
Wait.
She's leaving the screen.
You grabbed your crowbar, ready to swing, but Mr. Crawling grabbed your weapon. You yanked it away, the adrenaline causing your hesitance to go away, but you paused once Mr. Crawling leapt to stand—sit—between you and Sadako.
"Friend! Friend!" he chirped, his voice clearly expressing frantic wobbles.
You lowered your weapon.
"Friend," he said again. He turned around and placed his hands on Sadako's head, then shoved her back in.
"No kill," he said. "Me love they."
"You love they?"
"Love they many."
"They love you?"
.
.
.
"Understand. Farewell."
The static behind the TV disappeared, and Sadako only sat in what looked like an empty room or hallway.
You were about to turn off the TV until you saw a tall, white silhouette walk past the screen.
The humanoid man bent down, and your heart nearly exploded at the sight of your old acquaintance, Mr. Silvair.
"Hello!" You exclaimed. The white-haired man smiled. "Hello," he said. "See you again."
He turned his head to Mr. Crawling and waved. "See you again."
Mr. Crawling only stared with his non-existant eyes.
"I bring this one," he pointed at Sadako and pulled her away from the screen.
The TV went black.
"...you're... friends with Sadako."
Mr. Crawling turned around to look at you with a line on his face—the line being his mouth.
You titled your head. "Why upset?"
"They ask. You love me?" He gestured between you and him. He lowered his head, glancing to the side. "You don't say."
You paused before replying, "But I love you. Many."
"But you say to other," he pointed at the black screen. "'Hello'! Fast."
What?
Your confusion was probably obvious since Mr. Crawling continued to explain.
"You don't say when friend ask you love me." His voice only got whinier, and his lips curled downward as he spoke. "You say fast when other came."
"I say hello to friend—" Oh.
He's saying you didn't say anything when Sadako asked if you loved him, and he's also comparing your response with how you spoke to Mr. Silvair.
You paused, and although a knowing smile crept onto your lips, Mr. Crawling's only began to tremble.
That was what made you stop from teasing.
"No, no," you waved your hands at him, dropping the crowbar to kneel in front of him. You took his head in your hands and messed around with his hair, rubbing back and forth. "I love you many! Love you many!"
He perked up, his adorable grin slowly coming back on his face. "Many?"
You nodded. "Many!"
"Kiss," he said.
He even leaned forward, closer to your face.
"Many kiss," he said.
You sighed.
Maybe introducing him to the TV was a bad idea.
********
HOPE U LIKED THIS :3 kinda rushed bc I'm about to sleep again LMAO so mistakes MIGHT be spotted
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stylesispunk · 2 months ago
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Silent Strain | Part iii
Outbreak! Joel Miller x f!reader
previous part | next part
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chapter summary: Joel is afraid of letting you out of his sight and you were afraid of him slipping away.
w.c: 16k> (it was going to be 8k but this happened)
warnings: angst, mentions of panic attack, fluff. no proofreading. Probably some things won't make sense, but I felt pressured and I had to post this chapter.
a/n: hello! Last fic I posted didn't go how I expected but here's another chapter of this series. I hope you like this chapter and PLEASE share your thoughts with me. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
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As the first gloomy light of morning crept through the window, Joel felt like he could finally breathe again. The soft, grey dawn brought with it a sense of calm that the night had cruelly stolen away. He didn’t fear the darkness itself; he'd learned long ago to live within its shadows, but he feared the memories that the darkness brought to him. The loss, the crying, the desperation... and the blood.
The thought of losing another child, and losing you in the process, cracked the rough surface he had been hiding behind for so many years. It was too much; it was too familiar. As much as he tried to stay strong, the fear had gnawed at him, tearing at the fragile walls he had built around his heart.
Your breathing had steadied, though the pain had not fully subsided. He could feel your heartbeat against his chest, uneven but there, steadying his own frantic pulse. He had held you tighter, his own breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps, trying to stay calm for you, for the baby.
After the scare from last night, Joel had held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his face buried in your hair. He whispered softly; words meant to soothe you but also to keep his own panic at bay. "It's okay, darlin'. I'm here. Just breathe. Stay with me…"
The hours had dragged on, and every flicker of discomfort on your face sent a fresh wave of panic through him. He hadn't let himself sleep, afraid that if he closed his eyes, he might wake up to another nightmare.
Now, in the pale morning light, Joel watched you. Your eyes were closed, but your breathing was calm and even, a welcome change from the strained, pained gasps that had filled the room only hours before. He stroked a thumb gently along your arm, his touch feather-light, afraid of disturbing you but needing the contact to ground himself.
Ellie, who had kept a worried vigil nearby, finally stirred awake. She glanced over and saw Joel watching you, the lines of tension still etched into his face.
"Is… is she okay?" Ellie whispered, moving closer, her eyes wide with concern.
Joel nodded slowly, his voice barely a murmur. "Yeah, I think… I don’t know.”
Ellie let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "God, Joel, you looked so scared," she admitted, trying to lighten the mood, though her voice was shaky. "I’ve never seen you like that."
Joel’s lips twitched into a faint, weary smile. "Guess I'm getting soft, huh?"
Ellie leaned against the wall, watching him carefully. "That isn’t bad thing," she muttered, her eyes flicking over to you. “She needs you.”
Joel’s gaze softened, his eyes returning to you, still sleeping peacefully. Then, his gaze went to Ellie’s again.
“Ellie, can you take care of her for a moment?”
Ellie nodded, confused as Joel stood up, walking towards the door without saying a word to her.
Joel's steps were heavy, each one echoing softly in the quiet room. He reached the door and paused for a moment, his hand resting on the rough wood. His shoulders were tense, his head slightly bowed as if wrestling with some invisible weight.
Ellie watched him, frowning. "Joel?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Where are you going?"
He didn't turn around, didn't meet her gaze. "Just… need a minute," he replied, his tone low and strained. "I'll be back soon."
Ellie’s eyes flicked back to you, still resting, and then back to Joel. “She’s gonna wake up and ask for you,” she said, her voice gentle, but firm. "You sure you’re, okay?"
Joel nodded, though his movements were stiff, almost mechanical. "Yeah," he muttered, though he didn’t sound convinced. “I just need some air."
With that, he slipped out the door, the cold morning air rushing in as he opened it. He took a deep breath, feeling the sharp chill hit his lungs, grounding him momentarily. He stepped outside, letting the door close quietly behind him.
He stood there, just outside, his breath visible in the cold air, his mind racing. The panic from the night before still clung to him, like a dark shadow that refused to leave. His hands trembled slightly as he ran them through his hair, trying to calm himself down.
He couldn't shake the image of you in pain, the fear in your eyes, the blood on your hands. It felt like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from, a terrifying reminder of all the things he couldn't control, all the people he couldn't protect.
He closed his eyes, leaning against the wall of the house, his breathing coming in short, uneven bursts. He pressed his hands against his chest, trying to steady his heart, but the memories wouldn't let him rest. Memories of Sarah, of the pain of losing her, of the years spent hardening himself against that same pain.
And now, here he was again, facing the possibility of losing someone he cared about more than he wanted to admit.
"Come on, Joel," she muttered under her breath, killing the silence on Joel’s mind.
“Go back inside” he said.
Ellie jumped slightly at his words, her eyes darting to Joel. She could see the tightness in his shoulders, the tension in his jaw. For a moment, she considered arguing, but something in his voice stopped her. There was a rawness there, a plea she hadn’t heard before.
“Joel…” she started, her voice softer now, more careful.
His eyes flicked to hers, the pain clear, almost palpable. “Ellie, just… go back inside,” he repeated, his tone almost breaking. “Please.”
She hesitated, biting her lip, before nodding “You know it’s not your fault.”
Joel's face tightened at Ellie's words, his jaw clenching as if he was holding back a torrent of emotion. He shook his head, looking away for a moment, his gaze hard and distant, lost in anger and regret.
“I dragged her here,” he muttered, his voice rough and strained. “Knowing her state, knowing what could happen… I should’ve left her behind. Should’ve kept her safe.”
Ellie took a step closer, her own face a mix of frustration and empathy. “But you didn’t,” she argued softly. “Because you knew she’d never forgive you if you did. She wanted to be with you, Joel.”
He looked back at her, his eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing her words. “It doesn’t matter,” he replied, his voice a little louder now, a little more forceful. “I still made the call. I still put her in danger.”
Ellie shook her head. “You’re doing everything you can to protect her. You think she doesn’t know that?” She took another step closer, her tone firmer. “She trusts you, Joel. She believes in you. And… so do I.”
For a moment, Joel’s expression softened, the harsh lines of his face easing slightly. But then he closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath, as if trying to steady himself. “I don’t know if that’s enough, kid,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Ellie sighed, glancing back at the door. “It has to be,” she said. “Because she needs you now more than ever. And you’re the one who’s gonna keep her safe.”
Joel let out a long, shaky breath, his shoulders slumping as if a weight had settled on them. He looked at Ellie, his expression caught between determination and fear. "Yeah… I hope you're right," he murmured, almost to himself.
Ellie reached out, touching his arm gently, a rare moment of softness between them. “Just… don’t beat yourself up too much, alright?” she said, her voice low. “She’s gonna need you to be strong for her. And so am I.”
Joel and Ellie stepped quietly back inside the house, the dim light from the early morning casting long shadows across the walls. Joel's eyes immediately moved to you, lying on the couch, your face still and peaceful in sleep. For a brief moment, he felt a strange calm settle over him, just seeing you safe, resting.
But as if sensing their presence, you began to stir. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, adjusting to the dim light. The ache in your body was still there, a dull throb in your stomach, but the sharp pain had subsided, leaving only a sense of heaviness. You blinked a few times, your gaze settling on Joel and Ellie as they stood by the door, both looking back at you with relief.
“Hey…” you murmured; your voice raspy with sleep. You tried to push yourself up, but Joel was by your side in an instant, his hands gently helping you to sit up. His touch was careful, as if he was afraid you might break.
“Take it easy,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing.
You nodded, wincing slightly as you adjusted yourself. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… I just…” Your voice trailed off, and you swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “I’m okay, really.”
Ellie stepped closer, her eyes wide with concern, but there was a hint of a teasing smile on her lips. “You better be, ‘cause I don’t think I can handle Joel being that freaked out again,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.
You chuckled softly, a weak smile spreading across your face. “Guess I gave you both a bit of a scare, huh?”
Joel’s expression softened, his thumb gently brushing against the back of your hand. “Yeah, you could say that,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
He didn’t meet you gaze, and you know damn well what that meant. You noticed the way his eyes seemed to avoid yours, his gaze fixed on some invisible point in the room. His thumb kept moving over the back of your hand, but there was a tightness in his jaw, a hesitation in his posture that made your heart ache.
“Ellie,” you said softly, turning your head toward her. She paused, halfway through rummaging in the supply bag, her eyes darting between you and Joel. “Could you… give us a minute?”
Ellie hesitated, her gaze lingering on Joel for a moment, and then on you. She seemed to understand that something more needed to be said between the two of you. She nodded slowly, trying to mask her concern with a casual shrug. "Yeah, sure," she muttered, trying to play it cool, even as her curiosity buzzed beneath the surface. “I’ll, uh, go check on the weather or something.”
She grabbed her jacket, slinging it over her shoulders and headed toward the door. “But if I hear any yelling, I’m coming back in,” she added with a small grin, trying to lighten the mood before she slipped out the door, leaving the two of you alone.
The room was suddenly much quieter without Ellie’s presence. The only sounds were the crackling of the dying fire and the distant, muted wind outside. You turned back to Joel, your eyes searching his face. He still wasn’t looking at you, his thumb still moving in that steady rhythm against your hand.
“Joel,” you whispered, trying to draw his gaze back to yours. "Look at me."
He hesitated, his shoulders tense, but finally, he lifted his eyes to meet yours. You could see the conflict there, the worry, the guilt. “What is it?” you asked gently. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
He took a deep breath, his jaw clenching for a moment before he spoke. "I… I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “For all of it. For dragging you out here, for… putting you in danger."
You shook your head, squeezing his hand. “Joel, I made that choice. I knew what I was getting into.”
He shook his head, his eyes dropping again, filled with that familiar guilt. “No… you didn’t. Not really,” he muttered.
You reached up, cupping his cheek with your free hand, forcing him to look at you again. “Joel, stop,” you said firmly, your voice steady. “Nothing is going to happen to us. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”
He closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath. “I’m just… I’m so damn scared,” he confessed, his voice breaking slightly. "Of losing you. Of losing another…"
You felt a lump form in your throat, understanding the weight of his words, the depth of his fear. You leaned closer, pressing your forehead against his, your voice soft.
“Joel, the baby is okay,” you reassured him softly, hoping your words would ease some of the fear you saw in his eyes. "I can feel it."
He shook his head slightly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “How do you know?” he asked, his voice low and rough. There was a tremor in it, a crack that revealed the depth of his concern. “How do you know when we’re out here, and everything’s…” He trailed off, his breath hitching.
You swallowed, trying to find the right words, to offer him some kind of comfort. “I just do,” you whispered, moving closer to him. “I can feel it. Maybe it’s just… a mother’s instinct. But I believe it, Joel. I feel like… this baby is strong.”
Joel's eyes softened at your words, but the fear still lingered there, heavy and ever-present. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to steady himself. His hand moved to rest on your stomach, his palm pressing gently against the swell. He closed his eyes, as if trying to feel what you felt, to believe in what you were saying.
“Strong,” he repeated softly, almost like he was testing the word, trying it out to see if it fit. "I hope so… I really do."
You placed your hand over his, squeezing it lightly. “I know so,” you assured him, your voice unwavering. “I know it’s a little tiny thing but..I feel it.”
He exhaled slowly; his breath warm against your cheek. “I want to believe you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I do."
“Then believe me,” you urged, your thumb brushing against his cheek in a soothing motion. “We’ve made it this far, right? We’re almost there, Joel… we just need to hold on a little longer.”
He nodded, a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah,”
For a moment, the room was silent except for the crackling of the fire and the faint sound of the wind outside. Joel finally met your gaze again, a mix of hope and fear in his eyes. "I’ve lost so much,” he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t… I can’t lose you, too.”
Your heart ached at his words, understanding the depth of his pain. You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, trying to pour all the reassurance you could into that touch. "You won't," you whispered against his mouth. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."
He kissed your back, a little more desperately this time, as if he were afraid you might disappear. You held him close, feeling his body tremble slightly against yours, his breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts.
Ellie pushed the door open, her footsteps echoing in the quiet room. She froze mid-step, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of you and Joel, wrapped in each other's arms, lips just parting from the kiss. Her face scrunched up in mock disgust, and she rolled her eyes dramatically.
“Ugh, seriously?” she groaned, putting her hands on her hips. “If you two wanted to get all mushy, you could’ve at least sent me away or something. Or, I don’t know, given me a warning!”
Joel pulled back, a faint blush creeping up his neck. He coughed, trying to mask the embarrassment with a stern look. “Ellie,” he started, his voice gruff, but she just waved him off.
“No, no, it’s fine," she said with a playful grin, "I mean, I get it… the world’s falling apart, and you’re all about the dramatic declarations of love. But can you keep it PG for the kid in the room?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension of the moment breaking as you met Ellie’s teasing gaze. “Sorry, Ellie,” you chuckled.
She rolled her eyes again but smiled, moving to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. "Yeah, yeah. Just… don't make me an unwilling participant in your cheesy romance, okay?" She paused, glancing between the two of you, her expression softening just a bit. "But… I’m glad you’re both okay.”
Joel shook his head, a small, reluctant smile forming on his lips. "We’re okay, kiddo," he replied softly, his voice still carrying a hint of emotion. "We’re all okay."
Ellie grinned, nudging Joel lightly with her shoulder. “Good,” she muttered, “'Cause I need both of you.”
You and Joel exchanged amused glances, and for a moment, the heaviness in the room seemed to lift, replaced by a sense of warmth and comfort in knowing you were all still together, facing whatever came next.
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Four months had passed since that tense night, and winter had settled in with a cold grip. The once vibrant landscape had transformed into a stark, snowy expanse. You, now seven months pregnant, felt the weight of your journey more than ever, but the quiet strength of Joel and Ellie beside you made the harsh conditions more bearable.
Now seven months pregnant, you felt the weight of it all pressing down on you, not just the baby growing inside, but the miles you had trudged through the wilderness. Your feet ached, your back was sore, and your hands were red and raw from the cold. Yet, the quiet strength of Joel and Ellie beside you made the harsh conditions somehow more bearable. Joel, ever watchful, kept close, his eyes always scanning the horizon for any sign of danger, his presence a constant comfort. Ellie, with her relentless spirit, kept the mood light with her jokes and sarcastic comments, doing her best to distract you from the relentless chill.
The trio of you had walked through miles of frost-covered terrain, the snow crunching beneath your boots. Each step was a reminder of how far you had come and how much further you still had to go. Wyoming was just ahead, a small but significant milestone in your quest for safety and a future.
Joel trudged ahead, his face set in determined lines, but every now and then he would glance back at you, making sure you were okay. He had taken to carrying a small pack with supplies, his concern for you palpable. Ellie, now a bit more grown and experienced, walked close by, occasionally breaking the silence with a joke or a comment, trying to keep your spirits up.
You looked at Joel’s profile, his face partially hid the fear on his bones and despite his gruff exterior, he had become your rock through this tumultuous journey. You had come to rely on his strength and his soft, rare moments of tenderness.
December 1st
“Winter has arrived with a vengeance. The cold is biting, and our progress has slowed. We’re staying in an old barn for the night, huddled together to keep warm. Joel’s been making sure the fire stays lit, while Ellie tries to make the best of our situation.
I can feel the baby kicking more strongly now. It’s a constant reminder of why we’re enduring all of this. Joel’s been more attentive, though still guarded. He’s trying so hard to protect us, and I wish he could see that his presence alone is enough.
The snow makes everything look different. Almost beautiful, in a way that feels wrong given the world we’re living in. We made camp in a small cabin tonight. Joel found some firewood, and Ellie kept herself busy by trying to make soup out of what little we had. She’s worried about me, even though she pretends not to be. I can see it in the way she watches me, like she’s waiting for something to happen. Joel, too, keeps his eyes on me, never letting me stray too far. I think he’s afraid, maybe more than he’ll ever admit.
The baby’s been kicking more. It’s a strange feeling, like little taps from the inside, reminding me that there’s something good in this world. Something worth fighting for.”
The cold wind whipped around you, making it difficult to see very far ahead. Joel motioned for a short break, and you gratefully lowered yourself onto a nearby snow-covered log. Ellie quickly dug out some snacks and hot drinks from her pack, her hands red and numb from the cold.
“Here,” she said, handing you a steaming cup. “This should help warm you up.”
You took the cup gratefully, savoring the warmth as it seeped into your fingers and then your body. “Thanks, Ellie,” you said, smiling. “I don’t know how we’d have made it without you.”
Ellie shrugged; her cheeks flushed from the cold. “Just doing my part,” she said with a wink. “And keeping you guys from going completely crazy.”
Joel joined you, taking a seat beside you and offering you a small piece of dried fruit. “We’re almost there,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Just a bit further, and we’ll be in Wyoming.”
You nodded, taking comfort in his words. “I know,” you replied. “It’s just... sometimes it feels like it’s never going to end.”
Joel’s hand reached out, gently resting on your knee for a few minutes to provide the comfort he knew you needed.
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As you made your way through the snow-covered terrain, the excitement of nearing Wyoming provided a much-needed boost. Joel’s usual calm demeanor had been unwavering through most of the journey, but today, there was an underlying tension in his movements that you and Ellie didn’t immediately notice.
Joel’s breaths were more rapid and shallow, though he tried to mask it behind a determined facade. He kept a firm grip on his pack and occasionally glanced around with a slightly strained look. His face, though mostly hidden by his scarf, betrayed signs of an inner struggle that he wasn’t quite ready to share.
Ellie’s voice broke the silence, sharp and unfiltered as always.
"Are you dying?" she asked, half-joking but with an edge of genuine concern. She was walking beside you, her eyes narrowed at Joel, who hadn’t slowed his pace despite the obvious tension in his movements.
Joel grunted, his response delayed as he adjusted the pack on his shoulder. "No," he said curtly, his breath coming out in visible puffs in the cold air. "I’m fine."
"You don’t look fine," Ellie pressed, glancing at you as if seeking backup. "You’re all... sweaty and weird."
You frowned, watching Joel carefully now. Ellie wasn’t wrong—there was something off about him today. The way his shoulders hunched, his steps just a bit too heavy, like he was pushing through something. He had been quiet, more so than usual, and you could sense the strain behind his eyes whenever he glanced back at you.
"Joel?" you asked, your voice softer than Ellie’s but carrying the same concern. "What’s going on?"
He slowed his steps, finally stopping to catch his breath. His hand went to his side, rubbing it briefly before he straightened up, avoiding eye contact. "It’s nothin’," he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual strength. "Just... pushin' too hard today. We’re close, is all. No time to slow down."
Ellie crossed her arms, her eyes flicking between you and Joel with a skeptical look. "Right," she said, not convinced. "You’re not dying, but you’re also... not dying?"
Joel shot her a look that could’ve silenced most people, but not Ellie. "I said I’m fine."
You stepped closer to him, concern outweighing your hesitation. "Joel, you need to tell us if something’s wrong. You can’t carry this all by yourself."
He exhaled through his nose, the stubbornness etched in his expression softening for just a moment. "I’ll be alright," he said, though now his voice was quieter, less defensive. "Just... need a minute. We’ll keep movin’ after that."
Ellie threw her hands up. "Well, that’s reassuring," she muttered, but you could tell the worry hadn’t left her eyes.
You stayed close to Joel, watching him as he tried to steady his breathing, his hands resting on his knees for support. The tension that had been building inside you all day finally surfaced, the reality of how much you were relying on him pressing down on you. But even now, as he struggled, he was still trying to protect you both.
Joel glanced up at you, catching your gaze, and for a brief second, his walls dropped. There it was—the vulnerability he was so good at hiding, but not today. Not from you.
“I want to rest for a bit” you said, placing your hand over your swollen belly. You needed the rest, but you also wanted to force Joel to slow down a bit.
Joel’s eyes flicked down to your hand resting on your belly, then back up to meet your gaze. His expression softened, the usual stubborn resistance he wore melting away for a moment. He sighed, clearly torn between pushing forward and giving in to the obvious need for a break. You could see the struggle in him—the need to keep going, to get you all to safety—but he couldn’t deny the toll it was taking on both of you.
"Yeah, alright," he muttered, standing upright and scanning the area. "We’ll rest."
Ellie, who had been quietly watching the exchange, gave a slight huff of relief. "Finally," she said, throwing her pack down onto the snow and plopping down next to it. She stretched her legs out in front of her, rubbing her hands together for warmth. "You both needed this."
You nodded, grateful for the pause, though your focus remained on Joel. He had been pushing himself too hard, and the weight of that knowledge gnawed at you. It wasn’t just about the miles or the cold—it was the responsibility, the fear of what would happen if he couldn’t protect you both. You were carrying a life inside of you, and while you knew Joel would never admit it, that added an extra layer of pressure on him.
Joel knelt down beside you, his eyes still scanning the landscape as though danger could appear at any moment. "We won’t stay long," he said, his voice low. "Just enough time to catch our breath."
But it wasn’t true.
As night wore in, Joel had begun gathering wood for a fire, his movements stiff from the weight he carried, not just the physical strain but the burden of keeping you all safe. You watched him silently, your breath visible in the cold night air, as he crouched near a small clearing, arranging the branches and kindling with expert precision. The flicker of the firelight cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw.
Ellie sat nearby, uncharacteristically quiet, watching Joel with a mixture of curiosity and concern. She hugged her knees to her chest, her usual stream of sarcastic comments absent for now. The cold seemed to have silenced her usual banter, or maybe she was just tired, like the rest of you.
Joel caught your gaze from across the fire, his eyes locking onto yours for just a moment longer than usual. He was tired—so tired. But he wouldn’t say it. He wouldn’t admit that he needed to rest just as much as the rest of you, if not more. His protectiveness ran so deep, it was like a force of nature, driving him even when his body begged for relief.
"You should sleep," he muttered, breaking the silence, his voice rough but soft. "I’ll keep watch."
"You need to rest too, Joel," you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper over the crackling fire. "You can’t keep pushing yourself like this."
He didn’t respond right away, his eyes flickering to the flames as if avoiding the truth of what you were saying. Ellie, sensing the tension, chimed in from her spot by the fire.
"Yeah, seriously, man. You’ve been on ‘protector mode’ for hours now. You’re not a machine, you know."
Joel grunted, his usual response when he didn’t want to argue but also didn’t want to agree. He poked at the fire with a stick, the sparks floating up into the dark sky. "I’m fine," he said again, the same phrase he’d been using all day, but it sounded weaker now. Less convincing.
You leaned back against the cave wall, watching him through the flickering light. He was still trying to protect you, still carrying the weight of all your lives on his shoulders. But you could see it wearing on him, the exhaustion, the fear he wouldn’t admit to, the responsibility that felt crushing.
"Joel," you said quietly, "we’re not going to make it if you don’t take care of yourself too.
His eyes snapped to yours again, something unreadable passing through them. For a moment, you thought he might argue, might tell you once again that he was fine. But then he sighed, the sound heavy with everything he wasn’t saying.
"I’ll rest when you two are safe," he said, his voice rough and tired, like he was trying to hold back the weight of the world. "I promise."
Ellie threw a stick into the fire, watching it crackle with an unimpressed look. "Great. So, we’re just supposed to wait until you collapse?"
Joel shot her a look, but it lacked its usual sharpness. You could see that even he was starting to acknowledge the truth.
And just when he was about to say something, you moved uncomfortable. 
Before Joel could respond to Ellie’s sharp comment, you shifted in your spot, a small grimace passing over your face as the baby kicked again. This time, it was stronger, more insistent, and the discomfort rippled through you unexpectedly. You instinctively placed a hand over your belly, your breath catching as the sensation overwhelmed you.
Both Joel and Ellie immediately noticed the change in your posture. Joel's eyes widened, all traces of exhaustion vanishing in an instant as he leaned closer, his expression full of concern.
“What is it?” His voice was tight, his protective instincts kicking in instantly. “Are you alright?”
You nodded, though the tension in your face said otherwise. “I’m fine… it’s just… the baby’s kicking. It’s strong.”
Ellie scooted over, her eyes wide with curiosity and a mix of awe. “Whoa, really?” she asked, her usual snark replaced by genuine interest. “Can I feel?”
You smiled, despite the ache, and gestured for Ellie to come closer. She tentatively reached out, her small hand resting on your belly. A few moments passed, and then the baby kicked again, more pronounced this time. Ellie’s face lit up, her eyes going wide with amazement.
“That’s wild,” she breathed. “It’s like… a real person in there, huh?”
Joel remained still, his expression a mixture of hesitation and uncertainty. His eyes flickered from your face to your belly, where Ellie’s hand still rested, her excitement palpable. But Joel… his gaze was distant, conflicted, as though something heavy was weighing on his mind.
You watched him for a moment, noticing the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched like he was fighting something deep within. He had been so protective of you and the baby, yet now, there was this hesitation that hadn’t been there before. Like the reality of it all was finally sinking in, and it scared him in a way he hadn’t expected.
Your heart softened at the sight of him—this man who had carried so much weight on his shoulders, trying to keep all of you safe. And now, with the baby growing inside you, it seemed like the responsibility was becoming even more overwhelming for him.
Without saying a word, you reached for Joel’s hand, gently pulling it toward your belly. He resisted at first, his eyes meeting yours with an uncertain look. But you smiled, reassuring him, and after a beat, he let you guide his hand to rest over where the baby had just kicked.
For a moment, the world seemed to stop. His hand, warm and rough, pressed against your belly, and then the baby kicked again—strong and insistent, like it was reminding him of its presence. Joel’s breath hitched, and his eyes widened in surprise. You could see the emotions flashing across his face—fear, wonder, maybe even hope—but he didn’t pull away.
He swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. “That’s… that’s the baby,” he said, his tone filled with awe, like he couldn’t quite believe it was real.
You nodded, your hand still resting on top of his, offering comfort. “Yeah, Joel. That’s our baby.”
For a moment, Joel just stared at your belly, his hand still pressed against you. Then, slowly, his walls started to crumble. His shoulders slumped, and he let out a shaky breath, the tension that had been building inside him for days finally releasing.
As you watched Ellie marvel at the sensation of the baby kicking, you couldn’t help but notice Joel’s face. His eyes, though focused on your belly, were distant, clouded with thoughts you knew all too well. His silence spoke louder than any words could, and you could see the weight of it pressing down on him, the same doubts and fears he always tried to hide. But this time, there was no hiding.
Without thinking, you gently placed your hand over Ellie’s, signaling for her to stop. "Hey, El… let’s give the baby a little break," you said, your voice soft but firm.
Ellie looked up at you, confused for a second, before pulling her hand back and sitting up straight. She shrugged nonchalantly, though her eyes lingered on your belly, clearly still amazed. “Yeah, sure. That was pretty cool though,” she muttered, leaning back and poking the fire with another stick.
But your attention wasn’t on Ellie anymore. It was on Joel. His hand was still resting on your belly, and he hadn’t moved. You could see the tension in his face, the way he was trying to hold it together for both of you. He needed to rest, to let himself break for just a moment, but you knew how hard that was for him. How much he felt like everything was on his shoulders.
"Joel," you said quietly, almost more gently than you intended. His name felt different on your tongue, like it wasn’t really you speaking.
He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still locked on your belly. You took his hand and slowly lifted it away, placing it in his lap. He blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, and finally looked at you. The weariness in his face was undeniable now, and you could see the cracks in the facade he always tried so hard to keep in place.
“You need to rest,” you said, your voice soft but firm, with an edge that wasn’t quite your usual tone. It was more insistent, more like a command than a request. You weren’t just asking him to take a break—you were telling him.
Joel’s brows furrowed, his lips parting slightly as if to protest, but you cut him off before he could speak.
“I mean it,” you added, surprising even yourself with the intensity of your words. “You’re not going to help anyone if you collapse, Joel. We can’t keep going like this.”
His mouth closed, his eyes searching your face as if trying to figure out what to say, how to argue with you without pushing too hard. But he couldn’t. Not this time. Not with the way you were looking at him, with that mix of worry and determination that left no room for debate.
Ellie, sensing the shift in tone, stayed quiet, glancing between the two of you. For once, she didn’t throw in a sarcastic comment. She just waited, watching the fire crackle and listening to the tension settle around you.
Joel let out a long breath, his shoulders sagging as the fight drained out of him. He nodded, though it seemed reluctant, like he still couldn’t fully let go of the idea that he had to be the one holding it all together.
“Alright,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “Just for a bit.”
You exhaled, relieved, but you still held his gaze, making sure he understood. “It’s not just for us, Joel. It’s for you too. You need this.”
He nodded again, and this time, it seemed a little more genuine. “Yeah… I know,” he whispered, his voice raw with exhaustion.
Ellie glanced up, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Finally,” she muttered under her breath, though there was no bite in her words this time.
As Joel shifted to find a more comfortable position, he laid his head against your lap, his face pressing gently against your belly. The closeness of him, the warmth of his body leaning into yours, made something inside you tighten—an emotion you couldn’t quite name but one you understood all too well. His breaths slowed as the exhaustion finally caught up to him, his body surrendering to the rest he so desperately needed.
Your hand moved on its own, fingers threading through his hair, then brushing down to caress the rough stubble on his face. The small gesture felt both intimate and protective, like you were guarding him for once, in the only way you could. His face softened in his sleep, the tension that had etched itself into his features over the last few days easing away.
Ellie, watching the scene unfold, stifled a quiet chuckle. "Well, that’s a sight," she whispered, shaking her head with a faint smile. “Didn’t think I’d ever see Joel like this.”
You gave her a soft, knowing smile, your hand never leaving Joel’s face. “Yeah, me neither,” you whispered back. The fire crackled between you, casting soft shadows on the cave walls. For the first time in what felt like forever, it was you and Ellie staying awake, the weight of the night’s silence shared between the two of you instead of Joel.
Ellie stretched out her legs, staring into the flames. “So... how’s it feel?” she asked, her voice low as if she didn’t want to disturb Joel. “Y’know, the baby. It’s kinda crazy to think that in the middle of all this... you’re growing a person.”
You let out a quiet laugh, glancing down at Joel’s sleeping form, then at your belly. “Yeah... it’s crazy,” you admitted, your voice soft but filled with a quiet wonder. “But it feels... right, somehow. Like maybe this is the one good thing left in the world.”
Ellie nodded thoughtfully; her gaze still locked on the fire. “Guess we all need something good to fight for.”
Silence settled over you both, the crackling of the fire the only sound as the night stretched on. The cave was cold, but there was a warmth in this moment, a quiet bond growing between you and Ellie as Joel slept soundly against you.
For the first time in a long time, it felt like you had a moment to breathe and be still. And in that stillness, with Joel safe and Ellie by your side, you allowed yourself to hope, just for a little while, that maybe everything would be okay.
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December 10th
We made it to Jackson today. It’s hard to believe after everything, but we’re finally here. We’re safe… but something doesn’t feel right.
Tommy was so happy to see us. To see Joel. I saw it in his eyes, the relief of having his brother back. And when he looked at my belly, he was surprised, of course, but happy. Even Maria, his wife is pregnant too. She seemed genuinely excited for us, for what this means. But Joel... Joel didn’t react the way I thought he would.
I’ve seen him handle danger, grief, and loss; nothing seemed to break him. But today, when Tommy told the news when Maria shared her news, I could see something change in Joel. He didn’t smile, didn’t share in the moment like I hoped he would. Instead, he shut down. And it hurts. It hurts to think that maybe he’s not ready for this, for us. Maybe he’s scared, maybe it’s just too much. I don’t know, but it’s like I’m carrying this alone.
I’m scared too. But I want this baby. I want us to be a family. And I thought… I thought Joel did too.
He’s with Tommy now, catching up after a long time or at least pretending to. I can feel something shifted, the distance between us growing, even though we’re finally somewhere safe. What if Jackson doesn’t fix this? What if the problem isn’t out there, but here between us?
You set the pen down and closed the journal, feeling the weight of the words settling into your heart. You glanced over at the new clothes Maria had left for you in the bed.
As you dressed in the clean, comfortable clothes Maria had left, the familiar weight of worry crept back in. The thoughts of the QZ and everything you’d been through tugged at the edges of your mind, but you pushed them aside, determined to move forward and focus on this new chapter in Jackson. This was supposed to be a fresh start. You were determined to make it feel that way.
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The cold air outside hit you as you stepped out of the house, but it was fresh, invigorating. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself and began walking through the quiet streets of Jackson, hoping that a bit of solitude would clear your head. But as you passed by one of the larger buildings in the town, you heard voices, low but familiar.
Joel and Tommy were inside.
You hesitated by the window, not meaning to eavesdrop, but you couldn’t help yourself. The tension in Joel had been building all day, and Tommy’s words floated out into the cold air.
“I thought you’d be happy for me, Joel,” Tommy said, his voice carrying a mix of frustration and concern. “I’m going to be a father. Can you believe that? I thought—hell, I thought you’d understand more than anyone.”
There was a long pause before Joel responded, and you could practically feel the weight of what was about to come.
“I don’t know if I want to be a father again,” Joel said, his voice low, almost too quiet to hear. It wasn’t a confession so much as an admission, like it was something he hadn’t even allowed himself to think about until now. “Tommy… it’s different this time.”
“You’ve got someone, Joel. She’s—she’s carrying your kid. That’s not something you just walk away from,” Tommy replied, clearly trying to keep his patience. “You don’t get to be scared and check out now. That’s not you. At least, that’s not the brother I know.”
“I know that,” Joel said, but there was a tremor in his voice that betrayed him. “But I’ve been through this before. And it didn’t end well. What if I can’t do it again? What if I can’t protect them?”
Tommy’s voice softened. “You’re not the same man you were back then. And you’ve got people now. You’re not alone in this, Joel. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”
Another silence followed, and you found yourself holding your breath, waiting for Joel to say something—anything—that would give you an idea of what he was feeling. But when he spoke again, his voice was strained, full of conflict.
“I want to be there for them. I do. But I don’t know how to be a father anymore. After Sarah... it feels like too much.”
Hearing him say her name, his late daughter, hit you like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t heard Joel talk about Sarah much, but you knew how deeply her loss had affected him. The silence that followed was thick with emotion, as if Tommy was waiting for his brother to find the words he was searching for.
“Then learn, Joel,” Tommy finally said, his tone soft but firm. “You can still be a father. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be you trying.”
You could hear the clink of glasses as Tommy poured them both a drink. Joel didn’t respond right away, and you took that as your cue to move away from the window, giving them the space they needed.
As you walked away from the window, your thoughts swirling with everything you’d just overheard, you almost didn’t notice Maria approaching from down the street. Her footsteps were quiet on the dirt path, and by the time you spotted her, she was already close enough to call your name.
“Hey,” Maria greeted softly, her eyes warm but cautious. She seemed to sense the heaviness on your shoulders. “I was just coming by to check on you. How’re you settling in?”
You managed a small smile, though the weight of what you’d overheard lingered in your chest. “It’s... good. It’s a lot to take in, but it’s good here.”
Maria studied your face for a moment, as if she could see the mix of emotions brewing beneath the surface. She gave a small nod, choosing not to press. Instead, she shifted the conversation to something else. “I wanted to let you know, we’ve got an ultrasound machine here in town. It’s old, but it works. If you want, we could take a look at the baby, make sure everything’s okay.”
Her offer took you by surprise, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. The thought of seeing the baby—of actually hearing its heartbeat, seeing it move—was both exciting and terrifying. You hadn’t had the chance for anything like this since leaving the QZ, and the opportunity stirred a mixture of emotions you hadn’t quite prepared for.
“I… I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down at your belly.
Maria smiled gently, her understanding clear. “I get it. It can be overwhelming, especially with everything you’ve been through. But maybe it’ll help. You were out there for so long, it wouldn’t be bad give it a check.
You hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Yeah, maybe. I think I’d like that.”
“Good,” Maria said, her smile growing. “Okay, let’s go”
“What now?” you asked, surprised and afraid, there was a strange feeling on your heart at the thought of seeing your baby for the first time.
Maria chuckled softly, sensing your hesitation. “No time like the present,” she said, her voice calm and reassuring. “I know it’s a lot, but you’ve been through worse. This is something good, something for you. And for the baby.”
You felt a flutter of nerves as the reality of it hit you—the idea of seeing the baby, confirming its presence in a way that was more than just kicks and feelings. It was a lot to take in, and your heart raced at the thought.
“But... what if something’s wrong?” you blurted out, your voice quieter than you intended. It was a fear you hadn’t allowed yourself to voice until now, but it was there, gnawing at the back of your mind.
Maria’s expression softened even more. “That’s exactly why we check. If something’s wrong, we’ll know, and we’ll take care of it. But listen, you’ve come this far. You’re strong, and so is your baby.” She placed a gentle hand on your arm, grounding you. “You’re not alone anymore, okay?”
Her words gave you a sense of comfort you hadn’t realized you needed. You took a deep breath and nodded, more firmly this time. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
Maria smiled again, “Do you want to find Joel first?” she asked
But you thought about his words, and said no.
You shook your head, the memory of Joel's hesitant confession weighing on your mind. "No," you said quietly, but with conviction. "Not right now."
Maria studied your face for a moment, her expression thoughtful but understanding. She didn’t push, simply nodded. "Alright," she said gently. "This is your moment, then. Just you and the baby."
You appreciated her respect for your choice. As much as you wanted Joel to be there, to share this experience with you, part of you knew he wasn’t ready. He needed time to sort through his own fears, and you needed this moment to yourself, to connect with the life growing inside you without the burden of anyone else's emotions.
“Let’s go,” you said, your voice firmer now, a strange mix of nerves and excitement bubbling up inside you.
Maria led the way back toward the clinic, with Ellie joining you both, the air cool and crisp as you walked through the quiet streets of Jackson. Inside, the warmth of the room wrapped around you, soothing some of your tension. As you lay back on the table, ready to see your baby for the first time, you felt a flicker of hope, a hope that despite everything, you and this little life inside you could make it.
The door creaked open, and the doctor stepped in. He was tall, with tousled brown hair and kind eyes that immediately locked onto yours. There was a brief pause as he stood in the doorway, his expression shifting from professionalism to something softer, almost as if he were momentarily caught off guard.
"Hi, I’m Dr. Paul..." he trailed off, his gaze lingering on you just a second too long before he quickly composed himself, stepping further into the room. "Paul Mesner," he added, clearing his throat, his tone now more formal, though there was a warmth in it that you couldn’t quite place.
You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, unsure of the sudden tension that filled the small room. It wasn’t overwhelming, but you could feel something shift in the air, as though Paul had felt something the moment he laid eyes on you.
Maria, standing by your side, glanced between the two of you, raising an eyebrow but choosing not to comment.
As you lay back on the examination table, the soft hum of the ultrasound machine filled the room. Maria stood nearby, and Ellie sat on a chair in the corner, her legs bouncing restlessly. Paul prepared the equipment, his movements efficient but gentle.
Ellie glanced around nervously, trying to act cool, but you could see the curiosity and excitement in her eyes. “So… this is where we get to see the little peanut?” she asked, her voice trying to mask her eagerness.
You smiled at her, feeling a sense of comfort that she was here. “Yeah, Ellie. This is where we’ll see the baby.”
When Paul applied the gel to your belly, Ellie’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t say anything, her attention fully focused on the screen. As the image flickered to life, the small form of the baby appeared, its heartbeat strong and steady. The room seemed to hold its breath.
He guided you through the process, explaining each step, though his voice was gentle, almost reverent. As the cold gel touched your skin and the machine came to life, Paul’s eyes never strayed far from yours. When he finally looked at the screen, the image of your baby appeared, and so it’s heart beating that filled the silence of the room.
“There it is,” Paul said softly, the awe clear in his voice. He glanced at you with that same warmth, but your focus was entirely on the screen. But when he looked at you again, there was something undeniably personal in his eyes, like you were the only person in the room.
Ellie leaned forward; her face lit up with wonder. “Holy shit… that’s… that’s the baby?”
You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away from the tiny form. “Yeah, that’s the baby.”
Ellie’s gaze flickered from the screen to you, then back again. “That’s… insane. It’s real,” she whispered, her usual bravado melting away in the face of something she couldn’t joke about.
Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at the tiny image on the screen, tears welling in your eyes.
As you stared at the tiny, flickering heartbeat on the screen, a rush of emotions overwhelmed you. Tears blurred your vision, but you couldn’t look away from the image. It was real—your baby, alive and growing inside of you. The room was quiet, except for the steady thrum of the baby’s heartbeat echoing in the air, a soft, rhythmic reminder that you were carrying a new life.
“Ellie,” you whispered, looking at her, “you’re going to be part of this too. You’re family.”
Ellie blinked, clearly moved by your words, though she quickly masked it with a grin. “Thank you” she said, smiling down at you.
Paul’s gentle voice brought you back, and when you glanced up at him, he was still looking at you, his eyes filled with something more than just professional care. It was warmth, empathy... maybe something else.
"You’re doing really well," he said again, his voice barely above a whisper, as though he didn’t want to break the delicate atmosphere of the moment.
You smiled weakly, feeling the tears spill over, but you quickly wiped them away. "I wasn’t sure what to expect," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "But hearing the heartbeat... it’s incredible."
Paul nodded, his gaze still steady on you, his expression soft. "It’s a moment that changes everything," he said, his voice full of sincerity. "You’ll remember this for the rest of your life."
His words settled over you like a blanket of reassurance, and for the first time since you had arrived in Jackson, you felt a small sense of peace. There was still so much uncertainty ahead, but in this moment, everything felt possible.
Maria, who had been standing quietly off to the side, finally broke the silence. "It’s beautiful, isn’t it?" she said, her voice filled with genuine warmth. She walked over to you and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You’ve been through so much, but you’re going to be okay here."
You nodded, grateful for the support. But your thoughts drifted back to Joel, to the conversation you had overheard between him and Tommy. You couldn’t help but wonder how he would react when he saw this—when he heard the heartbeat and realized what was truly at stake.
But for now, you allowed yourself to just be in the moment, surrounded by the quiet reassurance of Maria’s words and Paul’s steady presence.
"Thank you," you whispered, meeting Paul’s eyes again.
He smiled, the corners of his mouth tugging upward just slightly. "Anytime," he said softly, and for a moment, it felt like he wasn’t just talking about the ultrasound.
As you, Ellie and Maria gathered your things and prepared to leave the small room, you felt Paul’s eyes lingering on you, even as you reached for the door. His gaze was soft, but intense, as if he couldn’t tear himself away. It left a strange flutter in your chest, a mix of emotions you weren’t ready to unpack.
“Thanks, Paul” you said, honestly, smiling at him.
Maria, standing by your side, must have noticed too. When you touched the door handle, ready to step out, she placed a gentle hand on your arm. “Wait for me outside,” she said, her voice calm but firm.
You hesitated, glancing between her and Paul, but then nodded, stepping out into the cool air of the hallway. As the door clicked shut behind you, a strange tension filled the room you had just left.
Inside, Maria turned to Paul, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. His gaze had been a little too fixated on you, and Maria’s protective instincts kicked in immediately.
"Paul," she began, her voice quiet but filled with a clear warning. "Don’t ever think about it."
Paul blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Maria took a step closer, her expression hardening. "I saw the way you were looking at her. But you need to understand something—she’s not here alone. The baby’s father is here in Jackson."
Paul’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, though he quickly tried to mask it. "I wasn’t—" he started, but Maria cut him off.
"Tommy’s brother," she said, her voice low and steady. "That’s the father. And trust me, you don’t want to get involved in that kind of situation."
Paul looked taken aback, the realization sinking in. He glanced down, his expression shifting as the weight of her words hit him. "I didn’t mean any disrespect, Maria," he said quietly, his tone more subdued now. "I just—"
"I know you didn’t," she replied, softening just a bit. "But I’m telling you now, for your own sake. Stay professional. Keep it that way."
Paul nodded, the intensity in his gaze dimming, replaced by something more resigned. "Understood," he muttered, his voice low.
Maria gave him a long, measured look before turning to leave. As she opened the door, she glanced back one last time, as if to reinforce her message. Then, without another word, she stepped outside to join you.
You and Ellie were waiting just outside, leaning against the wall, lost in thought. When Maria emerged, she gave you a small, reassuring smile.
"Ready to head back?" she asked, her tone light, as if the conversation inside had never happened.
You nodded, pushing yourself off the wall.
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The makeshift theater was packed with people from the community, the flickering light from the old projector casting shadows on the walls. It felt surreal, sitting there with everyone, watching a movie like things were normal. For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to sink into that illusion—into the laughter, the shared smiles, the warmth of the crowd around you.
But then you saw Joel, after missing him for the whole day.
He was sitting a few rows ahead, his posture tense, eyes focused on the screen but not really watching. You’d been keeping an eye on him ever since you got there, sensing the turmoil still brewing beneath the surface. As the movie played on, Joel stood quietly and slipped out of the room, unnoticed by most. Except for you.
Something stirred in your chest, a familiar pull that you couldn’t ignore. You glanced around, checking if anyone else noticed, but everyone was still absorbed in the film. Quietly, you stood and followed him out, slipping through the door into the cold night air.
The streets of Jackson were quiet, the sound of the movie muffled behind you as you walked. You could see Joel ahead, his figure silhouetted against the dim streetlights. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his steps slow, like he wasn’t sure where he was going, just that he needed to get away.
“Joel,” you called softly, your voice breaking the silence.
He stopped but didn’t turn around immediately. You quickened your pace, coming up beside him. When you reached him, he finally looked at you, his expression a mix of exhaustion and something deeper—something you couldn’t quite place.
"You okay?" you asked gently, though you already knew the answer.
Joel let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping as if the weight he’d been carrying all night had become too much. "Just needed some air," he muttered, his voice rough, but not unkind.
You fell into step beside him, walking in silence for a while, letting the quiet between you settle. You knew Joel wasn’t one to open up easily, and you didn’t want to push him. But you couldn’t just leave him to his thoughts, not when you knew he was struggling.
"Talk to me, Joel," you said softly. "What’s going on?"
He was silent for a moment, his jaw tightening as he tried to find the right words. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know if I can do this."
Your heart tightened at his words. "Do what?"
"All of it," he said, his voice strained. "Being here... with you, the baby. It feels like I’m tryin’ to fit into somethin’ I don’t deserve. I don’t know how to be this person anymore."
You stopped walking, turning to face him, the moonlight casting shadows across his face. "Joel, you don’t have to have it all figured out. None of us do."
He shook his head, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I want to be there for you, for the baby, but I don’t know if I can protect you. I’m scared I’ll fail again."
The mention of his past failures cut deep, and you could see the ghosts of his memories haunting him. Sarah. The QZ. Every person he couldn’t save.
"You won’t fail," you said firmly, stepping closer, placing a hand on his arm. “I saw the baby today” you said with a tiny smile appearing.
His eyes flickered up to meet yours, a hint of surprise breaking through the heaviness that surrounded him. "What do you mean, you saw the baby?" he asked, the tension in his voice softening just a fraction.
You took a breath, feeling warmth spread through you at the memory. "Maria took me for an ultrasound. It was… incredible. I felt the heartbeat, Joel. It’s real. There’s a little life in there."
A mixture of emotions crossed his face, curiosity, wonder, and a flicker of fear. "And? What was it like?"
You smiled wider now, unable to contain the joy bubbling within you. "It was amazing. The little form on the screen, just... there. It made everything feel more possible, like maybe we really could do this."
For a moment, Joel’s expression softened, and you could see the flicker of hope behind his eyes. "That’s… good," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, almost as if he was afraid to believe it.
"It is," you reassured him, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between you. "And you’re going to be a part of that, Joel. You’re not just the protector; you’ll be a father. And I know it’s scary, but it’s also something to live for."
He looked down, his brow furrowing as he processed your words. "You really think so?"
"I know so," you said, reaching up to cup his face again, letting your thumb brush gently across his cheek. "You’re already so protective of us, and that matters more than you realize. You’ll figure it out as we go along."
As you stood there, the world around you faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in that intimate moment. Something in Joel shifted, the walls he had built around his heart starting to crumble. You could see the conflict within him, fear battling against a yearning to embrace this new reality.
With a gentle tug on his shirt, you pulled him closer, your heart racing in anticipation. "Trust me," you whispered, your eyes locking onto his.
And then, without overthinking it, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his. The kiss was tentative at first, a mingling of uncertainty and hope. But as he responded, deepening the kiss, you felt a wave of warmth wash over you, as if the two of you were forging a new bond amidst the chaos.
His hands found your waist, holding you close, and for those brief moments, it felt like everything else faded away, your fears, the weight of the past, the uncertain future. It was just you and him, sharing something genuine and profound.
When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you breathing heavily, the world outside momentarily forgotten. The flicker of fear in his eyes had shifted to something softer, more determined.
"You really mean it," he said, his voice rough but filled with newfound conviction.
"I do," you replied, smiling up at him. "We’re in this together, Joel. No matter what."
He nodded, a faint smile breaking through the weight he had been carrying.
As the warmth of the moment lingered, Joel’s hands moved gently to your belly, resting there as if he were trying to connect with the little life growing inside you. His expression softened, and a protective instinct shone in his eyes.
“Get some rest,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “You’ve been through a lot today. We both have.”
You nodded, appreciating the concern in his tone. “I will. But I want you to come back soon, okay?”
A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I will. Just need a minute to clear my head.”
With a lingering touch, he pulled his hands away, and you felt a strange mix of warmth and longing as he stepped back. “I’ll see you in a bit,” he promised, his gaze still fixed on you, as if he were memorizing every detail.
You turned, feeling lighter, ready to head back inside and allow yourself the rest you needed. As you walked away, you glanced over your shoulder one last time, catching his eye. The connection between you remained palpable, and you knew that this was just the beginning of something profound.
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As you stepped back into the house, the warmth hit you immediately, chasing away the cool night air. Ellie was sprawled on the couch, flipping through a book she'd found earlier, her legs crossed as she absentmindedly skimmed the pages.
She looked up as you entered, her face softening into a lopsided grin. "You okay?" she asked, her tone casual, but you could hear the concern behind it.
You nodded, sitting down beside her. "Yeah. Just needed to talk with Joel for a bit."
Ellie studied your face, her eyes sharp. "And? Everything good?"
You smiled gently, trying to reassure her. "It will be. We’re figuring things out, one step at a time." You hesitated for a moment before continuing, "You know, we could be a family here. You, me, Joel… and the baby."
Ellie blinked, her usual tough exterior cracking just a bit. She let out a breath, leaning back against the couch. "A family, huh?" she muttered, her voice almost too soft for her usual snark. "Never really had one of those."
"You do now," you said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It’s not perfect. None of this is. But we’re all in this together."
Ellie let the words sink in, her eyes drifting toward the window as if trying to imagine what a life here could be. "Guess I could stick around," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Teach the kid how to shoot and stuff."
You chuckled softly.
+++++++++++++
Meanwhile, on the other side of the community, Joel sat at the bar with Tommy, the weight of his emotions too much to bear any longer. He stared down at the whiskey in his hand, his knuckles white from gripping the glass too hard.
"Tommy…" Joel’s voice was low, broken, as if the words were being pulled from some deep, hidden place. "I need you to do something for me."
Tommy frowned, concern flickering across his face. "What is it?"
Joel swallowed hard; his throat tight. His eyes were red, the strain of the day finally catching up with him. "I need you to take Ellie to the Fireflies."
Tommy blinked; his confusion clear. "What? Joel, -“
"She’s immune” Joel cut him off, his voice cracking as tears welled up in his eyes. "But I can’t do it I can’t take her.  I don’t have the heart to leave my woman behind.”
Tommy’s gaze softened, understanding dawning on him. "You mean…"
"She’s pregnant, Tommy. I can’t take her with us. I can’t risk her life or the baby’s. And I can’t just leave them behind, not after everything." Joel’s voice wavered, his hands shaking as he finally let the tears fall, his tough exterior crumbling. "I thought I could do it… thought I could keep everyone safe, but I’m just not strong enough.”
Tommy leaned forward, his expression torn between concern and disbelief. "Joel, you don’t have to do this alone. You’ve got people here. You’ve got me."
Joel shook his head, wiping at his eyes. "Ellie needs to get to the Fireflies, for the cure. It’s what she’s meant for. But I can’t go, not with the baby coming. I need you to do this for me, Tommy. Please."
Tommy was silent for a long time, his heart breaking for his brother. "Joel… are you sure?"
Joel’s shoulders slumped as he nodded, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. "I don’t want to lose her, but I can’t lose them either. I can’t make this choice."
Tommy sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. "Alright," he finally said, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ll take Ellie. But, Joel...”
Joel took a shaky breath, his hands trembling as he gripped the edge of the bar. “It’s not just Ellie, Tommy. It’s me too.” His voice cracked, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself be vulnerable. “I’ve been having these panic attacks. Can’t breathe, can’t think straight. I… I haven’t felt this way since… since Sarah.”
Tommy's eyes widened, a mixture of shock and concern flooding his expression. "Joel…"
“I try to hold it together, but I’m falling apart, man. And I don’t know how to stop it,” Joel confessed, his voice breaking. “I’ll be out there, trying to protect her, trying to protect all of us, and suddenly it hits me — like a damn freight train. My chest tightens, my heart races, and I feel like… like I’m losing control.”
Tommy was silent for a moment, letting the weight of Joel’s words sink in. He'd seen his brother take on the world, survive impossible situations, but this was different. This was something Joel couldn’t fight with his fists or a gun.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Joel whispered, running a hand through his hair. "I'm scared all the time, Tommy. Scared that I’ll mess it up. That I’ll lose Ellie. That I’ll lose..." He faltered, swallowing hard. “That I’ll lose them both.”
Tommy stepped closer; his voice gentle but firm. “You don’t have to carry this alone, Joel. You never did. It’s okay to feel this way, man. No one expects you to be invincible.”
Joel let out a bitter laugh, though there was no humor in it. “But that’s what I’ve always had to be, ain’t it? The strong one. The protector. I don’t know how to be anything else.”
“You’ve been protecting people your whole damn life,” Tommy said, his tone filled with empathy. “But now… now it’s time to let people protect you too.”
Joel’s eyes were red, his jaw tight as he fought the urge to break down. “I don’t know if I can do this without her. Without them.”
“You don’t have to,” Tommy said quietly. “But I’ll take Ellie to the Fireflies. I promise I’ll keep her safe. You take care of yourself, Joel. Take care of the family you’re building here. You’ve earned that.”
Joel nodded; his heart heavy but grateful for Tommy’s understanding. He still felt the crushing weight of his fears, but for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel completely alone. Tommy was there. Ellie was there. You were there. And soon, there would be a baby who needed him too.
But still, his tears silently fell as he tried to hold himself together. This was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, and it tore him apart inside. But he knew it was the only way to protect the people he loved. Even if it meant letting go.
+++++++++++++
You sat on the couch with Ellie, the warmth of the fire crackling in the fireplace nearby, casting a soft glow across the room. Ellie was watching the flames, her mind elsewhere, while you found yourself glancing down at your belly again, thinking about everything that was changing, everything that was coming.
“Ellie,” you began softly, breaking the comfortable silence between you. She turned her head slightly, her expression expectant. “I’ve been thinking… Would you wait until after the baby is born to go to the Fireflies? Just a little longer?”
Ellie’s brow furrowed slightly, as if the idea weighed heavily on her. She didn’t answer right away, and you could see the internal struggle flicker in her eyes.
“I know you want to help,” you continued, your voice gentle. “I know you want to be the cure, to make a difference. But… it’s dangerous out there. And I don’t want to lose you.”
Ellie shifted uncomfortably, pulling her knees up to her chest as she stared down at the floor. “It’s not about me, though,” she said, her voice low but steady. “I get it, you want me to stay, but the cure... it could give the baby a better future. It could give everyone a better future. And I can’t just sit here while I have the chance to do that.”
Her words struck you deep, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for wanting her to stay, to keep her close, to keep her safe. But Ellie had always been selfless, always thinking of others, always wanting to make things better.
You sighed, resting a hand on your belly as the weight of her words sank in. “I just want you to be safe, Ellie. You mean a lot to all of us. And I don’t want to see you hurt.”
Ellie smiled faintly, though her expression was filled with understanding. “I know. But… if I can do something to stop all of this, the infection, the danger, then the baby… they won’t have to grow up like this. They could have a real life, without the constant fear of what’s out there.”
The thought of that future, one where the baby didn’t have to face the same horrors that you and Ellie had, made your heart ache. She was right, and that was what made it so hard.
Ellie noticed the worry lines forming on your forehead and reached over, giving your arm a gentle nudge. “Hey,” she said, her voice softening, “don’t stress yourself out. You’ve got enough to think about. Go and rest. You need to take care of yourself, and the peanut.”
You offered her a tired smile, appreciating the concern in her tone. “You sound like Joel.”
Ellie smirked. “Guess he’s rubbing off on me.”
You laughed softly, but the weight of the conversation still hung in the air. “Just… promise me you’ll think about it, Ellie. Please.”
Ellie met your gaze, her eyes serious. “I’ll think about it,” she said, and though you knew her mind was made up, her words gave you a small sense of comfort.
With that, you slowly stood, feeling the fatigue settle into your bones. Ellie watched you with a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Go rest, Mom-to-be,” she teased. “I’ll be here.”
You chuckled softly, grateful for the lightness she brought to the moment. “Alright, alright. I’m going. Good night, Ellie.”
“Good night” she replied, smiling as you entered the bedroom.
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Joel stood outside for what felt like an eternity, staring into the darkness, weighed down by the decision he had made. He knew it was the right thing to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. The thought of sending Ellie away with Tommy gnawed at him, the fear of losing her or failing her again tightening around his chest like a vice.
Finally, with a heavy sigh, he walked back into the house, his footsteps slow and hesitant. The place was quiet, a stillness that only made the ache in his heart more pronounced. He stopped by the door to your bedroom, hearing the soft rhythm of your breathing. You were resting, just like you needed to be.
But there was another conversation he couldn’t avoid.
Joel walked down the hall to Ellie’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and he could see her sitting on the edge of her bed, lost in her own thoughts. She turned her head when she noticed him, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“What’s up?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual, but there was an edge to her voice that Joel couldn’t ignore.
Joel hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. He couldn’t meet her gaze right away. “Ellie, we need to talk,” he said, his voice low and thick with the weight of his words.
She sat up straighter, sensing that something was wrong. “What is it? What happened?”
Joel rubbed a hand over his face, trying to find the right words, but all that came out was, “Tommy’s taking you to the Fireflies.”
The room fell into a tense silence, Ellie’s eyes widening in shock before narrowing in anger. “What? No,” she said, her voice rising. “You’re supposed to take me. That was the plan!”
“I can’t,” Joel replied, his voice breaking just slightly as he tried to keep his composure. “I can’t leave them behind. Not with the baby coming.”
“Are you kidding me?” Ellie snapped, standing up now, her fists clenched at her sides. “You’re just gonna pass me off to Tommy like I’m some burden? What the hell, Joel?”
“It’s not like that,” Joel said, shaking his head, but the guilt was already eating at him. “I’m trying to protect you.”
Ellie scoffed, her frustration boiling over. “Protect me? you’re just okay with sending me away? Why can’t you take me?”
Joel took a deep breath, the panic rising inside him. “Ellie, I’ve been having these panic attacks,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “I can’t—I’m not strong enough anymore. I can’t do it. I can’t protect you the way I need to, not with all of this happening. I don’t want to fail you.”
Ellie’s anger wavered for a moment, her eyes searching his face. “Joel…,” she said, her voice softer now. “You’re not gonna fail me. You never have.”
“I already have,” Joel whispered, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Too many times. I couldn’t save Sarah. I couldn’t stop Tess from getting hurt. I won’t let you get hurt too, Ellie. And I can’t leave them—her, the baby—behind. I just can’t.”
Ellie’s face softened, but the frustration was still there. “Joel, I don’t want Tommy to take me. I want you. We’ve been through all of this together. It’s you and me. You don’t get to just hand me off when it gets hard.”
Joel’s eyes were wet now, the emotions too much to hold back. “I’m trying to keep you safe, Ellie. That’s all I want.”
Joel stood outside for what felt like an eternity, staring into the darkness, weighed down by the decision he had made. He knew it was the right thing to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. The thought of sending Ellie away with Tommy gnawed at him, the fear of losing her or failing her again tightening around his chest like a vice.
Finally, with a heavy sigh, he walked back into the house, his footsteps slow and hesitant. The place was quiet, a stillness that only made the ache in his heart more pronounced. He stopped by the door to your bedroom, hearing the soft rhythm of your breathing. You were resting, just like you needed to be.
But there was another conversation he couldn’t avoid.
Joel walked down the hall to Ellie’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and he could see her sitting on the edge of her bed, lost in her own thoughts. She turned her head when she noticed him, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“What’s up?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual, but there was an edge to her voice that Joel couldn’t ignore.
Joel hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. He couldn’t meet her gaze right away. “Ellie, we need to talk,” he said, his voice low and thick with the weight of his words.
She sat up straighter, sensing that something was wrong. “What is it? What happened?”
Joel rubbed a hand over his face, trying to find the right words, but all that came out was, “Tommy’s taking you to the Fireflies.”
The room fell into a tense silence, Ellie’s eyes widening in shock before narrowing in anger. “What? No,” she said, her voice rising. “You’re supposed to take me. That was the plan!”
“I can’t,” Joel replied, his voice breaking just slightly as he tried to keep his composure. “I can’t leave them behind. Not with the baby coming.”
“Are you kidding me?” Ellie snapped, standing up now, her fists clenched at her sides. “You’re just gonna pass me off to Tommy like I’m some burden? What the hell, Joel?”
“It’s not like that,” Joel said, shaking his head, but the guilt was already eating at him. “I’m trying to protect you.”
Ellie scoffed, her frustration boiling over. “Protect me? I thought you didn’t want me to go at all, and now you’re just okay with sending me away? Why can’t you take me?”
Joel took a deep breath, the panic rising inside him. “Ellie, I’ve been having these panic attacks,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “I can’t—I’m not strong enough anymore. I can’t do it. I can’t protect you the way I need to, not with all of this happening. I don’t want to fail you.”
Ellie’s anger wavered for a moment, her eyes searching his face. “Joel…,” she said, her voice softer now. “You’re not gonna fail me. You never have.”
“I already have,” Joel whispered, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Too many times. I couldn’t save Sarah. I couldn’t stop Tess from getting hurt. I won’t let you get hurt too, Ellie. And I can’t leave them—her, the baby—behind. I just can’t.”
Ellie’s face softened, but the frustration was still there. “Joel, I don’t want Tommy to take me. I want you. We’ve been through all of this together. It’s you and me. You don’t get to just hand me off when it gets hard.”
Joel’s eyes were wet now, the emotions too much to hold back. “I’m trying to keep you safe, Ellie. That’s all I want.”
“I know,” she said, her voice wavering. “But you’re all I’ve got. You can’t just let me go like that.”
They stood there in the quiet room, both of them battling their own fears and emotions. Joel wiped at his eyes, trying to collect himself.
“I’m not abandoning you,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t make this choice. I can’t risk losing all of you. Tommy… he’s strong. He’ll get you there.”
Ellie shook her head, frustration flashing across her face. “You’re not listening. I don’t want Tommy to take me—I want you.”
Joel looked at her, his heart twisting. He hated this, hated that he was letting her down. “Ellie... I’m not your father,” he said, his voice cracking with the weight of the admission. He had never said it out loud like this, and it hit him as hard as it hit her.
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Ellie looked like she’d been slapped. Her face hardened, jaw clenched. “Well,” she started, her voice sharp and bitter, “your girlfriend told me we could be a family.” She glared at him, daring him to contradict her.
Joel winced. The truth of it stung, the possibility of a family he didn’t feel worthy of. “I know,” he murmured, struggling to find the right thing to say. “But Ellie, that doesn’t mean I can risk everything—risk you—for a chance at something that might never come.”
Ellie shook her head, her eyes filling with tears she refused to let fall. “You don’t get it, do you?” she whispered. “I don’t want a family that leaves me behind when things get tough. I don’t want Tommy, or anyone else. I just want you.”
Joel’s heart shattered at her words. He saw the hurt, the fear of abandonment in her eyes, and it crushed him. He stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off.
“Ellie, please...” Joel started, but she cut him off, her voice trembling with emotion.
“No, Joel. You don’t get to decide what’s best for me without even asking me what I want. We’ve been through too much for that. And now, just when we could finally be something—be a family—you’re pushing me away.”
“I’m trying to keep you safe,” Joel repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“And what if I don’t want safe?” Ellie shot back, her voice shaking with frustration. “What if I want you?”
Joel swallowed hard, unable to find the words to answer her. He had spent so long keeping her at arm’s length, convincing himself that it was for her own good. But now, standing here, watching her fight to stay close to him, he realized how much he needed her too. How much she had become a part of his life, of him.
Joel’s jaw clenched, the weight of everything pressing down on him. He didn’t want to hurt Ellie, didn’t want to push her away, but he felt trapped. Torn between protecting her and staying with the new life that was growing inside you. He took a deep breath, his voice low and firm, but his heart breaking as he spoke.
“That’s final, Ellie,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’ll go with Tommy.”
The words seemed to echo in the room, heavy and irreversible. Ellie’s face crumpled in disbelief, anger flashing through her eyes, but before she could respond, Joel turned and walked out, the ache in his chest almost unbearable.
He moved through the quiet house, his footsteps heavy, his heart even heavier. His mind raced with guilt, fear, and uncertainty. He didn’t want to lose Ellie, but he also couldn’t leave you behind, not with the baby on the way. He just couldn’t.
As he reached the bedroom where you were sleeping, he paused in the doorway. The soft sound of your steady breathing filled the room, offering a strange kind of peace amidst the chaos swirling inside him. Joel leaned against the doorframe, his eyes fixed on your sleeping form, wondering how everything had become so complicated.
He stepped inside, moving quietly so as not to wake you. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he ran a hand through his hair, staring down at his hands as if the answers to his problems might appear there. The weight of his decision pressed down on him, and for the first time in a long while, Joel felt truly lost.
You stirred in your sleep, sensing his presence. Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light in the room. Seeing Joel sitting there, shoulders slumped, staring down at his hands, you felt a surge of concern wash over you.
“What’s wrong?” you asked softly, your voice groggy from sleep but laced with worry.
Joel flinched slightly, as if he hadn’t expected you to wake up. He shook his head, his eyes not meeting yours. “Nothin’,” he muttered, his voice quiet and strained. “Go back to sleep.”
But you knew better. You could see the tension in his body, the heaviness in his expression. You reached out, gently touching his arm, urging him to lie down beside you. “Joel… talk to me.”
He hesitated for a moment, the weight of the world still pressing down on him. But instead of saying anything, he let out a long breath and slid under the covers next to you. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if every action carried the burden he was trying to hide.
You shifted closer to him, resting your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, steady but faster than usual. His arm wrapped around you almost instinctively, holding you close, but you could feel the tension in his muscles, the internal battle he was fighting.
“You don’t have to carry it all on your own,” you whispered, your hand gently tracing patterns on his chest.
Joel’s arm tightened around you, but he didn’t respond right away. After a long silence, he finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “I’m tryin’ to keep everything together… for you, for the baby… for Ellie.”
You looked up at him, your heart aching at the sight of the pain etched into his face. “And who’s keeping you together, Joel?”
He didn’t answer. He just held you tighter, as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded in that moment. The silence stretched between you, heavy but comforting in its own way.
Joel exhaled slowly, the tension in his body softening just a little as he held you close. He could feel your warmth against him, the steady rhythm of your breath, and it made something inside him loosen—a little piece of that ever-present weight.
He ran a hand through your hair, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know,” he started, his rough tone softening, “I used to think I was too broken for this… for love, for family, for you.”
You lifted your head slightly, looking at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Joel…”
But he continued, his words flowing quietly into the night. “But you—you’ve been so good to me. You, with your stubbornness and your heart… you gave me somethin’ I thought I’d never have again. You make me want to be better. For you, for the baby.”
His hand traced slow, gentle circles on your back, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly, the heaviness in the air easing just a little. “You’re a sap, Joel,” you teased, though your heart was fluttering at his words.
Joel chuckled, the sound low and raspy, but it carried a warmth you hadn’t heard from him in a while. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” he said with a small smirk, his eyes softening as he looked at you.
You settled back against his chest, your cheek pressed to the steady rise and fall of his breath. His hand continued to stroke your back, grounding both of you in that moment. But even as the quiet warmth between you spread, you could feel there was something deeper weighing on him still.
After a few moments, Joel spoke again, this time more serious. “There’s somethin’ I gotta do. And you’re not gonna like it.”
You shifted slightly, lifting your head to look at him again, your brows furrowing with concern. “Joel, what do you mean?”
His eyes flickered with something—guilt, regret—but he swallowed it down, forcing a gentle smile for you. “You’re gonna hate me for a little while, darlin’. But I need to do what’s right. For you. For Ellie. For this family.”
You opened your mouth to protest, worry creeping into your chest, but Joel stopped you with a soft kiss on your forehead. “Just trust me,” he whispered. “I’ll make it right.”
You searched his eyes, seeing the weight of the decision he had made. Part of you wanted to push, to ask him what he meant, but the other part knew better. Joel had always carried the burden of protecting those he loved, even when it hurt him.
Eventually, the quiet comfort of his presence and the exhaustion of the day began to take over. You rested your head back on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath you.
“I trust you, Joel,” you whispered, though your mind still whirled with questions.
He held you close, his arm tightening around you, and for a moment, he felt like he could breathe again. But he knew, deep down, that the decision he had made would change things. For better or worse, he would protect the people he loved, even if it meant you’d be angry with him for a time.
As your breathing began to slow, sleep tugging at you, Joel leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I love you,” he whispered into the quiet, his voice raw with emotion. “No matter what happens. I love you.”
You didn’t respond, already drifting off to sleep on his chest, but the warmth of his words followed you into your dreams.
Joel he couldn’t stop feeling his heart breaking at the sight of you sleeping on his chest right now. He had made you believe that safety was a place wherever he was, he made you believe that you were going to have a place to sleep next to him to keep the demons away.
Joel, still wide awake, stared at the ceiling, the weight of his decision settling heavily over him. But for now, with you sleeping peacefully beside him, he could pretend that everything would be okay, just for a little while longer.
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You slowly woke to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, stretching and blinking against the brightness. As your mind cleared, you reached for Joel, but the spot next to you was empty. A sense of unease settled in your stomach.
Sitting up, you glanced around the room, noticing the stillness. That’s when your eyes caught sight of a folded piece of paper on the nightstand, the sight of it sending a rush of anxiety through you. You could see your name written in Joel's familiar handwriting, and your heart sank.
You reached for the letter, your fingers trembling slightly as you unfolded it. The words blurred for a moment, but you forced yourself to focus, the reality of the situation washing over you as you read:
Darlin’,
I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I have to do this. I’m leaving you here while I take Ellie to the Fireflies. I thought long and hard about it, and I believe it’s what’s best for all of us.
I can’t risk losing you or the baby. I don’t want to drag you into danger. This is something Ellie needs to do, and I can’t leave her behind. I hope you can understand.
You’re stronger than you know, and I trust you to take care of yourself. I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise. Just… please take care of yourself and the baby.
I love you.
—Joel
Your heart raced as you reread the letter, each line cutting deeper than the last. Confusion, anger, and heartbreak swirled within you, each emotion colliding as you tried to process his decision. He was leaving. Leaving you behind to take Ellie away, and you had no way to stop him.
You stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor as you rushed to the door, but there was only silence on the other side. You felt a surge of frustration and fear; how could he think this was for the best?
After a moment, you took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself. You could be angry later, but right now, you needed to find him. You grabbed your jacket and hurried out of the bedroom, determination pushing you forward.
“Joel!” you called out, your voice echoing through the empty house. There was no response, only the quiet that surrounded you. You raced down the hall, hoping to find him somewhere inside, but he was nowhere to be found.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you stepped outside, the cool air hitting your skin. You squinted against the light, scanning the area for any sign of him.
The sight of him made your heart drop. Tommy’s face said everything. He looked worn, the weight of the situation clear in his eyes, and that only fueled your rising panic. You rushed toward him, emotions spilling over as tears began to blur your vision.
“Tommy!” you cried, your voice breaking. “Have you seen Joel? He… he’s leaving me here!”
Tommy stepped forward, his arms opening instinctively as you reached him. You collapsed into his embrace, the warmth of his support contrasting sharply with the cold fear wrapping around you. As he held you close, your tears flowed freely, each sob echoing the pain and confusion swirling inside.
“It’s okay,” Tommy murmured, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “I’m here. You’re not alone.”
You buried your face in his shoulder, the reality of the situation crashing over you like a tidal wave. “He thinks he’s doing what’s best, but he’s not! I can’t believe he would leave me.”
Tommy held you tighter, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I know. I know it hurts. But Joel cares about you—about both of you—more than anything. He’s just scared.”
“But I need him here!” you exclaimed, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes, the pain reflected back at you. “I don’t want to be left behind. We’re supposed to be a family!”
“I’m your family,” Tommy whispered, his voice steady and sincere.
You felt a flicker of comfort in his words, but it didn’t erase the emptiness Joel’s absence left behind.
………
“Tommy,” Joel had said, his voice low and urgent as he leaned closer, eyes dark with concern. “I need you to promise me something.”
“Anything,” Tommy replied, sensing the gravity of the moment.
“Take care of my baby,” Joel had insisted, his expression fierce. “Promise me they’ll be okay.”
Tommy had nodded, ready to reassure him. “Of course, Joel. I’ll do everything I can to keep the baby safe.”
But then Joel’s gaze sharpened, a hint of desperation in his voice. “No, I mean my baby,” he clarified, referring not just to the life growing inside you but to you as well. “Promise me both will be okay.”
Tommy had felt the weight of that request, the unspoken fears underlying Joel’s words. “You have my word, brother. I’ll protect them both.”
……
Tags 💌: @jasminedragoon @orcasoul @missladym1981 @hiroikegawa @eleganthottubfun @lumpypoll @cuteanimalmama @thespookywookies @goodvibesonly421 @karaslqve @greenwitchfromthewoods @somedayheaven @bambisweethearts @joelsteinfeld @guelyury @biapascal @picketniffler @mrsyixingunicorn10 @httpvomitello @kulekehe
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itsmrshamilton · 1 month ago
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Happy birthday! | LH44
summary: baby hamilton celebrates Roscoe's birthday for the first time
a/n: a fic in celebration of my stepson's 12th🪅
💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌
You rolled the last sock over the chubby foot then slipped the small shoe on and pressed down the velcro strap.
"Okay, you're all dressed. Look at how handsome you look!" You cood at your baby boy. He smiled and kicked his feet in delight.
You lifted him into your arms and walked out of the nursery, bouncing him as you went.
"Dada, dada, dada." He babbled. You smiled at him in pride. Cameron wasn't speaking full sentences yet but was learning words pretty quickly. However, the difference between your accent and Lewis' accent was making it hard for your son to pick up words.
"You want dada, my sweets?" He nodded, big brown eyes looking up at you. "Dada's out picking up Roscoe and his friends, yeah? So we'll stay here and set up for the party."
"Pah- tee." He uttered, chubby cheeks working hard to move around the word. You giggled at his effort and kissed his big forehead.
"Yes! Party. Mummy's going to put you down here so she can get the bowls out." You set him down on his play mat in the living room. He immediately crawled towards his squeaky toys and talking teddies. A true lover of loud noises, like his father. You set about finding dog bowls and filling them with treats, water, and fruits, then organising party packs with chew toys and 'thank you' cards. When you heard the gate roll open, you left the kitchen to go open the front door. Your curious boy abandoned his toys to turn towards the door, eager to see what was going on.
As you opened, 5 energetic dogs frantically pushed their way in, dragging a chuckling Lewis behind them. He was tangled in the mess the leashes made. Cam squealed in delight at the sight before him.
"Oh, my! Look at Dada and all the dogs, sweetie!" You exclaimed. Cam clapped his small hands and grabbed his feet in excitement. You couldn't help but laugh at his antics. Watching this small being react to everything in wonderment and awe was the best part of being a parent.
"Woah, guys. Let's get these leashes off, and then everyone can explore to their hearts' delight, yeah?" Lewis kneeled and let the dogs loose before standing up to kiss you. "Hello, love." You smiled bashfully and wrapped your arms around his neck.
A loud squeal forced you apart, and you turned to see your boy giggling loudly as the dogs sniffed and licked at him. They were all well trained and friendly pups, so you weren't worried about them hurting him. Cam didn't seem worried either as he waved his arms, trying to get the dogs to stop tickling him.
Roscoe managed to push through the crowd of 4-legged baby lovers to get to the center and barked at the others to back off and find other interests in the house. He gently nudged his face into your son's arms for some snuggles and pats.
"Osco!" Yelled your son. He couldn't roll R's yet, so this was the best he could do. The first time he mumbled the bulldog's name, Lewis nearly collapsed from extreme joy. It was Cam's second word after Dada, which stung a little for you but couldn't beat the pride you felt overall. Roscoe was the first member of both of your families to meet your son. He adjusted very quickly and learned to be gentle and quiet around the baby. Refusing to sleep anywhere but the nursery at night, growling at anyone who dared to go near the baby in the first months and barking menacingly at anyone who raised their voice when the baby was asleep. Now that your boy is getting older, Roscoe allows him to use his body to balance when he tries to stand, he carries over his chew toys to share and he promptly cleans up any bits of food thrown off the high chair. They were best friends. The cutest duo you'd ever seen. And now you got to include your son in Roscoe's birthday celebration.
Despite Roscoe being very gentle with him, your baby was still learning to be the same with Roscoe. You watched as Cam lifted Roscoe's ear to put the hairy tip into his mouth. Lewis swooped in quickly and lifted him.
"Hey, buddy. We don't bite Roscoe's ears, okay?"
"Osco!" Came the reply, barely registering his dad and reaching down to his furry sibling.
"Is dada just wasting his breath?" You smiled in amusement at your favourite boys. Side by side, they looked alike a lot. Same big eyes, small lips, and chubby cheeks. Your son had light tufts of hair, but you saw the potential for it to be thick like yours one day.
Lewis began to entertain the guests and his sons, so you went back to the kitchen to prepare human food for lunch.
As the day went on, the human guests arrived bearing gifts and drinks. The party was coming to life. The dogs ran wildly in the large yard, your son was passed around like a trophy and the birthday boy was treated to all the belly rubs and pats he could ask for. As the sun began to set, Lewis brought out the giant cake that was designed to look like Roscoe's favourite food - a watermelon. The cake was vegan friendly and pet friendly. Lewis proudly placed it in front of his firstborn and began the birthday song.
Everyone joined in and took pictures while Roscoe sat proudly and smiled for every camera. He waited til everyone cheered and then dug into the cake. His friends joined in, and together, they did their best to clear the plate. Lewis helped you hand out slices of the cake suitable for humans. As you took a plate for yourself, you realised your boy wasn't where you left him.
"Y/n, do you have Cam?" He turned to ask you but froze when he saw your panicked face.
"No! I thought you might have him." You began to panic some more. You saw Lewis' eyes widen a bit, and he put his plate down to pull you closer. You continued to look around over his shoulder. No one else seemed to notice your baby was gone.
"Don't panic. There's a lot of people, he coul-"
"Bloody hell!" You yelled. "Lewis, look at your son! Cameron!" You pulled out of your husband's grasp to stare in shock. "Cameron!"
Lewis jumped and turned around to see.
Amongst the dogs ravashing the vegan cake was the little boy, seated next to Roscoe and shoving fistfulls into his small mouth. You could feel the grey hairs growing in. Lewis, on the other hand, couldn't be happier to see his best boys bonding.
💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌
I suck at ending stories, man.
Thanks for reading this far. Be sure to interact before you leave! Do not alter, copy or repost my work anywhere else.
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puckinghischier · 5 months ago
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Fakers
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Jack Hughes x fem!reader
summary: reader needs jack to be her fake boyfriend, and it leads to something very not fake
notes: hello!! it’s literally 2am and i just finished this, so needless to say it’s unedited, but i love this fic so much. i combined two different requests for it and i had so much fun with it. i hope you enjoy!! happy reading!! 🫶🏼
also i’m starting a tag list in the comments, so let me know if you’d like to be added!! 🫡
request: from my 400 follower celly - You owe me.” “I owe you $20 not a day of pretending to be your partner to get your parents off your back” & “A realizing that they have feelings for B when they see them with someone else”
[5.4k]
“Jack! Please tell me you’re home. It’s an emergency!” you frantically slam his apartment door shut.
Searching the large space for any signs of life, you beg for him to be home.
“Jack! C’mon! It’s urgent!” you yell out, walking down the hallway towards his bedroom.
You twist the knob of the closed door, finding it locked. Huffing, you start beating your fist against the wood.
“Open up! I know you’re in there!”
You continue your assault on the door, stopping only when the door opens and your fist meets air. You step back in surprise, nearly hitting Jack square in his bare chest.
A soaking wet, shirtless Jack stands in front of you with a towel wrapped around his waist.
“God, what took you so long? I texted you SOS on my way over here,” you barreled past him, walking into his bedroom.
“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s not like I just had a grueling three-hour practice or anything. God forbid I take a hot shower afterwards,” Jack throws his hands up in the air, watching you walk straight for his closet.
You and jack had been friends since the second you moved to Jersey, the sassy brunette being just what you needed to make you feel at home in the unfamiliar state.
As you were moving in down the hall, Jack had half of the team over at his apartment watching game film in preparation for a week of road games.
Him and few teammates walked out into the hallway to investigate the loud bangs they kept hearing, watching you try to squeeze a bookshelf into your apartment that was three times the size of the doorway.
An hour later you had a disassembled bookshelf and four very attractive men in your living room.
Jack had recruited some of his teammates, as you later learned, to help you put the bookshelf back together.
You apologized for interrupting their plans, the rest of Jack’s teammates still in his apartment, and insisted they go back to their friends. You told them you could handle putting back together a bookshelf, even though you had absolutely no idea what you were doing.
They waved off your concerns, telling you they needed to help you finish what they started.
After the bookshelf was put together and in place, Jack invited you over to his apartment, deciding they had watched enough film for that night, using the incentive of pizza to lure you. You would’ve objected, seeing as he invited you into an apartment full of strange men, but the pang of hunger in your stomach threw all caution to the wind, leading your feet three doors down and into the strange apartment.
You gained a whole group of friends that night, not knowing until a week later your new friends were Jersey’s own professional hockey team.
Jack and Luke helped you finish the rest of your move in, spending more and more time with your new neighbors as the days went on. You added weekly take out dinners into your schedules and alternating hockey watch parties in each other’s apartments, the brothers insisting you need to learn to love the game.
You can’t deny the fact that you started developing feelings for the middle Hughes pretty quickly, his fun energy and magnetic personality roping you in. The nature of your friendship was extremely laid back, the two of you bickering nearly as much as you made the other laugh. Luke often said the two of you either act like an old married couple or newlyweds that already resent each other.
It didn’t take long for you to figure out, however, that Jack was too focused on living the hockey lifestyle to settle down anytime soon. You noticed the flow of girls in and out of his apartment, having met a few on their way out in the mornings on your way to work.
Attempting to push your feelings to the back of your mind, you continued spending time with the rowdy athletes. A small part of you still held out hope, especially after Jack gave you a key to their apartment, telling you he was tired of having to get the door every time you decided you wanted to come over.
Which is exactly how you were able to enter his apartment now, in your desperate time of need.
You knew your parents were going to visit you once you had settled in. The piece of information they left out, though, was that they scheduled a dinner with the lawyer son of one of your dad’s coworkers that also happens to live in the city.
Now, sifting through his closet in search of an outfit appropriate for the high-end restaurant your parents reserved for tonight, you worry about Jack’s reaction to your – and now his – predicament.
“Jack, don’t you own anything that isn’t designer? I don’t want my parents to think you’re a douche throwing his money in everyone’s face,” you slide each Tom Ford, Armani, and his one Gucci suit to the side.
Jack, still standing with his hand on his open door, starts walking over to you, crossing his arms.
“So, you not only barge into my apartment unexpectedly and interrupt my shower, but you’re now criticizing my formal wear?” he asks before realization shows on his face. “Wait, what do you mean your parents? And why are you so dressed up?” he suddenly notices your floor-length, black formal dress and full face of make-up.
You turn to face him slowly, an overexaggerated, nervous smile on your face.
“Well…you’re…meetingmyparentstonight,” you mumble out, running your words together.
“Run that back one more time?” Jack asks you, eyes widening.
“You’re meeting my parents tonight,” you say at a normal pace this time, doing small jazz hands.
Groaning, Jack turns away from you, placing his hands on the top of his head as he paces.
“What did you do?” he asks, still pacing, knowing how you are and that you’re only ever this anxious about stuff when there’s a reason.
“Okay, so don’t get mad,” you start, placing your hands out in front of you as if you’re calming down a wild animal.
“Oh, great, that’s always followed by good news,” Jack rolls his eyes, stopping to stand in front of you.
“I might have, maybe, just a little bit…told my parents that you were my boyfriend,” you rush out again, closing your eyes and wincing.
Jack doesn’t respond, not making a single sound. You slowly open one eye, waiting for him to start scolding you. You see him standing there, wide eyes and frozen.
“You told…parents…your boyfriend?” his broken sentence amuses you, but you have to hold in the laugh, figuring laughing at him wouldn’t do you any favors right now.
“Yes,” you confirm, causing Jack to close his eyes and inhale, his hand flying up to press against his forehead. “But! They’re trying to set me up on a blind date with one of my dad’s stuck-up coworker’s sons. You know I told them I’d never date a lawyer,” you explain, stepping closer to Jack, testing the waters. “Plus, I hate being set up, Jack. One of my dating requirements is friends first, date later.”
“Why?” Jack now pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why in the hell would you tell your parents I’m your boyfriend? I haven’t dated in someone in…I don’t know, three years? This should’ve been a Luke job.”
“Because you’re my best friend. It wouldn’t have been believable with Luke because I don’t know him as well as I know you,” you tell him, watching him open his mouth to argue. “Plus, you owe me.”
Jack scoffs. “Oh, I owe you, huh? Do tell, what for?”
“When I bought your sushi last week because you forgot your wallet at the rink when I met you out for lunch.”
Jack rolls his eyes. “Are you serious? I owe you $20, not a day of pretending to be your boyfriend to get your parents off your back!”
“But…a day of pretending to be my boyfriend can pay your $20 debt,” you smile and tilt your head, batting your eyelashes.
Jack mulls the idea over in his head for a few moments, deciding on if he’s going to help you or not. You continue batting your eyelashes and giving Jack your trademark puppy dog eyes.
“Fine…give me twenty minutes and I’ll be ready,” he grumbles, shoulders deflating a little.
“Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you squeal, doing a happy jump and running over to hug him.
You realize a second too late he’s still damp and very naked, jumping back and apologizing mere seconds after you made contact with his bare skin.
“I’ll go wait in your living room,” you say, turning and heading towards his door.
“I’m wearing the Gucci, by the way,” he calls out as you reach the doorway.
“Please, at least wear the Armani so they think you’re poor rich, not rich rich,” you hear him laugh as you shut his door.
Just as Jack told you, twenty minutes later you’re in his car on the way to some rooftop restaurant your parents reserved for your ‘family’ dinner.
“So, what’s our story?” Jack asks, breaking the silence.
“Our story?” you repeat, confused.
“Yeah, our story. Like, what was the magical moment we realized we were actually more than friends and were head over heels with one another?” he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
You look over at him, a small smirk on his lips.
“Do you seriously think I went into that much detail when I stuttered out ‘oh…I uhh…forgot to tell you, Jack and I are dating now!’ when my mother mentioned Ben was joining us for dinner?”
“Well, I wouldn’t put it past you.”
You scoff at him, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms.
“We don’t have a story. Mom didn’t ask questions so I didn’t offer any,” you respond, looking over at him.
“Wait, she didn’t ask any questions? What was her response?” he asked you, glancing over at you every few seconds.
“No? She just said it was great and to invite you to dinner too, maybe you and Ben would get along,” Jack’s furrowed brow confusing you.
“Shit, Y/N, she doesn’t believe you,” he sits up straight.
“She doesn’t?”
“No, she doesn’t. If she believed you then she would have told Ben not to come. If she believed you, she would have grilled you with questions and squealed with excitement. She wouldn’t have just accepted the answer and told you to bring me along like some pet,” you note the worry in his tone.
Thinking about your mother’s reaction, you remember the uninterested tone she used when telling you how great it was you were with Jack. The lack of enthusiasm definitely uncharacteristic from your mom. You had just assumed she was shocked, not that she didn’t believe you.
“Holy shit you’re right! She didn’t believe me. What are we gonna do?” you reach down the hand resting in your lap and start picking your thumb nail on again, extremely worried they’ll see through your bullshit the second you sit down at the table.
Jack notices the anxious habit of yours, reaching over and placing his hand over your own, effectively stopping your movements.
“We give them the best damn performance of our lives.”
———————————————————————————
As soon as you walk onto the open rooftop, you think you should’ve let Jack wear his Gucci suit.
The dimly lit space is full of people in expensive looking dresses and crisp, clean suits.
You suddenly feel very underdressed.
The hostess leads you over to a table in the corner, you and Jack being the last to arrive.
Jack’s hand is held tightly in yours, the small pep talk he gave you in the elevator already forgotten.
“Oh, Y/N! You’re here!” you hear your mother’s voice as you approach the table, breaking you out of your wardrobe anxieties.
You give a tight-lipped smile, keeping yourself pressed against Jack’s side.
“Well, don’t just stand there, give me a hug!” she exclaims, standing from her seat, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.
You reciprocate her actions, placing your hands on her back.
“Honey, you look so good. I hope this place has been kind to you,” she places her hands on your face, a smile beaming back at you.
You nod at her. “Yeah, I love it here so far.”
She lets you go, her smile never fading.
“Alright, where’s the hug for your old man?” you hear your dad speak from somewhere behind you, turning to see him walking towards you with open arms.
Sinking into his hug, you let yourself enjoy the feeling. Getting to spend time with your dad is a rarity, considering he’s part of a big law-firm back home. He was always working late and missing holidays when you were a kid, your experience with him why you always swore you’d never marry a lawyer like your mother did.
“I missed you, Dad,” you tell him honestly, pulling back from his embrace.
“I missed you more, kiddo,” he pats your cheek, stepping away to take his seat at the table once again.
You hear Jack clear his throat behind you, reminding him that you need to introduce him.
“Oh! Mom, Dad,” you turn back and reach your hand out towards Jack, “this is Jack, the neighbor I’ve been telling you about.” Jack squeezes you hand, reminding you he’s your boyfriend tonight, not your neighbor. “Well…I guess I need to introduce him as my boyfriend now, cause we’re dating!” you say a little too enthusiastically, lifting your intertwined hands for everyone to see.
Jack chuckles, bringing his free hand over to push your joined hands down.
“Hi, I’m Jack, Y/N’s neighbor boyfriend,” he reaches over to shake your dad’s hand.
You notice your mom’s skeptical smile, standing to give Jack a short, half hug.
As you scan the area, trying to find anything else to focus on other than your lack of being able to play it cool, you notice the third body at the table.
You look at the man, his jet black, scruffy hair not at all what you were expecting. He was extremely handsome, you had to give him that. His blue eyes stood out against the dark setting, his black dress shirt under his black suit jacket causing them to stand out even more.
“Well, since introductions are being made, this is Ben, Jim’s boy. He works at a firm just a few miles away, actually,” your dad beams as Ben stands, walking around the table to give Jack’s hand a firm shake.
They exchange a short greeting before Ben makes his way over to you, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles, taking you by surprise.
“Pleasure to meet you…” he trails off, keeping eye contact as he raises back up into a standing position. “Both of you,” he adds as an afterthought, letting go of your hand and glancing at Jack.
“Yeah…you too,” Jack’s tone is laced with an emotion you can’t quite pick up on, but the glare he’s sending Ben is extremely noticeable.
As everyone takes their seats again, Jack scoots your chair out for you before sitting in the chair beside of you, taking your hand in his and resting them on the table.
Small talk is exchanged about Jack’s job, a disapproving nod from your father, your mother asking questions about what he plans to do after his career is over, making sure to throw in digs about how young hockey players are required to retire and the fact that contract money runs out fast with the lifestyle athletes live.
Jack handles them in stride, talking about how he wants to get into coaching once his career comes to an end, but he wants to play hockey for as long as he’s physically able. He also informed your parents that his mother instilled in him how to budget, making sure his necessities are always paid before anything else gets purchased, including a retirement fund.
The conversation then shifts to you and your new job, your mother filling Ben in with side comments the whole time about how you graduated with honors and was offered a big city job right out of college. Ben looked at you the entire time you were talking, seeming genuinely interested in what you were sharing.
Once the conversation shifts to Ben, that’s when the dinner starts going south.
“Ben is in line to become a partner at his firm very soon. It’s all his father talks about at work anymore,” your dad informs the table, laughing and slapping a hand to Ben’s shoulder.
“Well, there’s a few other guys in the running, I’m not a shoo-in yet,” Ben responds, trying to knock down his praise a bit.
“Oh, don’t be so modest, Ben, our Y/N here loves an overachiever, isn’t that right, darling?” your mom looks over to you.
You don’t know what to say to her, stunned that she would be so blatantly obvious about her intentions in front of Ben like this.
“I…well…Yeah, I guess,” you stutter out, not sure how to respond to your mother’s words.
“Do you excel in your field, Jack?” your mom questions your fake boyfriend of the night.
He looks up from his food, not entirely sure how to handle the question. Does he tell them the truth and risk sounding like a gloating asshole, or does he play the modest card and confirm your parent’s suspicions that he’s less than?
“Jack was team captain of team USA! And he’s an alternate captain for the Devils now! He’s also one of the team’s top point scorers,” you ramble out facts about Jack’s hockey career, sensing his hesitation.
Your father’s brows shoot up in surprise.
“Way to go man, sounds awesome,” Ben sounds genuinely impressed.
“That’s something to be proud of,” is all your mother responds.
You look over at Jack in apology, the flush of his cheeks hidden by the dark surroundings.
“Jack was also drafted number one overall in the NHL draft when he was only eighteen. Isn’t that crazy?” you continue, not knowing how to stop the information rolling from your mouth.
“Good for you, son,” your dad says through chewing his food, earning a glare from your mother.
Jack chuckles out a thanks, kicking your foot under the table.
“Always my biggest fan, huh babe?” Jack looks over at you, the look in his eyes telling you to stop, you’re being obvious again.
“Well…it’s not just your good looks that won me over,” you attempt a joke, but it didn’t land very well.
Jack winces at how that sounded.
Realizing what you just said, with the current scrutiny surrounding Jack’s choice of career, you mentally palm your forehead.
“I need to use the restroom, excuse me,” you all but run away from the table.
You make your way to the small bathroom, collecting yourself and telling yourself you don’t have that long left of this torturous dinner.
When you exit the bathroom, you see Ben standing there, waiting for you to come out.
“So…is now a good time to tell you that I know you and Jack aren’t dating?” he asks you, an amused smile on his face.
Your body turns cold, every muscle frozen in place. How does he know? Has your act really been that bad?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell him, laughing nervously.
“Listen, you don’t have to hide it from me. I’m not here because I want to be set up with you. I’m here because I need my dad to still think I’m single,” he surprises you.
“Wait, you have a girlfriend?” you ask him, shock evident in your voice.
“Boyfriend, actually. But haven’t really broke that part to my parents yet.”
Your jaw drops, not believing that your parents are unknowingly trying to set you up with a gay man.
“Holy shit,” you start laughing, unable to hide stop your hand from shooting out to grip Ben’s arm. “I promise I’m not laughing because you’re gay. I’m laughing because my parents would die if they figured out the man they’re trying to set me up doesn’t even like girls.” You want to go over there and scream this piece of information into their faces, but know it’s not your place to out Ben.
“I hate when they try to set me up with people, and I thought it would stop since I moved away, but when they told me you were coming to dinner tonight I panicked and told them I was dating Jack because I didn’t want to have to dodge phone calls and ignore texts, again,” you bring your hand up to wipe the tears out of your eyes. “Who would’ve thought I didn’t even have to worry about it because there’s more of a chance you’d be attracted to my fake boyfriend than me.”
Ben laughs with you, allowing you to lean against him.
From the dinner table, Jack can hear your laughter, turning his head to see you leaning on Ben, the two of you being entirely too close for his liking.
“Well, looks like they’re getting along,” your mother tells your father, nodding her head in the direction of you and Ben.
Jack fully turns in his seat, watching how you talk animatedly with Ben, a large grin on your face as he returns it, looking down at you.
Something wicked swirls in Jack’s stomach, not enjoying watching you laugh with someone like you laugh with him.
He thinks back to all the times you’ve been around his apartment, complaining about the latest guy you were trying to meet up with canceling on you and how angry it makes him to see you upset. He thinks about how you always complain to him about dating apps, wishing you could just meet someone naturally, going on and on about having a ‘meet cute’ like your favorite rom coms and wondering why it always makes him think about how cute you looked trying to shove that big ass bookshelf into your apartment. He thinks about the time you brought a date to one of his games, the satisfaction of seeing you in his jersey almost enough to outweigh the sudden burst of anger he felt in the middle of the game, looking up to see his arm around your shoulders, hand resting a little too close to your chest for his comfort.
He thinks about how he’s always fending off his teammates and random men at bars, not trusting their intentions with you. And the looks that he catches Luke giving the two of you when you’re arguing, his favorite activity being getting you worked up, loving how red your ears get when he keeps firing sarcasm back at your anger.
He always assumed these feelings were a general protectiveness of you and enjoyment of being around you, almost like you were his sister, never once entertaining the idea that they could be more than that.
Until now, that is. Until you’re standing there in that dress, possibly the most beautiful he’s ever seen you, leaning all over another man when you asked him to come here with you. You asked him to be your fake boyfriend, not Mr. Big Time Lawyer.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to go make sure my girlfriend is okay,” he tells your parents, dropping his cloth napkin on the table and scooting his chair back.
You’re still laughing with Ben, exchanging stories about the different set-ups your parents have tried on the two of you.
“You know, even though it’s very obvious you’re not dating, I do have to admit, I can see the feelings you two have for each other,” Ben tells you, changing the subject.
“Oh, no, we’re just friends,” you tell him, your cheeks flushing a bit.
Ben gives you a look, rolling his eyes. “Honey, anyone within a three-mile radius can see that that boy is smitten with you, even if he doesn’t know it yet.”
You look over at Jack who’s looking over at you and Ben.
“I don’t think so,” you shake your head, deciding you can trust Ben. “I mean, I definitely have feelings for him, have for a while, but he’s not the dating type,” you laugh. “Hell, he was worried about having to be my fake boyfriend, considering he hasn’t dated anyone in years. Anyways, the girls I see leaving his apartment most mornings says otherwise.”
“Haven’t you learned men are stupid? Someone usually has to tell them what they’re feeling. Show them what they’re missing out on,” he steps closer to you, the two of you only inches apart now. “Just like right now.”
You cock your head, confused at Ben’s words until you hear footsteps stomping towards you.
“Y/N, babe,” Jack spits out, anger radiating off of him, “can we go somewhere…private to talk?” he puts on a tight smile, watching Ben step back away from you.
“Uh, sure,” you tell him as he grabs your arm, gently leading you over to a secluded corner of the rooftop.
He stands in front of you, running his hands up his face before sweeping them through his hair.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asks, jutting his hand out in the direction you just came from.
“We were just-“
“You were ‘just’ flirting with the man your parents are trying to set you up with in front of their eyes when you brought me here to show them you’re not interested,” he interrupts you, frustration clear in his tone.
“Jack, you don’t understand, Ben is-“
“Perfect for you? Handsome? Your parent’s dream man for you? Better than me?” he cuts you off, his last statement taking you by surprise.
“Jack, where’s this coming from? Ben’s not better than you? What would ever make you think that?” your confusion turns to concern.
“Oh, don’t act all sad and worried now. Not when you were over here getting all close to Ben,” he waves his hands around, disgust lacing his voice as he said Ben’s name, “just mere seconds ago while I was sitting at the table with your parents, watching the whole thing and thinking about how much I love you!” he raises his voice, but not loud enough to disturb the people dining around you.
You’re so shocked at Jack’s words that you step back from him, not believing what you’re hearing.
“Jack, I-“ you start once more, but Jack’s voice cuts you off.
“I know I’m realizing this way too late, but dammit, Y/N, that man,” he points over to Ben, “is not the guy for you. I know I’ve just stood by and watched you try to go on date after date after date with men who weren’t right for you, but I think I was too scared to think about what my feelings meant. I’ve ran off so many men at bars its not even funny. Hell, I’ve told my own teammates you’re off limits, thinking I was just protecting you from getting hurt. But really, all I was doing was being selfish. I was keeping you all to myself while bringing random girls home every couple of nights after having drinks, only to kick them out first thing in the morning when I woke up and had a nasty feeling in my chest,” he pauses, his tone turning from stern to soft as he takes a step towards you.
“I’m realizing that feeling was disgust. Disgust at myself for filling my time with girls that don’t matter, girls that I would never be satisfied with because they weren’t you. I think part of me knew from the second I saw this crazy woman at the end of the hall, trying to push a bookshelf that had to outweigh her by at least a hundred pounds, through the tiny ass door of her apartment. It was confirmed when you agreed to come to my apartment and ate pizza while goofing off with my teammates, instantly clicking with every single one of them. It settled a little deeper when you showed up at my door after I had gotten home from being on the road, demanding we watch Quinn’s hockey game because it was time for you to study hockey. It was made permanent when you showed up to your first Devils game, my name and number on your back, eyes lit up in awe like it was Christmas morning,” he continues, causing tears to sting your eyes as he reaches over to cup your face in his hands.
“I ignored it for all of this time, because I think, deep down, I was scared of losing you. I was scared that you were going to see me as this dumb, jock hockey player that lived down the hall from you and let me down easy. I was scared you’d see how absolutely out of my league you are. I was scared to be vulnerable and admit that I was in love with you, because I couldn’t bear to think that you didn’t love me back,” his face is mere inches from yours. “But I’m tired of ignoring it. Seeing you, laughing with Ben, all pressed up against him like that, thinking that I might have already lost you before I even had the chance to have you, made me realize that I had to try. I had to at least…try,” he finishes, resting his forehead against yours.
The tears are fully streaming down your face at this point, not caring that you’re likely ruining the mascara you spent over fifteen minutes perfecting earlier.
“Jack, you stupid man, just kiss me already,” you whisper out, your breath fanning across his lips.
He smiles, lifting your chin up to press your lips together, sighing happily into the kiss.
You match his smile, making the kiss silly and sloppy, but you don’t care. His lips feel like they were made to fit in-between yours, the softness of them far better than you had imagined.
Pulling back from the kiss, you bring your hands up to rest on his wrists, his hands still holding your face.
“You know, if you had let me speak, I would have saved you the speech and informed you that Ben wasn’t trying to make a move on me, because Ben is gay and has a boyfriend,” Jack pulls back from you, allowing you to see the shocked expression on his face. “We were bonding over the amount of times our parents have tried to set us up with people just like this before, and then he was telling me how in love with each other we were. I was telling him how I definitely was in love with you, but I didn’t believe you were in love with me,” you laugh at Jack, the situation comical now.
“I- he’s gay?” is all Jack responds with.
You throw your head back, laughing at him. “That’s what you took away from what I just said?”
“Sorry, I just, wasn’t expecting it, is all,” he says, moving his hands to your neck, pushing your head back up to look at him.
“Oh, so you were expecting my love confession, then?” you tease him.
“Well, duh, you did ask me to be your fake boyfriend tonight,” Jack moves his hand to pinch your cheek.
“So…are you still? Fake, that is?” you ask him, placing your arms on his shoulders, clasping your hands around the back of his neck.
Jack looks down at you, the expression on his face something entirely new to you, but it’s one you can surely get used to.
“Ehh, I don’t know…ask me again the next time you need a buffer,” he shrugs, smirking at you.
You tug on a piece of his hair, causing him to hiss out.
“Geez, I’m kidding. Of course I’m your real boyfriend now. I gave you a monologue, we’re basically engaged at this point,” he jerks his head a bit, making your hands fall from his hair.
You know it’s a joke, but your cheeks heat at the implication anyways, Jack noticing your lack of response.
“Relax, I was just kidding. That’s at least three more surprise blind date dinners with your parents before we to that. I’ll even pull out a ‘fake’ ring and everything,” he winks, putting air quotes around the word fake.
As Jack enjoys the sound of your laugh, he steals a glance over at the table where your parents sit, surprised at the pleased look on your mom’s face and earning a slight nod from your dad.
He looks back down at you, face scrunched in laughter, thinking about how this night was worth way more than $20.
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cedarmoonzz · 3 months ago
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Hello! I was wondering if I could request a small continuing to your Ford fic? I really enjoyed it and tugged my heart strings. I love you work so much and if your able to do that without any issue, I'd love that!😭💜
yes! i love that six fingered cartoon dilf with every fiber of my being!
once more to see you •。ꪆৎ ˚
continuation of: between the bars followed by: slow like honey
fandom: gravity falls
ship: ford x reader
content: angst, stanford's poor attempt at comfort lol
summary: when your fiancé’s episodes of paranoia spiral out of control, you come to a difficult realization.
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You’ve always seen yourself as someone grounded in logic. Pragmatic to the bone, you’ve relied on reason and science to navigate life, finding comfort in facts and the concrete reality they bring. But lately, that sense of security has started to unravel. 
The cabin was frigid, its icy air wrapping around you like a shroud, seeping into your very bones despite your efforts to ward off the chill. The socks you wore—a secret purchase made without Stanford’s knowledge—offered little warmth, though they  greatly softened the sound of your steps as you quietly drifted from the bedroom to the kitchen, then to the closet, nursing your third cup of coffee that night. Each breath you took was quick, shallow, as if the cold air was stealing it away. As you finally settled at the desolate kitchen table, a wry thought flickered in your mind: could the layers of plywood and fiberglass beneath you truly muffle the frantic beating of your heart, hiding it from your fiancé’s ever-watchful ear? In your own, the rhythm pounded, echoing like a circle of drums, impossibly loud in the oppressive stillness of the cabin.
Stanford’s paranoia didn’t burst into your lives all at once; it crept in quietly, almost imperceptibly, like a shadow growing longer at dusk. It all began when he developed a peculiar fascination with triangles—a simple, geometric shape that, in his hands, took on a life of its own. He transformed the cabin, once a place of warmth and refuge, into a gallery of trigonometric stained glass, each piece more elaborate, more intricate than the last. At first, you found it endearing, even charming, and you laughed it off as just another of his harmless quirks. You told yourself it was just Stanford being Stanford, his brilliant mind forever chasing new ideas.
But as the days turned into weeks, the triangles began to multiply. Their sharp, precise edges cast strange, fragmented light across your home, turning familiar spaces into something alien, almost unrecognizable. You began to notice how the once-welcoming cabin now felt distorted, its atmosphere thick with an unspoken tension. And yet, you didn’t see it for what it was—not at first. You didn’t want to see it. You told yourself it was just the glass, just the way the light hit it, just the way Stanford was channeling his creativity. You ignored the way your stomach twisted with unease, dismissed the creeping dread that settled in your bones.
You shook your head, trying to banish the haunting thoughts that swirled in your mind. There was no time to dwell on what had already happened; what mattered now was moving forward. Rising from your seat, you made your way to the bedroom you and Ford once shared, a space now overshadowed by his office chair, which had become his sanctuary. You reached into the closet, your fingers brushing against the familiar fabric of your thick army jacket. The worn texture offered a rare comfort, a tangible reminder of a time before everything had shifted. As you fumbled through the pockets, your hand closed around a pack of cigarettes—an old habit you had left behind during your second year of graduate school. A fleeting wave of nostalgia washed over you, mingled with regret for the time lost. You slipped the pack back into your pocket and donned the jacket, its sturdy fabric promising some semblance of protection against the biting night winds and the snow that still whirled outside the closed window.
Your gaze then fell upon your boots, left carelessly on the closet floor, caked in mud from past forest excursions with Stanford. You reached down, lifting them with a mixture of sentiment and practicality. With the boots in hand, you carefully descended the stairs, each step deliberate to avoid the creaking floorboards. At the kitchen door, you set the boots down and slipped them on, their familiar weight grounding you in the present. Quietly, you opened the door, the chill of the night air meeting you as you stepped into the darkness, ready to face whatever lay beyond.
You stood on the porch of your home, clad in baggy sweatpants, an oversized coat, and your old brown army boots. The cold night air wrapped around you, but the weight of the familiar clothing offered a small measure of comfort. You instinctively reached into your pocket, a gesture that felt oddly nostalgic, like reconnecting with a part of yourself that had been missing. Pulling out a cigarette, you brought it to your lips, and then you fumbled into your other pocket, searching for a long-abandoned lighter. Your fingers brushed against the cold metal as you hoped to find one still with fluid.
After a moment of fishing, you finally found it. With a deep breath, you shut your eyes, the cigarette resting between your fingers as you brought the lighter to your face. The small flame flickered to life, illuminating your face in the darkness as you lit your former vice. You’d given up smoking years ago, recognizing it as a bad coping mechanism, though it had always managed to calm your nerves better than any of the so-called remedies Stanford had suggested—yoga, green tea, or otherwise. Stanford had never missed an opportunity to chide you about it, yet in moments like these, when the world felt overwhelming and uncertain, the familiar warmth of the smoke provided a fleeting solace, a small rebellion against the chaos of your thoughts.
You couldn’t shake the image of your fiancé from your mind. The one person you had always relied on as your rock, your steadfast partner in all things logical and real, now seemed a stranger. He had become obsessed, shining a flashlight into your eyes, searching for something hidden in the depths of your pupils. Each time that harsh beam flickers across your eyes, it chips away at your sense of reality, leaving you to wonder if his strange behavior is a sign of something far darker lurking beneath the surface. The familiar comfort of the cigarette seemed almost to mock the confusion and dread that now defined your days, as if trying to find stability in a world that had become increasingly alien.
“[Y/n].” Ford’s voice sliced through your reverie, its suddenness filling you with an indescribable anxiety. The feeling was sharp and unsettling, a gnawing presence that you couldn't quite classify as rational or otherwise. It wrapped around you like a cold fog, clouding your thoughts and intensifying the sense of disorientation that had already taken root.
He stood behind you in the doorway, the light from behind casting a soft, almost ethereal glow around him. From this angle, you might have thought he looked perfect, a vision of calm and composure that seemed untouched by the chaos of your shared reality. The gentle halo of light made him appear almost otherworldly, a serene figure caught in a moment of stillness.
Yet, his appearance betrayed a different story. His hair was frantic and messy, a wild tangle of curls that seemed to reflect his inner turmoil. The bags under his eyes had deepened, etched by sleepless nights and relentless stress. Despite the disarray, there was a softness in his gaze, a look of tenderness you had missed with all your heart. It was a fleeting reminder of the warmth and affection that once defined your relationship, now overshadowed by the encroaching distance and disquiet that had come to dominate your lives.
You had tried so damn hard to stay quiet, to remain out of his way. You'd let him overwork himself to the bone if that’s what he wanted, even though it felt like a slow erosion of everything you once knew. You’d had the argument too many times to care by now, the words always seeming to fall on deaf ears. All you wanted was to avoid the inevitable confrontation, to give him space, even as his obsessive behavior grew ever more unsettling. 
"Stanford," was all you said in response, your voice barely more than a whisper. You lifted the cigarette from your lips, the smoke pooling around you like a hazy veil. As you exhaled, you cast a glance up the staircase, the familiar sight offering no answers, only a silent reminder of the space between you both.
“You’ve started smoking again,” he observed, his tone carrying a note of quiet surprise. The statement lingered in the air, the drifting smoke accentuating the distance between you. It was as if the sight of the cigarette in your hand was a reflection of the changes he could no longer ignore.
“Didn’t think you’d notice.”
The cigarette met your lips once more. You took a long drag, the smoke filling your lungs as your eyes remained locked with his. In that moment, it felt as if time itself had frozen, leaving you both suspended in the delicate space between old familiarity and the evolving distance that now defined your relationship.
“Of course I would,” he said, his voice carrying a soft tinge of regret.
You dropped the cigarette into the snow, watching as it hissed and sizzled against the cold ground. With a decisive step, you crushed it underfoot, pressing it into the snow for good measure. The smoldering embers were quickly extinguished, leaving only a faint trace of smoke lingering in the frosty air.
“Sorry,” was all you could manage to utter, the word feeling woefully inadequate in the weight of the moment. It hung between you, a simple apology for the complexities that neither of you could fully address.
“It’s cold. You’ll catch your death out here,” he muttered, his voice laced with a blend of concern and weariness. He stepped aside from the doorway, making way for you with a gentle gesture. The warmth from inside seemed to beckon, a stark contrast to the frigid night air.
You looked into his eyes, and he stared back, the moment stretching between you as if everything else had come to a halt. The world outside faded into a blur as snapshots of your relationship flickered through your mind—moments of laughter, shared dreams, and fleeting happiness. With each memory, you found yourself questioning what had gone wrong, what could have been different, and what measures you might have taken to alter the course of events.
In the midst of that frozen silence, a question slipped from your lips before you could even stop yourself: “Ford, are you still in love with me?” The words hung in the air, unexpected and raw, their weight adding a new layer of complexity to the already tense moment.
His head snapped towards you, eyes widening with a shock that seemed to crystallize in the cold night air. His gaze pierced into yours with a fierce intensity, as if your question had struck a chord deep within him. His eyebrows knit together in a furrow of confusion and apprehension, while his mouth tightened into a thin, resolute line. The change in his demeanor was palpable; his posture straightened as though he were bracing himself for a storm.
With a determined stride, he marched to stand beside you in the snow, the door to the house slamming shut behind him with a resonant thud that echoed through the night. The two of you stood together, the moonlight casting a ghostly glow upon the snow, which reflected a bluish light that danced across the scene. The snow-covered ground sparkled faintly, but the surrounding darkness clung to you both like a shroud.
He stared down at you as you stared at your feet, standing only an arm's length away, the proximity intimate and charged. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The only sound was the soft shushing of dormant branches swaying in the wind, their gentle rustling mingling with the quiet stillness of the night. The cold air wrapped around you both, creating a palpable silence that stretched between you, broken only by the occasional whisper of the wind through the snow-laden trees.
His hand reached out, fingers closing gently around your chin. With a deliberate motion, he angled your gaze upward, drawing your eyes away from the snowy expanse at your feet and into his. The touch was firm yet tender, guiding your focus to the depth of his own eyes. It was just like he used to do moments before he pressed his lips against yours.
Your eyes met his, and in that brief, suspended moment, you saw the glistening, unshed tears pooling in his gaze. They shimmered in pale light of the moon, their potential to fall betraying the fragile veneer of his composure. The raw, unguarded emotion in his eyes was a stark contrast to his usual facade, revealing a depth of sorrow and vulnerability that seemed to unravel the very essence of his being.
“Don’t you ever ask that again,” his voice cracked, the words trembling as they escaped his lips. He leaned forward, resting his forehead gently against yours, the closeness both intimate and overwhelming. In that tender contact, you felt a deep ache, missing his touch more than you had admitted to yourself. The warmth of his skin against yours, the vulnerability that he seldom showed, was a poignant reminder of what you had longed for but also feared.
Your breath caught in your throat, the tightness nearly choking you as emotions surged within, rendering you on the brink of tears. Frustration twisted inside you, mingling with a deep-seated ache as you grappled with having surrendered so effortlessly to the solace of his presence. The warmth of Ford’s touch, so familiar and comforting, had shattered your defenses with an almost unbearable intimacy.
In that raw, exposed moment, you recognized a profound truth: you loved Ford with a depth that went beyond reason. You understood him completely, and you would remain steadfast by his side. Even if it meant losing yourself in the process, he would always draw you in. It was a certainty you could not escape.
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lwwife · 6 months ago
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heyyy i was eondering if you could write something where the reader is a single mom (maybe 4/5 y/o daughter or son) and is a nurse or teacher and she meets alexia putellas and idkkk you choose! thank youuj if you dooooo
La reina
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Fluff - alexia x reader first meeting
Word count: 1,666
A/n: The accents on the words were playing up so i’m sorry they’re absent and the spanish is a little butchered😭
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“Senorita (miss) Putellas?” You call out, turning the page on your clipboard. Two women make their way towards you. “Alba?” you ask them, smiling brightly.
“Si (yes)” the younger of the two women smiles.
“Hola (hello), come right through, I’ll prep you and the doctor shall be in any minute”.
“Vale, gracias (okay, thank you)” Alba and the older woman follow you to the examination room.
“And are you Madre (mother)?” You turn to the other woman.
“Si” she smiles, taking a seat on one of the chairs, and grabs Alba’s hand.
“Mi hermana (my sister) is coming too, she’s just running a little late.”
“No problem, what’s her name? I’ll tell the front desk to direct her here when she arrives” you tell her.
“Alexia” she smiles.
-
“So as we proceed it’s very important that-“ the Doctor is suddenly interrupted by a frantic woman breaking through the door.
“Lo siento mucho hermana (I’m so sorry sister)” the woman speaks, slightly out of breath. The woman lowers her head slightly at the glare the Doctor gives her. You lift your head from your notes to see what the commotion is, and your jaw almost drops when your eyes lay on her. You lick your lips slightly and your eyes subtly scan over her body. She’s dressed in a matching tracksuit, a Barcelona badge plastered on both. That’s when you realise who she is. Alexia Putellas, la reina (the queen). Your 4-year-old daughter is infatuated with the footballer, posters plastered on her wall, backpacks, jerseys, and blankets with her face and red and blue splattered all over your house. “Lo siento” the woman whispers again, quietly taking a seat next to her mother. You let out a breathy laugh quietly and she catches your eyes as she lowers herself into the seat. You cover your mouth with your hand, holding in a laugh and she cracks a smile at you, lowering her head, red coating her cheeks slightly.
Throughout the rest of the consultation, you and Alexia, both catch each other staring, each quickly looking away each time. As the appointment comes to an end Alba, Eli, and the Doctor make their way to the door. You and Alexia behind them. She grabs the door, as the other three leave the room, stopping it from shutting. She turns to you, a shy smile on her face as she opens the door widely for you to walk through. You smile at her and lower your head, “Gracias (thank you)” you whisper.
“De nada, hermosa (you’re welcome, beautiful) she whispers, the complimentary word hardly audible. As you both exit the room she joins her family, as you come to the side of the Doctor.
“Alright Alba, we’ll see you next week” the Doctor smiles.
“Mucho gracias Doctor” she smiles back. As the trio make their way out of the practice, Alexia turns her head back slightly, she catches your eye, smiles softly and waves shyly before making her way out the door.
-
“Mama!” your daughter whines out from the couch, her adorable baby voice still making you smile after these years. The four-year-old calls out again softly, “Mama?”
“Yes, carino? (sweetheart)” you call back. Next thing you know, you hear little footsteps running across the floor, and you feel a gentle tug on your pants. You turn around, met with the sight of your four-year-old, Isabella looking up at you, her favourite stuffed toy wrapped up in her arm. You smile softly at her and run your hand through her soft brown hair.
“What are you making mama?” she questions you, getting on her tippy toes to peek up at the kitchen counter.
“Tortillas bebe (baby)” she gasps at your answer.
“Those are my favourite mama, gracias” She hugs your leg, and you giggle at her slightly.
“Por supesto querida (of course darling)” You hold the back of her head as she cuddles into you. You look down at her, dressed in her Barcelona pyjamas you are reminded of your meeting with the Catalonian women earlier today. You crouch slightly and lift her up, placing her on the kitchen counter. “Guess who I saw today?”
“Quien mama (who)?” she questions. You smile at her speaking your native tongue. Since her dad moved back to England, her Spanish has improved.
“Alexia” you whisper.
“No!” she gasps, bringing her hands over her mouth.
“Si bebe (baby), she came to Mama’s work today”
“Woah! Did you get foto?” she asks you, eyebrows raised expectantly.
“No querida (darling), I was working” You run your hands through her hair again and smile at her.
“Can I meet her? I’ll come work with you on Monday!”
“She won’t be there then querida (darling), she was just there today”.
“Oh, that’s okay, I’ll see her when I play for Barcelona!” She smiles happily.
“That you will mi amor (my love)”
-
“Querida (darling), what do you want?” you ask Isabella, standing in front of the display cabinet at your local café.
“Churros please mama” She sticks her tongue out the corner of her mouth excitedly.
“Vale (okay), do you want a drink?” but your daughter doesn’t answer, you turn to her to see she’s crouched down, fawning over a small and extremely fluffy dog.
“Le gustas (she likes you)” you hear a woman speak, and you lift your head, as does your daughter. Both of your mouths open.
“Woah” your daughter breathes out. Alexia smiles at your girl.
“Hola, como te ilamas? (Hello, what’s your name?)” Alexia crouches down to Isabella, still having not noticed you behind her.
“Isabella!” your daughter says proudly.
“Ah, Isabella, que bonito nombre (what a beautiful name)” Alexia smiles
“Gracias” Isabella smiles shyly, “Wait! Mama! Mama!” she tugs on your pants, “This is my mama”, she turns to Alexia, “You saw her yesterday! Mama say hi”.
Alexia stands back up, now face to face with you. She raises her eyebrows slightly, somewhat shocked to have seen you again. “Hola” she smiles.
“Hola” you reply, extremely shy.
“I’m glad to see you again,” she says, lowly. Isabella is now occupied with Alexia’s dog once again. “I never caught your name”.
“Y/n” you smile softly, still extremely nervous.
“Soy Alexia (I’m Alexia)” she replies.
“Trust me I know” you laugh. She smiles at you, showing her teeth. “Isabella loves you, you’re on her shirt” Alexia looks down, and spots her name and number spread across the young girl’s back. She smiles wide and turns back to you.
“Would you like to have a coffee with me, y/n?” Alexia asks you, her hands fiddling nervously.
“I um, well ah yes, si, why not?” you reply.
“Excelente, vale (Great, okay), uh, go take a seat I’ll grab the coffee.” She tells you.
“Oh no Alexia, I can get my own honestly it’s okay.” You object.
“Y/n, por favor (please)” She raises her eyebrows and places her hand on your arm, and suddenly you feel like you will do anything she asks.
“Vale (okay)” you smile.
“Isabella, would you like anything?” Alexia asks your daughter.
“No, it’s okay, mama getting me churro” She smiles up at her idol, before turning back to the puppy.
“Vale (okay)” Alexia laughs. You turn to go order your daughter her food when Alexia grabs your arm softly, “Y/n, I said I’ll get it”.
“Alexia, you really don’t have to, I can get Isabella’s”.
“I insist” she smiles, “por favour (please), sit down”.
You sigh at her, but smile nonetheless “Vale (okay)”
Alexia comes to the table you’ve chosen, with two coffees in hand and a plate of Churros balanced on her arm. You look at her, slightly impressed, and somewhat turned on at the sight of her arms on display.
“Gracias, Alexia, really,” you say to the Catalonian as she takes a seat opposite you. Your daughter is sitting next to you, the fluffy puppy on her lap, staring up at the young girl.
“por supuesto (of course)” she replies placing her hand on your arm once again, “Isabella, I have a surprise for you” she tells the young girl before sliding the churros over to her.
“Gracias Alexia! Mama, La Reina just bought me churros!” she whisper shouts to you.
You laugh softly at her cuteness, running your hand over her hair, “Aren’t you a lucky girl”, Alexia smiles softly at the site of the pair of you, finding your motherly role extremely attractive.
“Does she have a papa?” Alexia asks, and your eyes widen at her question. “Mierda, siento (shit, sorry), I uh, I just meant um” Alexia takes a deep breath and stops when she feels your warm hand on hers.
“We are separated, he lives in England. It’s just the two of us.” You tell her. Alexia grins at your response.
“Good… I mean, uh joder (fuck)” Isabella’s head whips up at her language.
“You owe me un euro (one euro) Alexia!”
“Isabella!” you snap. Alexia laughs, before handing your daughter the owed money. “Alexia!” you snap at her this time. Your daughter and Alexia look at each other and giggle.
“Lo siento (I’m sorry), y/n” she smirks at you. You roll your eyes playfully.
“How about you la Reina, anyone special for you?” you question her, hopeful the answer will be no.
“No, not at the moment,” she tells you. “Why do you ask? Are you interested?” she teases you, knocking her foot against your leg playfully. You stutter, unable to form a coherent sentence. “I’m kidding y/n”, she laughs. You smile at her, tight-lipped. “Although I can’t say I’d be opposed, eres increiblemente hermosa (you are incredibly beautiful)” She licks her lips and smiles at you once again and grabs your hand.
Your breath hitches, and it take you a good few seconds to compose yourself. You take a deep breath before speaking. “Would you like to come on a walk with us?” you ask her.
She rubs her thumb across the back of your hand, “I would love to” she whispers.
-
A/n: I don’t speak Spanish so I apologise if I butchered, I tried my best😭
I hope you all enjoyed! As always, kind feedback, as well as questions, conversations, or requests are always welcome in my inbox!
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daycourtofficial · 9 months ago
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Uncle Catastrophe
Summary: based on this request - your day out on the town is interrupted by a shadow who brings you to a very rattled Azriel taking care of Nyx
Author’s note: this is cute and fun I might do something similar with an older Nyx bc why not
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The revered shadowsinger.
A male who is battle hardened, whose scars sing legends of a cruel male who lacks sympathy.
The revered shadowsinger. Brought down by a babe.
Cauldron boil him, he thinks, sorting through the massive stack of parenting books Feyre and Rhysand had bought to prepare for Nyx.
Now his scarred hands comb through the books, searching for what’s wrong with the princeling. He carries Nyx around in his arms, his tiny hiccuping body making Azriel’s thoughts spiral further with each violent hiccup.
The morning was fine - Nyx was an easy babe, he hasn’t displayed any powers yet, and he loved his family so much. Especially his uncles who shared the wings fixed to his tiny back.
Nyx’s gaze and hands always found their ways to Cassian and Azriel’s wings. The former would shoot his wings out to show his nephew just how large they were, the latter wraps his wings around Nyx, enveloping the two of them in a soft darkness.
Nyx had even fallen asleep on Azriel’s chest. He had laid down on the sofa next to Nyx’s crib in the living room, but the princeling kept babbling, waving his arms around frantically, fluttering his tiny wings. Eventually Azriel gathered he just wanted company, so he laid down on the plush sofa, Nyx curled up on his chest.
The babe lasted maybe 3 minutes before falling asleep. Azriel stayed completely still, long legs stretched out, feet dangling off the end. His shadows provided a comforting weight to the both of them, causing the shadowsinger’s eyes to grow heavier, until eventually he was fast asleep.
He woke up to a violent stirring on his chest, the babe in his arms hiccuping more violently than he thought possible. He didn’t let worry consume him until after 15 minutes of nonstop hiccuping, when he dispatched his shadows to search for books on babes.
-
You were shopping in Velaris, a new stack of books tucked into your arm when a tiny shadow wizzes up to you, circling around your body, its cool touch sending shivers up your skin.
It twirls around your body, as if inspecting you, before wrapping around your wrist and pulling you forward.
You chuckle, allowing the shadow to drag you wherever it sees fit.
It brings you to the townhouse and opens the door for you. You thank the shadow, and it gently caresses your cheek in a kiss before darting through the entryway.
You step inside, calling out, “hello?” Your voice carries through the house, until you see a head of onyx curls peak out over the threshold.
Looking as beautiful as ever, tortoiseshell glasses perched on his nose, Azriel looks at you, puzzled, before he looks at his group of shadows that follow him everywhere.
You walk towards him and he seems to be scolding one of them, his voice dropping as you got closer.
“I got ambushed by one of your shadows in the street. Do they do that to all the girls or just the pretty ones?” You ask, a light tease in your voice.
Azriel rolls his eyes at you, but continues on with whatever he’s doing.
You know something’s wrong because he doesn’t give your cheek a kiss as you walk past, so you look around trying to discern what could be wrong.
“Is everything okay, sweetheart?”
You turn to look at him, noticing his hair is in disarray. His hair always had a perfect level of messy to it - looking slightly mused, but as if every curl was meticulously placed. Now it looks like a mess of onyx on his head.
He sighs, looking at you. “I’ve been trying to figure out what’s wrong with Nyx.”
You notice that there are books strewn about the room, all on fae babes, all open to their indexes to search for key words.
“He won’t stop hiccuping.”
You try not to laugh, especially not with how seriously Azriel looked at you.
“Is he in his nursery?” You ask, moving towards the stairs.
“Yes,” he says, following behind you.
“Hi, Nyxy,” you coo, and the young babe just smiles at your attention, a tiny hiccup jolting his entire body. You get close to him, his arms extending to you as you pick him up.
He nuzzles into you, his wings lightly twitching at your attention. You rub his back, looking at Azriel as you do so.
“You know this is normal, right?” You ask, pacing the room with the young princeling in your arms.
“There’s no way it’s normal!”
You roll your eyes, “I’m a healer, babe, you could have asked me.” Your eyes move to Nyx’s, violet eyes peering back at you.
“It’s my job to know all about babes,” you say, fingers rubbing against Nyx’s chubby tummy. He giggles in response, and Azriel sits in the rocking chair in the corner, hands going over his face.
He sighs, clearly frustrated, and you can’t help but feel like his frustration isn’t just about Nyx.
“Is everything okay?” You ask, taking your eyes off of Nyx’s violet eyes to meet hazel ones.
Azriel sighs, coming over to you, burying his head into your neck as he wraps his arms, and wings, around you and Nyx. Inside of the little cocoon, Azriel mutters, “I wanted to prove to you that I could do this.”
You had a hard time hearing him as he was mumbling into your shoulder, so you ask, “I’m sorry, what was that?”
Azriel’s hands tightened slightly on your waist, repeating himself, and you ask, “that you could do what?”
His breath tickles your neck, “that I could do the whole “having a babe” thing.”
Your brows furrow, confused where this sudden insecurity cropped up from.
“Are you pregnant?”
He sighs, ignoring you, “I just wanted to prove that I could care for Nyx without your help for a bit. I know you’re a healer, but I don’t want you to find me incompetent.”
His shoulders slump a bit, “I know we’ve never really talked about it, but I guess I wanted to prove to you and to myself that.. that I could. That I could be soft and loving.”
You reach an arm around his waist, pressing Nyx between the two of you. The young prince hiccups, startling both of you.
“Oh, Azzy. I would never find you incompetent.”
He huffs, “and yet you came bursting through the door to help.”
“Because one of your shadows got me. Listen, babes are hard. And yeah there’s a lot to learn about taking care of them, but I fully believe you could do it.”
He lifts his head up, searching your eyes for some deception.
Nyx coos in your arms, and Azriel lifts one of the hands from your waist to cradle his head. The babe leans into Azriel’s touch, soaking in the attention from his uncle.
You smile at the two of them, “No one is born knowing exactly what to do or how to take care of someone else.”
His eyes return to you, his hand still fixed on Nyx’s head.
“But we can learn together, okay?”
You look up at him and a soft smile grazes his lips. “This isn’t fair - you have a head start on the material. Your job is literally taking care of others.”
You giggle, causing Nyx to shriek in delight.
“Guess you’ll just have to pick up more babysitting hours.”
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amazingmsme · 1 month ago
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Ruthlessness in Other Ways
AN: day 14, the day we’ve all been waiting for!!! I wanna give a huge thanks to 😈 anon for helping with the title, it couldn’t be more perfect! Poseidon really puts Odysseus through the wringer with this one! I let myself get mean with it, lol. Took a lot of inspiration from the manwhore au, so that explains the sexual tension. Slight warnings in the beginning for mild violence & descriptions of drowning. Other than that, there’s nothing you need to look out for. Hope y’all enjoy, this one was super fun & flustering! Sorry this was later than I planned, I’ve been super busy!
Odysseus was thrown into the water from the force of the lightning bolt, and he plunged deep below the surface with splinters and debris from his ship. He sank deeper and deeper until Odysseus regained consciousness. He opened his eyes and gasped for air, gulping in sea water. He  desperately tried to preserve what air remained in his lungs. He frantically swam towards the surface, but felt himself sinking further. He was caught in a rip current, and he was yanked further below the waves.
His lungs ached, his vision was fading, he was starting to panic as he fought to get to the surface. His head was throbbing, ears popping, lungs about to burst, and finally, they filled with water.
The last thing he saw was a dark shadow swimming towards him. It can't end like this...
~~~
Odysseus awoke with a splitting headache, but he had no time to take in his surroundings before he was coughing up sea water. He wretched and gasped for breath, only then realizing he could only lean forward so far. He felt stone pressed against his back, his arms chained to the wall.
"That's it, hack it up," a cold voice spoke from behind, slapping an even colder hand on his back. Odysseus went stiff, eyes shooting wide open.
"No..."
A deep, sly chuckle sounded too close to his ear for comfort.
"Hello again."
Poseidon grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back to look him in the eye. He smiled at the pained hiss that escaped his victim, relishing in the fear etched on his face.
"Poseidon! I-" he was cut off with a sharp slap across the face.
"I'm not interested in conversation. I'd much rather make you beg for mercy," he growled, grabbing Odysseus by the jaw.
"Really? I thought mercy wasn't exactly your thing," Odysseus tried to remain defiant and cocky, refusing to give the God what he wants. He should've known better.
"I never said I'd show you any," he sneered, allowing himself to get closer. He grazed his claws over his throat as he let go of his jaw, brushing off the shudder and twitch as fear. What else would it be?
"Please, if this is about your son-"
"You think I still care about that?" Poseidon let out a low, snide chuckle. 
"What?"
"I just don't like you, Odysseus. And your suffering is just so fun to watch," he spoke casually, but wore a downright sinister grin. He pressed his trident against his chest, not enough to pierce his skin, but the threat was there. He drug the weapon down his body ever so slowly, slightly digging into the soft flesh.
He jerked back with a gasp, sucking in his stomach as he turned away, closing his eyes for good measure. Poseidon yanked him around by the hair once more.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you," he ordered. Odysseus forced his eyes open, meeting the God's piercing gaze. His eyes were full of fear and uncertainty, yet he had the gall to smile at him.
He gripped his hair tighter, pulling at the roots until he heard him yelp in pain.
"Wanna tell me what's so funny?" he asked in a low, threatening tone. Odysseus shook his head frantically.
"N-nothing!" he stammered, pressing himself against the wall of the cave.
"Then wipe that fucking smirk off your face before I slap it off," he threatened. Before Odysseus had the chance to answer, a swift backhand was delivered to his cheek. He could swear the webbing between his fingers made it sting even more.
"It would be so easy to just split you open," Poseidon mused, drawing a line down the center of his belly with the blunt tips of the trident. He really needed to learn how to sharpen his weapons better, because all Odysseus could focus on was how bad it tickled.
"Just get on with it then," Odysseus sighed, admitting defeat, squirming against the wall. Regardless of how blunt it was, it was still sharp enough to get the job done.
"No. You don't get the peace of a quick death," Poseidon said, pulling the trident back.
"Lucky me," he mumbled to himself. Poseidon sneered and lurched forward, metal clanging on the ground as he tossed the weapon aside. He slammed Odysseus against the wall, one hand gripping the base of his jaw while the other held him back by the shoulder.
"What was that?" he growled in his ear, warm breath ghosting over his skin. Odysseus gasped and tried to twist away, scrunching his neck. Poseidon's thumb rested on the edge of his armpit from where he gripped his shoulder.
Odysseus bit his lip and tried to turn away, but the hand on his jaw didn't allow it. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his breath came out in quick huffs through his nose. His arms were straining at their restraints as he tried to lean away, but... not in the way Poseidon expected.
He studied his expression, ready to scold him once more, until he noticed where his hand was.
Oh. Ooooh.
He looked back at his captive, a sadistic smile stretching across his face. He moved his hand down, raking his claws over his ribs, noticing the way Odysseus struggled to mask his reactions and pass off his smile as a pained grimace.
Things just got a lot more interesting.
Odysseus felt a chill run up his spine when he heard a slow, deep chuckle.
"Oh this is rich," he heard him say, and the hand around his throat forced him to look up. There was a sick, gleeful kind of curiosity shining in the God's eyes that hadn't been there before.
"What do you want from me?" he managed to ask. Poseidon only smirked.
"At first, I thought I wanted to hurt you. I had every intention of killing you slowly and leaving you to drown. But now, I'm second guessing myself," he said, leaning into the captain's personal space. Odysseus tried to lean away as much as he could.
"W-why the change of heart?"
Poseidon laughed, a contorted, garbled sound. "Humiliation is a far better punishment for you. Wouldn't you agree?"
"What?" Odysseus shook his head, brows knit together in confusion. No. There was no way he meant that.
"Tell me, king of Ithica. You wouldn't happen to be ticklish, would you?" he asked, curling his fingers ever so slightly so they dug into his ribs.
Odysseus choked on a gasp, jerking away from the touch as a blush quickly spread across his cheeks.
"And don't lie to a God," Poseidon added. He relished in the mix of fear, confusion and embarrassment on his face as he shook his head.
"Don't, please! Why that?" Odysseus stammered, pressing himself against the wall and staring him up and down. He barked out a quick laugh when both hands grabbed his ribcage before clamping his mouth shut to prevent anymore unwanted sounds from escaping.
"Because someone needs to break that fragile little ego of yours, and I look forward to watching you scream and writhe," he taunted as he began tapping his fingers against his ribs.
His breath hitched in his chest, and he instinctively twitched away. Poseidon smirked and scratched between each bone with sharp claws, and the first muffled giggles started to slip out. Odysseus tried to hold in his laughter as long as he could, but it was a futile effort.
"Trying to tough it out? Go ahead, it just makes it all the more fun when you finally break." Poseidon raked his claws up and down his ribs relentlessly, pausing to trace and scratch the spaces in between. Odysseus yelped, twisting side to side in his bonds. His breath was labored from the effort it took to maintain composure, and he had to bite down on his lip to stop the giggles from spilling out. Poseidon wrapped both hands around his entire ribcage and dug in with vibrating claws. The reaction was instant.
Odysseus finally cracked with a snort, releasing all the laughter that had been trapped in his chest. It was a rich, full sound, rare to those even among his inner circle, but now it took on a more desperate tone. He leaned away as far as the chains would allow, twisting uselessly.
"Really? That's all it took? I was honestly hoping you'd struggle a little longer," he teased in a purring, almost sultry tone. "But you mortals are so fragile, so sensitive," he slowly walked his fingers up his torso like they were climbing stairs. Odysseus shook his head as breathless giggles poured freely. "So easy to break."
Poseidon's hands jumped up to drill in his exposed hollows, kneading the muscles and scratching delicate skin. He threw his head back, cackling loudly as he desperately yanked on his arms.
"NOHOHO! J-just gohoho bahack to hitting mehehe!" Odysseus bargained, trying to appeal to his violent nature. Poseidon hummed in thought.
"I don't think so. Pain is an old friend of yours, isn't she? You've come to expect it around every turn. At some point, pain stops being effective at getting the point across," his voice was cold and emotionless, yet the sadistic glimmer in his eyes was proof that he was enjoying every second of this. He rubbed circles with his thumbs in the center of his underarms, sending Odysseus into wild hysterics. The chains rattled as he thrashed around, tugging on his arms with all the strength he had. His mouth hung open in a wide smile, nose scrunching as he snorted. His laughter was loud and deep, with a beautifully frantic undertone.
"But I doubt you were expecting this," to emphasize his point, he scratched up and down his exposed hollows, lightening his touch ever so slightly, but compensating by speeding up. Odysseus threw his head back with a giggly shriek, arching his back and jerking away.
"Confusion and utter humiliation are rather powerful tools of persuasion, wouldn't you agree?" he purred in his ear, making Odysseus squeal and scrunch his neck. Poseidon chuckled at the sound, reaching a hand up to flutter under his chin.
"N-nohoho!" Odysseus giggled and shook his head, slamming his chin down for protection. Poseidon smirked and cocked his head.
"Oh? You don't agree?" he asked as he began tracing up and down the length of his arms, from his pits all the way to his wrists. He watched the way Odysseus giggled and twitched as he lightly grazed the skin. His arms shook, muscles flexing as gentle fingers passed over. "It's not eating you alive that I'm doing this to you? That you're crumbling at the hands of a God, able to do nothing but laugh and scream? Your thoughts aren't racing, wondering why I'm not ripping you to shreds?" he taunted directly in his ear, lips ghosting over the skin.
Odysseus hated how true his words were. He clenched his jaw and growled through his laughter, "Shut uhup! Just shuhut uhuhup!"
"You think you're in any position to make demands of a God?" Poseidon questioned, and even his breath tickled.
"NO! Nohoho, I wahasn't-" he cut himself off with a scream that morphed into helpless laughter when the hands moved down to knead at his belly and sides. He twisted side to side, trying to hide his face behind a restrained arm. His hair was a mess, wet and matted to his forehead. Rosy cheeks were carved with dimples, and crows feet wrinkled at the corners of his eyes. He almost looked cute, in an endearing, pathetic sort of way.
"Let me make one thing clear: I'm in control," he taunted, gripping Odysseus by the hips roughly. He yelped and instinctively bucked his hips to get away, snorting and doubling over as much as he could when he gave another squeeze.
Poseidon arched a brow and smirked down at him. "What's wrong, did I find a bad spot?" he taunted, squeezing up his sides and drilling his thumbs in the divots of his hips.
"Nohoho plehease!" he shrieked and writhed in his binding, unable to escape the relentless touch.
"What did I say about lying?" Poseidon chuckled sadistically at his own joke.
"Plehehease, just lehehet me gohoho! Ihihi'm sorRYYYY!" His voice jumped an octave when sharp claws pricked and tapped against his hips. Full belly laughs gave way to shrill giggles, and the sounds he was making amused Poseidon to no end.
"Awww, what a sweet sentiment. Almost as sweet as those giggles of yours," he teased with a sly smirk, sharp teeth peaking out from under his lip. Of course he wasn't actually complimenting him, he only said it to get under his skin. "Too bad I don't care."
Odysseus flushed and stared at him in shock. "I-I dohohon't giggle!" he tried to sound defiant, but the giggles pouring from his mouth negated the effect.
"Denial's a good look on you. Next, I bet you'll try and say you're not ticklish," Poseidon snickered, reaching a hand up to tease his neck and ears. Odysseus snorted and scrunched his shoulders.
"Nohoho!" he tried to deny, shrieking when a claw traced the shell of his ear. "Stohohop! Plehehease, juhust stohohop!" he pleaded, shaking his head.
"That's right, keep begging. Not that it'll help," he let out a raspy chuckle, cupping his face with both hands. Odysseus was forced to look up at Poseidon as he squirmed helplessly, giggling himself silly as he scribbled around his ears and neck. No matter which way he twisted, the tickling never stopped.
"You humans are so sensitive; so fun to toy with," the God mused as his hands trailed back down his body. "So easy to break," he squeezed his hips again just to watch him buck and snort. "And yet, you all think you can win."
"Ihihi'm sohohohorry! I-it wohohon't hahappen again, I swehehear!" Odysseus bargained futilely.
"Oh, but it will. That's just the way it works," Poseidon explained, digging his claws into his thighs. Odysseus gasped and jerked beneath the threatening touch. "You'll get yourself into trouble and try to work your way around it, but you'll always lose." He slowly scratched down strong thighs, earning a ticklish scream and a violent twitch.
"Fuck! Noho, you cahahan't! N-not thehehere!" he begged through growing hysterics. His words only made Poseidon more curious as he began squeezing up and down his legs.
Odysseus squealed and jumped away from the touch, pressing against the wall of the cave and kicking out futilely. Poseidon looked him up and down with a hungry, scrutinizing gaze, evil smirk twisting into a sharp, dangerous smile.
"Awww, what's the matter? Too ticklish here?" he asked, raking his claws down the captain's thighs as he knelt before him. That alone drew out a panicked bark of laughter as he twitched away.
"N-no! Ihihi mehean- shihihit, stohohop!" he cut himself off with a snort as sharp claws delicately traced his inner thighs. Breathy giggles became hysterical laughter as the soft scribbling got faster and added more pressure. He threw his head back, practically dancing in place as he tried to escape the unending torture.
"Just look at you, barely able to speak. How pathetic," he taunted, scratching higher up his legs, enjoying the way his voice changed pitched. He pinched back down the muscle, drawing out a few giggly snorts. Poseidon couldn't help but comment on it.
"Those are some pretty funny noises you're making. I think I'll stay right here," he kneaded deep into his thighs, and Odysseus practically screamed.
"NOHOHO PLEHEHEASE! IHIHI'M SOHOHORRYYYY!" he threw his head back, cackling wildly. His legs gave out, but he was still held upright by his chains. His legs kicked and writhed in Poseidon's grip, his sanity slipping away with each passing second.
"Good," he growled, raking his nails down his inner thighs just to make him squeal. "But I'm not stopping any time soon. By all means, whine and beg, but don't expect it to help much." From this position, his bare, squirming stomach was right in front of his face. He grabbed Odysseus from behind, making sure he couldn't move away before biting his hip.
He let out a piercing shriek, followed quickly by frantic hysterics. He writhed and twisted in his hold, tugging on his arms with all his might. His vision went blurry as tears streamed down his cheeks, and he closed his eyes so he didn't have to watch his own torment.
Poseidon grazed his teeth across delicate skin, stretched taught over the bone. He nipped and nibbled at his hips, allowing his tongue to flick and trace the contours of his waist. That really seemed to drive him mad, so he continued nibbling along his hips and belly while his hands returned to his thighs.
Odysseus wailed in ticklish agony, babbling incoherently for mercy. He couldn't form a single coherent thought, legs trembling from the relentless onslaught.
"Ohoho shihihit- NOHOHO! FUCK- NOHOT THAHAHAT!" his arms strained to hold him up, leaning against the wall for support. Poseidon drilled circles where his hips and legs met, scribbling along the backs of his thighs. His back arched and he tried to jerk away, only for his leg to be trapped under a strong arm.
"Why, is this a bad spot?" he cooed, scribbling behind his knee all the way up the back of his thigh. His muscles quivered with every pinch and stroke, and his voice periodically cut out.
Poseidon slowed his touches to give him the chance to breathe. Odysseus gasped for air between helpless giggles, legs writhing in his grip as his claws scribbled against the sensitive skin. He hiccuped and snorted when he'd zero in on a particularly sensitive spot.
"I asked you a question," he growled, going back to clawing mercilessly, just to remind him how much worse it could be. Odysseus screamed and thrashed.
"YEHEHES OHOHOKAHAHAY? STOHOHOP!"
Poseidon smirked as he slowed back down, focusing on his right leg. Odysseus whined and snickered as the feather light touches clouded his brain. It was almost worse than when he just dug in. At least then his voice didn't sound so shrill and broken.
"Plehehe- staha- stohohohop! I-I cahahan't!" he pleaded through breathless giggles.
"You humans are hilariously pathetic. So weak and soft, unable to hold out against even the softest of touches," he taunted. Odysseus was limp and pliable, yet still struggled, providing a map of his most ticklish spots.
He continued the light scribbling, spidering his way to the tops of his knees. Odysseus snorted and kicked, laughter jumping up an octave. Poseidon smirked, meeting his eyes to flash him a smug wink before digging in. He clawed ruthlessly at his knees and the tops of his thighs, relishing in the resulting shriek.
He leaned in to whisper in a deep, threatening tone, "I hope you didn't think we were done. There's so many places I haven't even tried. And I plan on keeping you here as long as I like."
"What? N-nohoho y-you cahahan't just do thahat!" Odysseus insisted, eyes wide with fear as he frantically shook his head.
"Actually, I can. And there's nothing you can do about it." He grabbed his feet, wiggling his fingers dangerously close to the soles. "Nothing but laugh."
Odysseus was once again sent spiraling into hysterics, forced to accept his fate.
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annebd · 2 days ago
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if you or a loved one have been emotionally devastated by max verstappen's choice of emergency contact, you may be entitled to financial compensation. ~600 words
Daniel is in his kitchen when he gets the call. He’d reheated last night’s leftovers for lunch and is standing over the sink, hashafashasha-ing an overheated bite of Mongolian beef and broccoli, when he feels his phone start to buzz in his back pocket.
He’s about to kill the call- at first glance, he can tell that the caller ID isn’t someone in his contacts- before he notices. CHPG. It takes him a moment, and then he makes the connection: Centre Hospitalier Princesse Grace. Who the hell is calling him from the hospital?
He swallows quickly (regretting it as the still too warm bite burns on the way down) and answers. 
“Hello?”
The call itself can’t be longer than about two minutes or so, but Daniel remembers almost none of it. Just flashes: Nurse calling. Max. Emergency contact. He needs Daniel. 
He’s out the door in seconds, leftovers forgotten on the counter.
The nurse at the station in the hospital lobby directs him to the third floor, where another nurse directs him to the east wing, where another nurse directs him to room 302. No one will fucking tell him anything, and each step towards Max has him growing more and more frantic.
He steels himself before rapping his knuckles softly on the frame of the door to room 302. He doesn’t know what to expect, but he’s bracing for impact- his brake lines are cut and he’s heading straight for the wall. He doesn’t wait for an answer and pushes open the door, only to freeze midstep, halfway into the room.
Max is sitting up in the hospital bed with his laptop propped up on the tray table across his legs. He’s pecking away at the keyboard with two fingers, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration. He seems perfectly fine, except for the giant ice pack wrapped around his face. His cheeks are blush pink and puffy. He looks like a grumpy cherub.
“Max, what the fuck.” It’s not a question. Daniel is pretty sure he’s had at least half of a heart attack in the time between getting that call and now, and Max is… he’s fine.
Max looks up from his T-rex typing and beams at Daniel. The effect is tempered by the ice pack, which makes his cheeks squish up like a chipmunk. Daniel would be incredibly endeared if he weren’t mostly still running high on adrenaline. “You came!”
“Of course I came, Max! What the fuck? They wouldn’t tell me what happened. Just that I’m your emergency contact and that you needed me here.”
“They’re, of course, just being so cautious, Daniel,” Max says with a roll of his eyes. “I told them I could drive myself- it was just a small operation. I don’t need my teeth to drive.”
“Max. Did you have your wisdom teeth removed and not tell anyone and then have the hospital call me to come get you?” Daniel can feel his knees start to wobble as the adrenaline rushes out of him in a single wave. He slides ungracefully into one of the visitor’s chairs at the foot of the bed. It’s surprisingly comfortable.
“I told Rupert. He wanted me to go and run today for my training. But I told him that I could not because I had to do this.”
Daniel is about to argue that that’s not what he meant, before Max continues. “And then the doctor said I could not drive myself even though I definitely could, Daniel. But they said they had to call someone I trust. To drive me.”
“That’s me?” Daniel asks. “Someone you trust?” They’ve never talked about it. Never discussed what this is. What they are to each other.
“Of course,” Max replies, as though it’s the simplest thing in the world.
Of course.
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ellieslittleburrow · 7 months ago
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Summary : Your phone dies just when you lied to your father about where you are. How does he react when he finds you?
Warnings : Being chased by somebody
A/N : woo woo! First Beau fic, thanks to @dreamerbouquet 🪷🪷 alsooooooooo, i'm so angry at how my writing is so repetitive yall 😭 i hate it i need a change.
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-- Your phone dies before you get to send that last text..
Fucking hell. You just lied too-you weren't right...quite on Ousel Falls, you're still in the woods near by, limping your way out as you dragged your bicycle through the mud.
You SOMEHOW trip over something and fly forward, landing over a broken branch that brushes your skin just enough to remove it.
Fuckking hell..
Thankfully, you know your way through the vast space and so you walk...and walk, spinning around when a creaking sounds behind you..."Hello?" You say, frantically looking around. Dear god...
Another creak sounds and a figure appears from afar, seemingly running towards you. A gasp escapes your lips and you push away the bicycle before spriting forward, in spite of your aching foot. You run and hop over branches, looking over your shoulder at the person running after you.
You didn't have time to back down, you thought of your father, what he'd do-Thankfully you're only a little under a mile away from the entrance of the woods, and so your feet spring faster-and as you look back once more, you bump into something-which you push away.
"N-No." You push agaisnt it-
"I'ts me, it's me-it's dad."
"We have to go they're com-"
"Calm down, calm down honey-it's just a bunch of kids" Your dad shakes your body gently, leaning close to you to get your attention. "They ran away already, just a bunch of kids."
You take a breather, processing as your heatbeat starts slowing down...
"Come here." He says, pulling you into his chest, one hand envelopping your back and the other resting over the back of your head. "Dear god...you scared me-i thought-" He shut himself up, proceeding with a long sigh.
You pull away from him, biting your lip in an attempt to dtop your quivering chin. "I'm sorry...i-" a sob escapes your throat and you lean back into his chest- Relief has finally hit you and your muscles relaxed... "i'm sorry i didn't mean to scare you-or for my phone to die i-"
He interrupts you, pulling you away firmly. And when your eyes meet, a wave of emotions travels through his eyes. He looks worried and sad and relieved and angry, all of which overwhelm you.
"What did i say about going to the woods alone?" His voice is firm. But the tenderness in his furrowed eyebrows isn't. "What did i say about that?" He demands a response and you just don't have one.
"I-i m-i don't know-I I didn't take it that seriously-" you stop yourself, hell..you just exposed yourself-you shouldn't have.. "i'm sorry."
Your dad rubs your back "It's okay.." He rests his chin over your head, temporarily planting kisses on it.
"It's okay...i'm here now." Your dad reassures you one last time before stepping back. "Do we need to go to the hospital?" He kneels down when his attention lands on your bleeding leg.
"No, no need for that." You reassure him back, staggering back when he held your leg up a little high. You rested your hand on his shoulder, balancing yourself. "I'm okkay."
You're not-You wince as your father examines what turns out to be an open cut.
"Can you walk?"
You roll your eyes. "Dad, it's not that serious it's just a c-"
"Can you or can you not?" He cuts you off.
"I caaaan..." You groan in annoyance. It's a lie but-he's already tired enough
"Okay....let's go then. If i notice you're limping i'm carrying you back." He orders and a smile appears on your face.
"Okay" You can't fight that. "Thank you."
"I'm...i'm just glad you're okay, honey."
-----
I wish i could've made this one longer. But i'm too tired. Anyway, kissies yall, i hope you enjoyed reading this 🥀🥀🥀❤️❤️❤️
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mire1li · 9 months ago
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You tried to steal my daughter so I'm stealing your mother!
I have finally done it! This is Alastor's mother x Lucifer (Fem!Reader, as implied) Part 2!
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It was another normal day in hell. Or… as normal as it could get, at least… It was another normal day in hell. Or… as normal as it could get, at least…
You were with everyone, at the hotel. Though everyone, except a few people, seemed to be in their rooms today. Well, it seemed only natural since Al was in a ‘mood’ again.
Niffty, being the chaotic entity she is, was running around, stabbing bugs and roaches crawling around when Lucifer came by.
“It’s the ultimate bad boy!!!” She exclaimed running towards him, ignoring all the bugs left.
He had to fly up into the air to get away from her!
“Dad? What are you doing here?” Charlie asked, entering the lobby as she heard the… commotion.
“Charlie! Get this demon away from me!”
“We’re all demons here”
“Yes, but… she! She is a nightmare!”
You were in the corner, naturally, Alastor clinging to you. The two of you were simply watching everything unfold.
“Calm down, dad! It’s not like she bites”
“YET! Do you even see those teeth?”
“Al, could you…?” Charlie turned to the two of you, pointing at Niffty, bringing Lucifer’s attention to you, in the process.
Alastor scowled, or so you thought, as he kept that grin on his face.
“Not possible! Niffty is a free soul!”
“You literally own her soul!”
“I may own her soul but that doesn’t mean she gets no liberty!~”
“Please?”
Alastor hugged you tighter, you petting him, ignoring Charlie.
“Alastor, darling, could you do something about Niffty for me?” You intervened, looking at him.
“But Mother, Lucifer is more than capable of dealing with it himself!”
“You wouldn’t do it for me?”
“…Fine. Niffty step away from Lucifer.” He rolled his eyes as he said Lucifer’s name.
Fortunately enough, Niffty grumbled something and picked up her dagger, going back to killing roaches, very reluctantly.
Lucifer landed back on the ground and walked over to you and Al, pushing him off of you and hugging you instead.
“Hello, my dear! It has been so long!”
“Luci! It’s only been a few days”
“Mother, what do you mean ‘a few days’? I thought you haven’t seen him for at least a few months?”
“Oh, right… you- hm… yeah, I forgot to tell you, darling”
“Yes, that’s because she’s been sneaking out to see ME whilst you’re busy!~” Lucifer spoke, really only adding fuel to the fire… you could tell they’d probably be at each others throats if you didn’t, somehow… get them away from each other.
“Uhh… Dad!” Charlie frantically waved, getting in between them. A perfect distraction!
“Yes, Charlie?”
“I… uh… um… I need help with something!”
“What do you need… help… with?”
“Just… just something in the hotel! Right [Name]?!”
“Why are you bringing me into this?”
She looked at you pleadingly, her eyes slightly wide and an awkward smile on her face, lightly looking back and forth between the other two.
“Right! Yes, it’s an urgent matter! Charlie and Lucifer can go deal with that!”
“Yes! Let’s go, Dad!” She exclaimed, slightly jumping and grabbing Lucifer by the arm, dragging him into one of the many hotel corridors.
“Mother.”
“Yess… Alastor?”
“Why would you go out with him when you have me to entertain you!”
“Darling, we already spend lots of time together, and besides, I need to socialize with more than just one demon”
He was quite clearly not too happy about the whole situation but decided to drop it for the time being. You lightly poked his nose, one of his ears twitching at the action.
He was in a slightly better mood after that, having forgotten about Lucifer.
Meanwhile, Charlie was still in the process of trying to convince Lucifer that there was an issue… though she failed, and ultimately, he began heading back to the lobby, he wanted to flirt with you again, of course! What better activity for the King of Hell, himself, than to flirt with his rivals' mother?
Charlie, upon noticing him turning back, ran to the lobby, ahead of him, deciding that she’d try to pull Alastor away from you… though she knew her efforts would most likely prove futile considering how clingy he was to you today.
So she used force.
“Alastorrrr! I have shopping I need to do! Let’s go!”
Alastor seemed almost like a cat in that situation, Charlie pulling him away with all her might, and him trying to get back to you no matter the cost.
“Have a fun time!” You waved to them as she dragged him out the door and down to the main streets.
“What… was that all about?”
"Hm? Oh, Charlie just kidnapped Alastor, it's nothing too serious, he'll probably be back soon"
"With Charlie… right?"
"Probably" you shrugged as Lucifer looked at the door of the hotel, Charlie and Alastor nowhere in sight by now.
"Okayy… well… now that we're alone!~" Lucifer spoke, smugly walking towards you and placing an arm around your shoulder, smirking.
"Are you going to use another one of those absolutely terrible pick-up lines again?"
"You know it! Also, they are not that bad!"
"Oh they absolutely are"
"No, and I can prove it! I have thought of another one specifically for you!"
He chuckled and cleared his throat in preparation.
"Are you a rubber duck? Because I wanna make you squeal!~"
"My point stan-"
"Bow chika wowow!"
You couldn't help but laugh at his interruption, it was quite amusing how hard he tried to impress you sometimes, although it was also quite admirable, in some way.
"Are you-" Lucifer began, when Alastor appeared in between you two, forcing Lucifer off of you.
"I believe that is quite enough of that, haha!"
"What- ok. As I was saying" Lucifer grumbled, stepping to your other side, leaning his arm on your shoulder, getting closer to you once more.
"Hahaha! Mother, Charlie saw quite a wonderful necklace today, I think it would suit you perfectly! Why don't you and I go and get it?" Alastor took your hand and pulled you away from Lucifer, and towards the door.
"Now- now hold on, I was in the middle of something!" Naturally, Lucifer tried to stop the two of you, though to no avail, of course. Alastor simply ignored his attempts.
"Now, listen, Little Bird" Alastor began, turning to Lucifer and stood in a stance that seemed to mock him too.
"I need you to leave us alone so that I can spoil my Mother! You've already had far too much time with her!"
"Too much-?! I had barely ten minutes!"
"My point exactly! That is ten minutes far too long"
"Now hold on, did you call me 'little bird' earlier?!"
"Hmm… I might have"
"I am not a 'little bird'! Have you seen my wings?!"
"I beg to differ, I mean, just look at our height difference, I'd say you are quite little indeed"
"Height has no relevance in this conversation!"
"Oh yes it does!"
"No-"
"Now now, how about you two stop arguing for 5 minutes, at least"
"Unfortunately, I don't think that'll be possible, dear. Alastor and I simply clash too much"
"No, you're just annoying" Alastor replied, looking through building windows, trying to find where the necklace was, as you three had reached town by this point. This may as well be considered a family trip at this point, though Alastor would certainly despise that thought!
"Ah, there it is" he pulled you towards the store window and pointed out the necklace.
"Alastor, let's be nicer, alright?"
"I am plenty nice, Mother, so anyway, what do you think?" he motioned back at the necklace. You had to admit, there was a certain charm to it. The way it was made, made it seem as though it would suit you perfectly!
"I think you were right, it is quite a wonderful necklace. Now, darling, I'd like it if you were nice to Luci too!"
"Yes, I do have a good eye, don't I?" He chuckled, standing proudly as he looked back at Lucifer, who was standing behind the two of you, seemingly planning something.
"Begone, little bird, Mother and I have shopping to do" Alastor said, doing his creepy eye thing, but *just out of your sight as he knew you hated it quite a bit
"Wha- fine, but I will return, Alastor! You best prepare because your mother certainly will be mine!"
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lxkeee · 10 months ago
Text
⋆.˚ . FLY ME TO THE MOON ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚.
—PART FOUR
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Archangel Raphael! Fem! Reader
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Notes: finally, a divorced man meets a divorced woman.
PART ONE | PART THREE | PART FIVE | MISC.
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Nothing too interesting happened for the last couple of months, work on earth, do paperwork in heaven, repeat.
Scratch that, something did happen.
[Y/n] looked at her hand, seeing the gold band that was usually on her ring finger was now placed on her middle finger. A symbol of individuality and responsibility. She and Azrael finally got divorced—for shits and giggles. Just kidding. Azrael found love that's why and he and [y/n] it was time to end this marriage of theirs and remain friends. Azrael is now dating this cute principality angel named Francis. She supports them. She even set them up lmao.
They still continue doing their usual routine of spending their free time in each other's places (more on spending time at her home) and gossip.
She has to find her own love someday. [Y/n] sighs softly. Eyes staring outside her office window.
Today is the extermination day. She hopes Adam fucks up during it.
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It was rather boring for the rest of the day. She was just flying around heaven and seeing if the order was maintained. [Y/n]'s eyes widened when she saw Emily showing someone around heaven. Someone familiar.
That's right! She saw this snake man during the meeting when Charlie was showing about Angel's progress.
He looks different though.
Her eyes widened, realization dawning upon her.
He got redeemed.
Blinking her eyes, eyes sparkling in excitement.
She calms herself down first, she needs to confirm it.
Flying next to Emily, the girl slightly jumps in surprise to see [y/n]. Despite the woman being one of god's seven virtues, Emily sees her as an older sister figure.
“Hi [y/n]! Nice to see you here, it has been awhile since I've last seen you!” Emily says excitedly, eyes sparkling and wings flapping from excitement from seeing the older woman. The man beside her just looked in confusion.
“Hello Emi, dear. I just so happen to have some free time so I was just flying around. Is this a new soul you're showing around?” [y/n] asked, smiling softly at the girl and the girl squealed.
“Yes! Actually, this man right here. Was a sinner and got redeemed! Isn't that amazing!” Emily says and [y/n]'s eyes widened and smiled, smirking a bit before returning it to a genuine smile. The confused snake just staring back and forth between the two girls.
“Really? Now, isn't that surprising. This... This changes everything.” [y/n] says with a whisper before turning to look at the redeemed soul.
“Tell me, mister. What is your name? As one of the seven virtues, I would like to know the name of the first sinner ever to be redeemed.” [y/n] says curtly and bows at him gracefully.
“I am Sssir Pentiousss... It is a pleassure to meet you... Misss?” Sir Pentious greeted, though a little awkward but cute.
“Greetings Sir Pentious, I am Raphael. An archangel and one of God's seven virtues. But you can call me [y/n].” [y/n] says with a small smile, offering her hand for a handshake which Sir Pentious accepted.
[Y/n] looked at her watch that's on her wrist, pretended to look worried. “As much as I want to stay and chat. I have somewhere else to be. Emily, Sir Pentious. It was nice seeing you two.” [y/n] says frantically, although just pretending.
Emily nodded and tried to calm the panicking archangel, “It's alright Miss [y/n], we can catch up later.” she says and [y/n] smiles and places a gentle kiss on the girl's forehead.
“Alright, have fun. And Sir Pentious?” [y/n] calls out to the man and he looks at her with confusion. “Welcome to heaven, I hope you'll enjoy your stay.” she says and quickly waves goodbye and flies away.
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A meeting was then held with the seven virtues, they discussed what they should do next now that Charlotte Morningstar's hotel has worked. They agreed to put Sera on a trial but won't punish her severely like Lucifer.
“Adam's dead?” Camuel asked, shocked and [y/n] nodded.
“Apparently. Based on the exorcists' reports. Manz gone.” [y/n] says with a shrug and a lazy smirk.
“Finally!” Azrael laughs, the others just smirking.
“Good riddance.” Michael says calmly though a slight smirk on his face.
“What's our next course of action?” Gabriel asked, crossing her arms.
“Since this hotel the Morningstars are offering seems to work then there's only one thing we can do next.” Uriel says, sighing.
“Can't believe it actually worked. I guess we were wrong on how we treated Lucifer.” Camuel says and the others just shrug and sigh.
“We support this. We'll have to make sure this hotel keeps on working.” Jophiel says.
“[y/n].” Michael calls out and [y/n] can already tell where this is going.
“No.” she deadpans and Michael deadpans at her in return.
“What do you mean no? I haven't even asked yet.” Michael deadpans, Azrael chuckling beside [y/n].
“I just have a feeling I won't like it.” [y/n] says with a frown on her face.
“Too bad, you're doing it anyways. I want you to go down there and make sure to keep track of the hotel's progress.” Michael says sternly making [y/n] whine, she drops her head onto the circular table they were all sitting in. Groaning.
“More work? I don't wanna.” she says with a groan. Gabriel laughs.
“This can be an opportunity to get closure with you know who?” Uriel says with a chuckle.
“The fuck is closure? I don't need it.” [y/n] says, rolling her eyes.
“I think this is your chance [n/n]. I heard he's divorced lmao.” Jophiel cackles, [y/n] groaning once more.
“You two are going to be matching or twinsies!” Azrael teases making [y/n] glare at him playfully.
“Jokes aside. You need this [y/n]. Get some closure. We want you to be happy for once and I don't think we can handle more years of you feeling guilty for being so cold during the last time you saw him.” Camuel says softly, giving the girl a thumbs up.
“I better get extra day offs for this.” [y/n] says with a groan.
“Deal.” Michael says and [y/n] sighs.
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It was a few weeks after the extermination that was targeted at the hotel. The hotel has been rebuilt and now looks even better than before. Charlie is happy that she and her friends managed to stop the extermination. There are some new sinners who wanted to give redemption a try so now the hotel is now bustling slightly. Her dad moved in and has a room of his own and helps her manage the hotel.
Currently, the crew are in the lobby just talking. It was already late in the evening and the other guests are now sleeping. Angel, Lucifer, and Husk were at the bar area. Niffty was cleaning, Vaggie and Alastor were on the couch.
Knock, knock, knock.
Loud knocks were heard on the front door of the hotel.
“New guests perhaps?” Alastor says with a grin, Charlie grins excitedly. A new soul wanting to try redemption.
The others just watched the girl walked towards the door, curious who was behind it.
Charlie took a deep breath, preparing herself to greet the new guest.
Opening the door, it was someone she did not expect.
A tall woman (almost the same height as Alastor) was standing by the door, a serious look on her face. What caught her attention was the amount of authority and power emitting from her and... The golden halo on her head and the small angel wings behind her head.
“Good evening Charlotte Morningstar, I came as a messenger from heaven.” the angel says with a grin.
Lucifer's body went pale as he heard that oh so familiar voice.
“[y/n]...” Lucifer murmurs in disbelief, seeing his supposed best friend now in front of the door.
“It has been awhile, Lucifer.” [y/n] says softly, eyes still emotionless. She's actually just dissociating so her eyes are like that, she can't control it okay. She has a serious case of lazy eyes.
“Ooohh drama...” Angel Dust whispers to Husk.
Suddenly an angelic spear was pointed at her throat, she did not flinch nor was afraid. She merely used her finger to move it away.
“What are you doing here?” the gray haired girl asked, glaring at her. [Y/n] just looked down on her with a smile on her face.
“I am just here to deliver a message. The seven virtues would like to support this hotel!” She says with a grin, Lucifer looked at her suspiciously.
Why wouldn't he? The seven virtues didn't listen to him before. So why now?
“Why now? Why did the seven decide to support this hotel just now?” Lucifer glares.
[Y/n] clapped her hands, Lucifer's eyes landing on the wedding band on her middle finger. It's no longer in her ring finger.
Alastor noticed the way the king of hell looked at the newly appeared angel with so much longing in his eyes. Interesting... Alastor grins.
“First and foremost, heaven apologizes for the yearly cleansing. It was a decision Sera, the high seraphim decided without informing us. We do not condone her actions and she would be faced in a trial.” [y/n] says nonchalantly, putting her hands on her pocket.
Lucifer flinches, he didn't know the decision was Sera's alone.
“Secondly, the hotel works.” [y/n] says with a grin.
This made the others look at her with confusion.
“A certain serpent sinner was redeemed. Ironic as the first one to doom humanity was a serpent and the first one to give humanity hope for redemption is also a serpent.” [y/n] laughs softly, Lucifer's eye twitched.
[Y/n]'s words sparked even more confusion with the others.
“Serpent?” Angel Dust asked, taking a sip of his drink.
“Someone who goes by Sir Pentious is now in heaven. Based on my records, he was a sinner before.” [y/n] says, shrugging.
Their eyes widened at the news. Sir Pentious is alive!
“How can we be so sure you're not lying?” Husk asked, raising an eyebrow at the woman. [Y/n] just chuckles.
“It is up to you if you believe it or not, after all... Angels never lie.” she says with a grin, summoning a small notebook from thin air, flipping through the pages of the notebook to scan for her notes.
“Lastly, I will be helping with the hotel during my scheduled time here. I'll be keeping track of the soul's progress here and research how a soul actually goes to heaven as Sir Pentious' case is a rare one and the first one so... We have no data. Heaven hopes to find more info about this case.” [y/n] explained, “I hope we'll get along.” she says with a grin.
Charlie's eyes widened, progress. Her hotel is making progress. Heaven is slowly helping her.
“Excuse me, Miss...?” Charlie softly calls, not knowing the angel's name.
[Y/n] looked at the smaller girl, patting the girl's head.
“My name is [y/n], also known as the archangel Raphael. One of God's seven virtues. It is a pleasure to finally meet you officially, Ms. Morningstar.” [y/n] introduces herself gracefully. Lucifer is still in awe in how fast she climbed the ranks.
Charlie nodded, finally happy to know the woman.
“Is there a way for us to visit Sir Pentious?” she asked hopefully, the others leaning in and hoping the same thing. [Y/n] closes her notebook, a loud sound sounding from it.
“I am sorry, heaven currently doesn't accept visitation unless necessary. Although, I can send letters back and forth whenever I visit.” She suggested, Charlie's eyes saddened but returned to hopeful. At least they know Sir Pentious is still alive.
“That would be all. I'll see you next time on my visit to keep track of the progress. Until then.” [y/n] says softly bowing at them. Turning her back and slowly walked away from the door.
Stopping, she didn't turn around to face them again.
“And Lucifer...?” she says, hesitating but her voice is vulnerable. Lucifer's breath hitched and the others just looked at the scene with curiosity. It is obvious these two knew each other based on how they already know each when she first arrived. They can practically sense the tension.
“I was wrong and I am sorry.” she says softly. Summoning her three pairs of wings, large and majestic.
She has wings now... Lucifer thought. His eyes softened when he heard her apologize.
“Wait... [Y/n]—” He called out but she didn't listen.
[Y/n] quickly flies away, a portal opening for her and closes after she enters.
“Did anyone else notice the tension...?” Angel asked, voicing out everyone's thoughts, a smirk on his face. Angel didn't mention that he really felt the unspoken romantic tension between the two angelic beings. He's getting more tea.
“This is getting interesting.” Alastor says with a grin and Lucifer knows that the radio demon just found more ways to torment him.
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End notes: I know some of you read Alastor's line in Zhongli or Childe's voice lmao. And yes, Azrael and reader divorced each other. I had to ship Azrael with my oc okayy, I need Azrael to have some love 💀
TAGLIST:
@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata
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thinkingotherwise · 3 months ago
Note
Hello! Just a girly obsessed with Umemiya, requesting a scenario where he thinks reader and him are dating but he didn’t officially ask. A little bit of panic happens before he realizes his mistake 😆🥹🩵 (any levels of spicy 😆) 🙏🏼
Cute, it's like dating but not really.
Hajime is a little chaotic in this and acts before thinking.
Hajime Umemiya x reader
A little spoiler to Hajime's backstory, not much he just wants to introduce you to his family.
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- Umemiya's touch was more frequent, you noticed recently. It was surprising but you didn't mind it at all. - It brought you a sense of relief even if you felt warm whenever it happened. - Of course, your mind searched for the source of what exactly brought this new wave of touchiness. - You remembered it all started during the latest BBQ party that the Bofurin Leader organized and you helped, as usual. - Yet you couldn't recall the specific moment that could bring it, that could deepen your relationship with him. - So you went with it. The fact that you had a crush on him might have been an additional reason.
- But then he asked you to visit his old orphanage together and oh dear, if you knew what it would entail. - You agreed, why wouldn't you when he smiled at you like that with eyes full of excitement? - You walked with him up to the front doors voicing how nervous you were to meet such important people in his life. - "Don't worry, I'm sure they'd love you, I know I do." - He said and that made your mind blank. Did you hear him correctly just now? - Noticing your absentminded stare he thought you were really anxious, so he stepped closer placing his hand on your cheek before connecting your lips together. - Okay, now saying you were confused would be an understatement. - Your brain shut off as you let his lips move against yours. You felt your blood pumping rapidly as warmth spread all over your body. - Then he pulled away sending you his pretty smile and your eyes moved frantically over his features. Your mouth opened as you breathed heavily trying to calm yourself. - "What was-" - You were cut off as Hajime brushed your cheek before letting his hand fall to grip yours. - "You're gonna do well. Don't worry." - His voice was calm and comforting, complete opposite to how you were feeling right now. - Everything happened way too fast for you to catch up. First, he saying he loved you, kissing you, and now the front door opened showing some kids as they cheered seeing Hajime. - An older man appeared behind the group and you felt as if you were about to get a heart attack when Hajime's next words left his mouth. - "Hello guys, as promised, I brought my partner with me. That's (Y/n), be nice to them." - This man, he really wanted to put you in hospital with his unpredictable behavior. - "Ex-excuse me?" - You questioned your hand tightening around Hajime as he still held it. - The older man brought the kids back inside and motioned for you two to join them. Yet you didn't move. - Your hand pulled on Bofurin leader's as you finally collected some confidence to question him. - "Hajime, what is this all about? We're not dating, are we?" - You asked with wide eyes questioning even yourself, if maybe you forgot about something. Did you have some short-term memory loss? - His head tilted to the side as his eyes looked at you disoriented. - "We are, aren't we?" - He questioned back. - And now both of you stood, in front of his orphanage with doors open wide, frozen in place instead of entering. - "Since when?" - You tried to remember when it did happen, was it why he was more touchy with you recently because he thought you were going out? - "Umm.. since the BBQ." - He replied his voice losing its volume, but as he stood close to you, you heard him perfectly well. - "I confessed to you and you reciprocated my feelings." - He added and you went back the memory lane to the day.
- In your mind, it seemed like a normal conversation, well slightly normal as you certainly remembered him saying he liked you in front of everyone, but he did so with others as well and you thought he meant it in a friendly way, so you replied that you liked him too. - You described the memory to him and watched as his mouth opened wide and his ears colored red. - He covered his mouth with his hand and turned away from you as he gasped when reality crashed into him. - Why? Well, he remembered the moment a little differently. - He was looking at you, enchanted by your smile, so much so that he didn't realize that instead of saying things out loud he was thinking them inside his head. In his mind, he confessed all of feelings to you before finally voicing out a short 'I like you'. Which honestly, was supposed to sum up all of his confession but how could it make sense for you when you couldn't read his mind? - So when he heard you saying you also like him, he immediately thought you also shared the same deep feelings he did and that meant you were together.
- The realization appeared in his eyes as he slowly turned to you, his eyes glistening with tears as he looked so apologetic. - "I'm so sorry. Oh my God.. I really apologize I-" - His voice cut as he recalled the last minutes and what he did as well as his previous actions that must have made you uncomfortable, in his opinion. - His knees bent as he kneeled in front of you head bowed down. - You gasped in surprise and embarrassment as he apologized to you. - Your hand moved to grab his biceps as you tried to pick him up from the ground, your eyes darting behind him to the open doors trying to see if someone was watching. But when you found no one you pulled on his arm and he finally stood up. - "I really am sorry, I'll tell everyone at the orphanage that you're my friend and explain it." - He rambled on and you covered his mouth to make him listen to you. - "Umm I really was surprised and confused when you did all that." - You waved your hand as you started talking. Flustered like never but also a little amused at the fact that he confessed to you in his head. - "But I really didn't mind when you became closer. I mean, I do like you, like as more than just a friend but it would be nice to know we were actually dating." - A small smile appeared on your face and Hajime slowly became more relieved seeing that you didn't mind his actions as much as he thought you would. - "So if you still want to, we can make it a reality and this time confess out loud." - His head moved rapidly nodding at your words as he grabbed your hand and pulled it away from his mouth. - "Yes, sure. Of course, I really liked the thought of dating you and the last days when I thought we did." - He replied excitedly before pulling you into a hug which you reciprocated. - That was until the old man that was leading the orphanage appeared at the doors again asking if you were going to join them or would you just stand outside. - You smiled at him, more confident, now that you cleared things up with Hajime, before walking into the building with your new boyfriend following after you.
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