#you okay and i said no and he didn't say anything and i hung up

[sturniqlo]

COMFORT- SHY!MATT x SHY!READER

summary- matt loves how comfortable darling is around him, it turns him on at certain times (matt being a whole different person in bed.. yum)

cw: SMUT; dom(ish)!matt, p in v, making out, nipple play, oral!f receiving, creampie, FLUFF

an: thank you to this anon (also, this is my first ever shy!matt x darling smut fic, p.s i know the pajama bottoms are actually shorts but pretend they're underwear)

masterlist | shy!matt x shy!reader | join my taglist

------------------------------------------------

it was that point in their relationship where darling was getting very comfortable around matt-and vice versa-, not that she wasn't ever comfortable around him, just comfortable in a different light. she started doing things around him that she would only do when she was alone. one of those things is walk around in her underwear or bra.

"i'm gonna shower really quick." she said with her clothes and towel in hand. "okay, i'll be here." matt smiles as he sits against her headboard her fluffy blanket over his lap. matt being matt, puckers his lips signaling he wants a kiss. darling doesn't think anything of it, in all honestly she loves when he does that, it's because normal for them.

she even catches herself doing it sometimes. "mwah!" she intentionally says as she plants a kiss onto his lips, she can still taste the faint sherbet ice cream they shared. "don't take long, i'll miss you." he teases, squeezing her hip gently. "i'll try not to." she pecks his lips this time before making her way to the bathroom out in the hall.

as matt waited for her, scrolling through her streaming services on her tv, he got up and went down to the kitchen to get a snack. darling's parents were currently out on a camping trip since it was their anniversary weekend. with their permission, matt was able to come and stay over. they trusted matt and darling as they were once young and in love.

he opened the fridge grabbing two cold water bottles as he noticed her water bottle was almost empty. placing both of them on the island counter, matt opened the pantry and scanned the shelves. he saw the half eaten tray of her dad's strawberry danish and held back from grabbing a piece. her dad was serious about his danishes.

opting for some chips and a bit of chocolate chip cookies, he made his way back upstairs into her bedroom. as matt passed the bathroom, he heard the running water and her slight humming to the song she played on low volume.

matt returned back to the room and dug into the snacks he had brought up. still continuing to scroll through the streaming services, he didn't choose anything because he wanted to wait for darling and see what she would want to watch.

he looked around her room noticing small details that she had added. a new sonny angel hipper was added to the back of her flatscreen tv, the calendar matt had gifted her with pictures of them was hung up on her closet door, and a new pair of shoes was added to her shoe rack. he noticed every little detail.

it was about fifteen minutes later when darling walked through the door, her hair up in her designated hair towel. when matt realized what she was wearing, his breath hitched. she wore a white teddy bear tank paired with matching teddy bear boxer like underwear.

she had just started doing this around matt, walking around in her underwear. he cleared his throat as he caught himself watching her as she went into her closet to put her dirty clothes into her hamper. "find something to watch?" she said in a soft tone as she sat in her vanity across the room, watching him through the mirror as she combed her hair. "huh- oh- uh, no. i was uh- i was waiting for you. see what you wanted to watch."

she didn't realize his now worked up state. "you can put modern family back on." darling did her skincare, and lathered herself in her sweet scented lotion that drove matt crazy. he went to hulu to put the show, but he kept glancing back at darling who stood up to lather her legs.

the ends of her underwear rode up slightly and exposed the bottom of her ass cheeks. "shit." he muttered under his breath, shifting in the bed putting the blanket back over his lap. darling came closer to the bed and smiled at matt. "i feel so clean." she giggled, sitting on top of the blanket. "baby, are you not hot?" her dad had cranked up the heater before he left and it was really warm in the house.

"no- no, not really." he nervously chuckled, her scent engulfed his sense of smell. he looked down to play with his fingers, but caught eye of her plump thighs. "well i am. it's like ninety degrees in here." she fanned her tank top. matt stared at her and noticed that she wasn't wearing a bra either.

they were a couple of episodes in and darling ended up laying on her belly towards the end of the bed, which was the worst decision in matt's eyes. the curve of her ass was taunting him. the way it jiggled when she laughed or made a slight movement to get comfy, and the way her underwear rode up more.

darling didn't do it intentionally, in all honesty the thought of matt being worked up didn't cross her mind. she soon sat up and scooted to matt. "i'm bored." she told him, kneeling next to him running a hand through his hair. "what do you wanna do?" he said, his eyes raking up to her eyes and down to her lips.

"are you sure you're okay? you look pretty flustered." she furrows her eyebrows. "baby-" she gasped. "are you.. hard?" he groaned. "darling.. you're- you just look so good." she blushed at his words. "why didn't you tell me? i could've helped you all this time." she moved the blanket off of him and straddled his lap. matt was never one to just ask for sex- he was too shy to do so, he would give her little touches here and there or just stare at her.

"you know why." his hands came to rest on the silver of her skin where her tank top rode up. her hips slowly rolled against his. "baby." his threw his head slightly back. darling took the opportunity to kiss against his neck. matt got hold of her chin and connected their lips in a hungry kiss. "such a tease, hm? wearing your tiny panties around me." his finger dipped into the waistband of her underwear and let it slap against her skin. "mmph!" she whined against his lips.

"can i?" he pulled away from her, their lips red and swollen, his hands slipped under her tank top, looking up at her with pleading eyes. "please- yes." she nodded- she was now as equally as needy as him. matt wasted no time in taking her shirt off. her full, round tits on display for him. "so pretty, darling. so fucking pretty." he growled, taking her right tit into his mouth. his wet, pink tongue swirled around her nipple as he stared up at her, her eyes closed in pleasure.

"matt, oh- shit." her back arched, furthering herself more into matt. "love your tits, babe." he popped off of her nipple, moving onto the left one as his hand came up to knead the one he had in his mouth before.

after some time, he began to trail kisses around her chest up to her collarbone, up her neck eventually making it back to her lips. "lay on the bed f'me. c'mon." he patted the side of her thigh. darling came off of his thigh and laid next to him. matt hovered over her, pressing a few kisses to her neck. his kisses trailed down her body until he reached the hem of her underwear. "matt- please." she looked down at him.

"patience, darling." matt continued to press teasing kisses along her underwear. a wet patch began to form on her panties. "wet already?" he smirked, his finger prodding at the patch. "mhm- so wet for you." she rolled her hips wanting more. after pressing a kiss to her wetness, he hooked his fingers into the fabric and pulled them down. "lift up f'me." she lifted her hips so he'd be able to pull them down her legs.

he tossed the underwater somewhere on the bed, putting her legs over his shoulders. "look at that. pussys so pretty." matt was face to face with her glistening folds that we're aching to be touched. darling shivered when his breath fanned against her wetness.

pressing kisses along her inner thighs, so very close to her core, matt licked and nipped until she was a squirming wanted to be licked where she needed it most. "please, stop- stop teasing." she whined, gripped his hair to try and guide him to her pussy. "am i being mean, hm?" his tongue made very small contact, but quickly pulled away.

matt thought he had teased enough and dipped his tongue into her hole, licking a stripe up to her clit. "oh- yes!" she smiled at the feeling of his warm tongue on her. "so good, darling. taste so good." he lapped up her arousal. sucking on her lips, her back arched at the sensation- the suction around her lips and the vibrations of his muffled moans.

"just like that- fuck!" her hands fisted at the bed sheets as she didn't want to hurt matt's scalp. darlings moans and pants filled the room, her constant whines when matt would pull away for a split second. matt's hands trailed up her body as she continued to eat her out. his fingertips found her tits and he rolled her nipples in between his thumb and forefinger.

he soon pulled away due to the ache in his pants becoming too much. "baby, please let me- let me fuck you." he mumbled as he kissed up her body. he sucked a few marks onto her neck. darlings hands creeped into his hair. "mhm, yes. i want you in me." she whispered into his ear, his hips rolled against her. "yeah?" he bit down on her neck. "so bad, please." she held the sides of his face and stared at him. matt broke into a smug smile, leaning down to press their lips together.

as their lips and tongue clashed together, matt pulled down both his pants and underwear throwing them somewhere. he stroked his hard cock a couple of times, pulling away from the kiss. darling looked down to where his cock was and saw the red leaking tip, her pussy clenched around nothing. "ready f'me?" he said, slapping his dick against her clit. "yes, i'm ready." she nodded, biting her bottom lip.

matt lined his tip up with her wet hole and slowly pushed into her. darling moaned feeling the familiar stretch of matt's cock. "so tight." matt's jaw slacked at her warm walls squeezing him. once he bottomed out, he waited a few moments until she was ready for him to move.

"you can- you can move." she nodded, grabbing onto his shoulders. matt pushed out before thrusting back in making them both moan at the same time. "yes, just like that. faster, baby." darling whined. he accepted her wishes and picked up the speed.

the wet noises, along with their moans, now filled the air in her room. the occasional bang of the headboard against the wall was covered by the lewd noises. "feel you squeezing my cock, darling." he kissed just below her ear. "it's so good, matt. don't stop." her moans continued.

minutes later, matt pulled out causing her to whimper at the loss of contact. "matt- what- what are you doing." her glossy eyes looked up at him. "shh, it's okay, pretty." he pressed a kiss to her lips. "want you to flip over f'me. hands and knees, yeah?" matt knew that her being on all fours made it feel better and deeper for her. she nodded, her damp hair from her shower and the slight sweat made the baby hairs stick along her hairline.

matt got on his knees to give her space to flip over. once she was situated, matt got behind her and caressed the soft and plump skin of her ass. his hand grabbed his dick and ran it up and down her puffy, wet folds. "oh- matt." she arched her back as he circled his tip against her hole. matt didn't ram himself in, but he certainly didn't hold back. her high pitched moans and whimpers began again. only this time they were louder due to the new position and angle.

"f-fuck, you're so deep." she mumbled against the bed sheets. her once hands and knees position turned into her being face down ass up. "yeah? feel me so deep inside of your tummy, babe." his hands came to the side of her ass, holding her as he went in and out of her. "so fucking deep." she repeated.

darling felt the familiar pressure building up in her lower belly, so she began backing her ass into him. matt groaned when he realized what she was doing. "you close, hm?" he groaned, his right hand on her ass and the other on the back of her neck. "yes- yes, so close. don't stop." she cried, wanting her release.

"cum for me. cum all over my dick." matt began to do long, deep strokes. "shit- just like that." the movement in his thrusts brought her more to the edge. her fingers curled into the pillow as she mewled. "i'm- fuck, i'm cumming!" her legs trembled as she released. "that's it, baby. all over my dick, mhm." he thrusted a couple of more times before he felt the familiar sensation.

"babe- i'm close." he gently brought her up to where her back was pressed up against his chest. "cum in me. want all of it, plea- please." she cried, her hand coming behind his head as he nipped at her neck. "oh- shit." his cock twitched inside of her as he came. matt kept messily thrusting against her as he rode his high.

once she started to whine, he stopped as he knew that she had become sensitive. "it's okay, i've got you." he pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. slowly and carefully he laid her back down, still staying inside of her. "is it okay if i pull out? need to clean you up." she nodded. slowly, he pulled out watching as his cum leaked out of her. matt held back a groan at the sight.

"i'll be back, gonna get some tissue."

when matt finished cleaning her up, they showered together. "baby, c'mere. wanna braid your hair." matt patted his lap. "really? think you got it?" she teased. "i definitely improved since last time." darling sat in between his legs as he worked with her hair. "so it's right over left- no, no. right over left." he muttered to himself.

although he had to restart a couple of times, he finally finished it. matt took a picture and showed her. "alright, what do you think of my masterpiece?" he handed her his phone and wrapped his arms around her waist bringing her into his chest. "it's definitely something, i'll tell you that." she giggled. some parts were pretty loose and in some her hair was sticking out. "hey, i thought i did pretty good." he pouted, his chin resting on her shoulder.

"just gotta keep on practicing." she turned around and booped his nose.

[noxitsnox]

if we get too closе, would it be okay?

hyun-ju x gn!reader - highschool au

summery: hyun-ju came out to her- now ex- girlfriend who spread the rumor around the whole school.

tags: trans/homophobia (the word tr**ny is used one (1) time), bullying, hurt/comfort, lots of fluff i promise, let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: i am obsessed it's not fair. this is pre-t but i'm still going to use she/her pronouns for hyun-ju <3 also english is not my first language and this isn't proof read, so i apologize for any mistake. @exactlyinfp

hyun-ju didn't want to go to school that day. her girlfriend, ex girlfriend now, broke up with her just because she trusted her, because she didn't want to hide anymore and she believed that her girlfriend of almost two years would understand. but she didn't. she called her all kind of names and blocked her everywhere.

she hoped this was where it ended. that they could just ignore each other and keep living life as it is. it would have been so much easier that way. but the moment she entered the school hallway she knew something happened. the looks she was getting were strange, full of hate. definitely not the looks you receive when you just broke up. she tried to ignore it and walked to her class with her head down.

it was early. a lot of time passed before some of her classmates entered the room. maybe it was better if they stayed outside. their chatter died down as soon as they saw her. one of them, who was seated next to her, took his desk and dragged it as far away from her as possible. “you're sick”, he said under his breath. “stay away from me.”

she stayed silent as the realization hit her. if he knew, everyone else did too. fighting tears, she forced herself to keep cool.

slowly people filled the room. everyone ignored her, even her so called friends looked at her with disgust. only y/n seemed to be acting as if nothing happened. maybe they didn't know about it yet. they’ll turn their back to you like everyone else, she thought.

“oh hyun-ju, how are you?”

y/n waited for an answer that never arrived. so, with a sad smile, they spoke again. “it's fine. you don't have to talk with me. you have my number in case you change your mind.”

———

for the rest of the week she ignored everyone. she was barely alive.

every morning she entered school feeling like a criminal. her locker in the changing rooms was filled with insults. some guys even tried to push her on the ground. that was the only moment she reacted. she could ignore words, but physical aggression was were she drew the line.

every night she cried herself to sleep, wishing she had someone on her side, someone to talk to. her family didn't know about what was happening in school and she hoped for it to stay that way or she wouldn't even have a home anymore.

it was on saturday afternoon that she lost it. she was out, getting some groceries for her mother at the local market, and she saw her ex with her friends. she tried to hide before they could notice her, but she wasn't fast enough.

"oh god, isn't that that tranny you used to date?", one said pointing at her.

"don't say that out loud, please. what will people think of me?"

hyun-ju ran away without even taking food from the market stall. she kept running until their voice became indistinguishable echoes.

she sat on the side walk and took out her phone, looking for y/n contact. she started crying, the tears blurring her vision.

their words came back to her. you have my number in case you change your mind. were they serious? she hesitantly called them, hoping for the best.

y/n didn't take long to answer and for that she was grateful.

"hey, you called!"

"i- yes... listen can you, can you come here?"

"oh hyun-ju, you're crying? is everything okay?"

"i don't even know anymore. please, just come here." and with that she hung up the phone, quickly shared the position with them.

she hugged her knees as she waited.

———

y/n was happy that hyun-ju called, even if the situation wasn't ideal. even though they weren't intimate, they cared about her and it made them sad to see her suffer. especially if she was being ridiculed for something beyond her control.

y/n tried to get to her as fast as possible. they went out in their sweats without bothering to put on something nicer. they didn't like the idea of hyun-ju seeing them in that state, but they also realized that they had to put vanity aside at the moment.

as soon as she saw y/n she got up and hugged. they remained in that position for a while. hyun-ju cried and cried while y/n rubbed her back, doing what they could to comfort her.

"sorry... i don't know why i did that", she said as she let go of them.

"you don't have to apologize. do you feel better now?"

"i do, thanks."

an awkward silence fell until y/n suggested they start walking with a wave of their hand, "do you wanna talk about what's happening?"

"i just want to forget about it. can we talk about something else?"

"oh sure", y/n looked at her and smiled. "do you wanna hear about this manga i'm reading?"

a/n: i realize that for an xreader the reader is barely there 😬 sorry. let me now if you liked it!!

[hyunjiiniw]

*ੈ✩ (현진)

FLOWERS?

after your ex cheated on you and you cried to your friend hyunjin,there were flowers at your door when you hang up.

────────────────────

────────────────────

✩ friend!hyunjin fem!reader ONESHOT,open-ending,just friends,cute,comforting,fluff,teasing and confessing.

✩ hyunjiniw’s note decided to not put a label on what they finally ended up to be or will be,it’s all up to your imagination considering it’s oneshot,i got mad at myself too when i wrote this and let it end like that,not doing a closed-ending,but i hope you’ll enjoy!

✩ happy reading to you <3

────────────────────

the moment my phone slipped from my trembling hands, i crumbled onto my bed. the weight of my chest felt unbearable, as though every ounce of air had been sucked from the room.

my cheeks were streaked with tears, and my throat was raw from sobbing.

i couldn't believe it.

i’ve seen the proof-clear, undeniable proof. messages i was never supposed to see. pictures i couldn't unsee. my boyfriend of two years had cheated on me.

and now, all i felt was hollow.

the first person i thought to call wasn't my family or even my closest girl friend. it was hyunjin.

hyunjin, who'd been my friend since high school. hyunjin, who always had a way of making me feel seen. hyunjin, who i’d once sworn to myself that i’d never fall for. i couldn't ruin what i had with him, no matter how many times my heart betrayed me.

i hadn't told him about the cheating yet,i only managed to choke out the words "i need you." and, like always, hyunjin came through.

the screen lit up, signaling his incoming call. i swiped to answer, my voice barely above a whisper.

"hey," he said gently. "talk to me. what's going on?"

my voice cracked on the first word. "he-" i sucked in a shaky breath. "he cheated on me,hyun. i saw the messages. the pictures. it’s over."

silence.

not the awkward kind, but the kind that felt heavy, like he was trying to process what i’d just told him.

"y/n," he said softly, and his voice broke something in me. "i’m so sorry."

the sincerity in his tone undid me. i started crying again, the sobs shaking my entire body.

"i don't get it," i hiccupped. "was i not enough? was i... too much? how could he do this to me,hyun? after everything—after everything—“

"hey, no," he interrupted, his voice firm but still comforting. "don't do that. don't you dare blame yourself for his garbage decisions. you're incredible,y/n. if he couldn't see that, it's his loss."

i sniffled, trying to catch my breath. "it doesn't feel like his loss. it feels like mine."

"you haven't lost anything," hyunjin said, and the conviction in his words made me pause. "if anything, you've gotten rid of someone who didn't deserve you. and now, you have space for someone who does."

his words felt like a balm on my wounded heart, but the ache still lingered. "you really think so?"

"i know so," he said without hesitation. "you’re one of the most amazing people i know,y/n. anyone would be lucky to have you."

i tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. "you’re just saying that because you're my friend."

"no,i’m saying it because it's true."

i didn't know what to say to that, so i let the silence stretch between us. it wasn't uncomfortable-just... quiet.

after a while, hyunjin spoke again, his voice softer this time. "i wish i could be there with you right now."

"me too," i admitted, fresh tears prickling at the corners of my eyes.

"tell you what," he said, his tone lightening. "put on your favorite show, grab a blanket, and pretend i’m sitting next to you, making sarcastic comments about everything"

a laugh bubbled up despite myself. "that actually sounds nice."

"good. because you deserve nice things,y/n. don’t forget that, okay?"

"i’ll try," i said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"you’re gonna be okay," he promised. "i’ll check in tomorrow, yeah?"

"yeah," i agreed, feeling the faintest spark of hope.

when i hung up, the weight in my chest felt a little lighter. but the emptiness still lingered.

i hadn't expected much for the rest of the evening-just the quiet comfort of my blankets and the distraction of my favorite show. so,when the doorbell rang not fifteen minutes later, i froze.

cautiously, i made my way to the door, wiping my cheeks to look somewhat presentable. when i opened it, my breath caught in my throat.

sitting on my doorstep was a bouquet of flowers.

not just any flowers.they were my favorites-soft, pastel blooms wrapped in crisp white paper, tied with a delicate ribbon. my hands trembled as i picked them up, noticing the small card tucked inside.

i unfolded it, my heart pounding as i read the familiar, neat handwriting.

"because you deserve beautiful things, even on the ugliest days. -hyunjin"

my knees nearly gave out.

clutching the flowers to my chest, i sank onto the floor, tears streaming down my face. but these weren't tears of sadness. they were something else entirely-gratitude, warmth, something, that felt achingly close to love.

hyunjin had always been there for me. through every heartbreak, every failure, every joy.but this... this was different.

it was a reminder that even in my darkest moments, someone saw me . someone cared enough to remind me of my worth.

i stared at the flowers for what felt like forever, the petals soft and vibrant against my fingertips. the scent was delicate and sweet, wrapping around me like a gentle hug.

for the first time that night, i felt something other than heartbreak.

i felt hope.

[omgsomeonesomewhereonearth]

.

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

In light of Brian Thompson being shot dead on my birthday (🎉🥳🎂) I'd like to share a personal story about UnitedHealthcare.

During the peak of COVID, my family all got sick. I couldn't be on my parents' insurance because they were both older and on Medicare. So, I had insurance through my University: UnitedHealthcare.

For some reason, rather than roll-over each year, I got a new plan each year that ended after May and didn't start until August, so I was uninsured for the summer months, but it was a weird situation that the university denied, and told us we were supposed to be insured year-round, it was messy.

Both of my parents went to the hospital, and I got sick too. I had to take care of my pets, and myself, and try to stay alive and keep my pets alive when I was so weak I could hardly move. When my parents came home, my condition got dramatically worse (I think my body knew it couldn't give out, because there was nobody to take care of me, so once my parents were okay, it completely crashed and failed.)

I started experiencing emergency symptoms. It was a bit hard to breathe, my chest hurt, and I was extremely delirious. I wanted to call my insurance to see if I was covered (this was during the summer) and I was connected to some nice person, probably making minimum wage, who told me with caution in her voice that my plan was expired. I had no active insurance, but she urged me to go to an emergency room. I remember saying something to the effect of "You just told me I don't have insurance, I can't go to the hospital, I can't afford it."

She sounded so genuinely worried and scared. I remember she said "You really don't sound good, you sound really sick, please call 9-1-1" and I think I just said "I can't afford it without insurance, don't worry, I think I'll be okay."

And she paused and said "I don't want to hang up the phone with you like this." And it sounded like she was holding back tears. And I don't remember what I said, I think that I would be okay, and I hung up.

I still think about her. I wonder if that phone call haunted her, or if she had dozens of calls like that a day. I wonder if she thinks about it at all, if she wonders if I died after she told me I didn't have insurance and therefore couldn't go to the hospital without incurring a tremendous financial burden. I wonder if she feels guilt or blame-- of course she shouldn't, it wouldn't have been her fault if anything had happened to me. Maybe it's self-centered to wonder if she thinks about it. I'm not the main character and it was just her job. But, still.

I think about how evil it was that we were put in that situation. Because offering year-long continuous coverage through the university plan would maybe cut into profits, maybe not benefit shareholders enough, maybe cut into Thompson's $10 million salary. While his minimum wage administrators have to feel afraid to hang up the phone, because on the other line someone might be dying, and they wouldn't know. While his patients hang up and decide to take their chances rather than put their family through that trauma.

This is UnitedHealthcare. This is Brian Thompson's legacy. This is why, understandably, an entire nation is jubilant that he was gunned down like the vermin he was. I don't care about his widow. I feel pity for his children, despite the fact that they will inherit millions, but I feel more pity for the children of his victims patients who are gone because they didn't want THEIR children to inherit crippling debt. Brian Thompson got what he fucking deserved. I pray that he not be the only one. I pray for continued safety, peace , and anonymity for his killer.

American healthcare is a disease.

[stylesispunk]

"Did the love affair maim you too?" | Part ii

Joel Miller xf!reader

part one | next part

chapter summary: After getting back his memories, Joel and you slipped away again.

word count: 15,3k (yes, it's longer than the first chapter)

warnings: angst, perhaps fluff, mentions of death, mentions of blood, and more angst, you will find out why Joel is mean in this chapter. I know I'm a teacher, but I didn't proofread, so I apologize for any mistake. paragraphs in italics indicate flashbacks.

a/n: Hello! The awaited part 2 of this story is here! I want to say thank you for the amount of love the previous part received, it was so nice to see all your reactions to this one! It was also my first fic reaching 1k> in less than a week and was overwhelming (positively). THIS IS NOT THE LAST PART, so stay tuned for the next! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! happy reading and PLEASE tell me what you think. 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

For a mere second of time, wanting was enough for you. In a harsh reality where a tender love couldn’t be part of the writing pages of a tragedy that had changed the plans destiny had for humanity, even a simple glimpse of a spark was enough to initiate the fire.

Finding a reason to wake up was enough. Joel was enough for you, even when it was a path with not a clear ending.

A lie.

A maim affair engulfed in fire burning your lungs.

A tragedy.

You looked up from your work as you sensed people entering at the place, your eyes meeting Joel’s for the first time. His expression was hard, his eyes narrowed as he sized you up. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched you with a guarded look that made you feel like you were being evaluated.

“Can I help you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady under his intense gaze.

“She needs that looked at,” he said, his tone brusque as he gestured to Ellie’s arm.

You nodded, motioning for Ellie to sit down. As you began to clean the wound, you could feel Joel’s eyes on you, watching your every move. It was as if he was waiting for you to make a mistake, to prove that you didn’t belong there.

“So, you’re infamous nurse” Joel said after a moment, his voice still cool and distant.

You looked up from your work, meeting Joel’s eyes briefly before returning your focus to Ellie’s wound. His words hung in the air, a subtle challenge beneath the surface.

“Infamous?” you repeated, trying to keep your tone neutral. “I didn’t know I had a reputation.”

Joel shrugged, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his gaze never leaving you. “Small town. People talk.”

You nodded, understanding that this was as much about sizing you up as it was about Ellie’s injury. You’d heard about Joel—everyone in Jackson had. He was a protector, a survivor, and not someone who trusted easily.

“I’m just here to help,” you said, keeping your voice steady as you wrapped Ellie’s arm with a bandage. “That’s all.”

Ellie, sensing the tension, glanced between the two of you, her eyes wide. “She’s okay, Joel,” she said, trying to ease the atmosphere. “It’s just a scratch.”

Joel didn’t respond to Ellie; his focus remained on you. There was something in his eyes—a guardedness, a wariness that told you he was waiting for you to prove yourself, or perhaps waiting for you to slip up.

“I’ve been in Jackson for a few days” you continued, finishing up with Ellie’s bandage. “Just trying to do my part.”

“Everyone’s got a part to play,” Joel said, his tone still clipped. “Just make sure you know yours.”

You felt the sting of his words but didn’t let it show. Instead, you nodded, stepping back as Ellie hopped off the table.

“Thanks,” Ellie said, giving you a small smile.

“You’re welcome,” you replied, managing a smile in return.

Joel pushed off the wall, his eyes still on you as he motioned for Ellie to follow him. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice softening slightly when he spoke to her.

As they walked towards the door, Joel paused for a brief moment, his hand resting on the doorknob. He turned back, his eyes meeting yours once more. There was something in his gaze, something more than just suspicion. It was as if he was searching for something in you, trying to read who you really were beneath the surface.

For a second, the hardened lines of his face softened, but just as quickly, the guarded expression returned. Without another word, he turned away and led Ellie out of the infirmary, the door closing behind them with a quiet thud.

You felt like breathing again.

By the moment you had reached your house, the sun had barely risen, casting a pale light over the quiet settlement. A few people were starting their duties as you walked with dried tears on your face, just wanting not to be perceive and being able to take a shower and follow your routine as you always used to die it since your arrival, but the ache was bigger than your wiliness and you ended up lying in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, the horror on Joel’s face kept replaying in your mind. The heartbreak was raw and overwhelming, making it hard to breathe, let alone face the day.

You didn’t even notice you had fallen sleep until a knock came at your door, it took a moment for you to register the sound. You dragged yourself out of bed, wiping at your newly fresh tears from your eyes and trying to compose yourself as best as you could.

Opening the door, you found Maria standing there, her expression concerned.  “Hey,” she said softly, her eyes scanning your face. “Ramirez told me you didn’t show up at the infirmary this morning. Thought I’d check on you.”

You forced a weak smile, stepping aside to let her in. “Thanks, Maria. I just... fell asleep”

Maria nodded, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. She glanced around, taking in the disarray before turning back to you. “You don’t look like you’ve slept much.”

“I had a pretty good sleep” you said, voice breaking at how you so could still picturing Joel’s eyes looking at you with adoration last night “But morning came” you said, voice breaking “Joel got his memory back.”

Maria's eyes widened with concern and understanding. She moved closer, gently placing a hand on your arm. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry.”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes again. "He doesn't remember loving me, Maria. He thinks I took advantage of him. He hates me."

Maria's expression softened, and she pulled you into a comforting hug. "I can't imagine how painful that must be for you. But you didn't take advantage of him. You both shared something real, even if he doesn't remember it now."

You clung to her, "I don't know what to do. I feel so lost right now."

Maria pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "Take it one step at a time. Give yourself permission to feel what you're feeling. And remember, you have people here who care about you. You don't have to go through this alone."

You nodded, trying to find some comfort in her words. "Thanks, Maria. I just... I don't know how to face him now."

Maria squeezed your hand reassuringly. "You don't have to figure it all out today. Take some time for yourself. Maybe stay away from the infirmary for a today? give yourself a break."

You sighed, feeling lost. "Yeah, maybe that's a good idea."

Maria smiled softly. "We'll figure this out together, okay? You're stronger than you think, and you have a lot of people who care about you."

You managed a small smile. "Thanks.”

She nodded, giving you another comforting squeeze before standing up. "I'll check in on you later, alright? And if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

As she left, you felt a small sense of humiliation, as if what had just happened was just a small piece of gossip to feed a community.

You stare at the wall for a minute, getting your stuff together. If you could get over what happened before arriving to Jackson, you could follow your life. That’s what you were making yourself believe.

So, you changed into new clothes, placing Joel’s shirt under your bed to not having sight of it again. And with a deep breath you left your house, walking to de infirmary to get your job done.

A broken heart wasn’t really a big issue in an already broken world.  

As you walked to the infirmary, the weight of the morning's events lingered in your chest. The usual bustle of the settlement seemed distant, like a muted backdrop to your internal turmoil. Every step felt heavy, but you kept moving, determined to focus on your responsibilities and find some semblance of normalcy.

Upon arriving at the infirmary, you were greeted by the familiar soft hum of activity. People glanced at you with curiosity, but no one asked any questions. You were grateful for their unspoken understanding, and you quickly immersed yourself in your tasks, finding solace in the routine.

Hours passed in a blur of tending to some Jackson residents, organizing supplies, and ensuring everything was in order. The work kept your mind occupied, though it couldn't completely drown out the ache in your heart.

As the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you saw Maria standing there, her expression gentle yet firm.

"Hey," she said, her voice soft but steady. "How are you holding up?"

You managed a small, tired smile. "I'm getting by. Staying busy helps."

Maria nodded, understanding in her eyes. "I'm glad you're here. I just wanted to check in and see if you needed anything."

You shook your head. "I don’t want to talk. It’s over” you said, avoiding her gaze.

She placed a reassuring hand on your arm. "I know you said you don't want to talk, but I'm here if you change your mind," she said softly. "Sometimes it helps to just let it out."

You looked at her, the pain still fresh in your eyes. "Thanks, Maria. Maybe... maybe later. I just need some time now."

She nodded, respecting your need for space. "Take all the time you need. Just remember, we're here for you."

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, a bit of rage simmered.

“You all were the ones who told me to go for it. You told me Joel was in love for me and him recovering his memory wouldn’t break what was there, but this morning he treated me like a whore and broke my heart.”

Maria's eyes filled with sympathy and regret. "I know, and I'm so sorry for what you're going through. We all believed it would be different. Joel... he's complicated. The things he's been through have left deep scars. But that doesn't excuse how he treated you."

You took a shaky breath, the pain still fresh and raw. "I just don't understand how it could change so quickly. One moment, we were so happy, and the next... he hates me."

Maria reached out, placing a comforting hand on your arm. "Joel's been through a lot, and sometimes people lash out when they're scared or confused. But that doesn't make it any easier for you. You deserve better than that."

You nodded, tears welling up again. "I just wanted to be happy. I thought we could be happy together."

Maria's grip tightened slightly, a gesture of support. "You will be happy again. It might not feel like it now, but you will. You're strong, and you have people who care about you. We'll get through this together."

Maria gave your arm one last reassuring squeeze before stepping back. You watched her leave, feeling of sorrow. The pain was still there, but you knew it would take time, but you also knew you wouldn't have to face it alone.

Later that evening, the emotional turmoil still roiling within you, you decided to head to the bar. You hoped the familiar atmosphere and a drink might help numb the pain, even if just for a little while. As you pushed open the door, the hum of conversations and the clinking of glasses filled the air, a stark contrast to the quiet despair you felt inside.

You made your way to the bar, trying to avoid looking around too much, but it was impossible not to notice Joel sitting at a table in the corner. His arm was wrapped around Lori, and they were laughing together, looking every bit like a happy couple. The sight hit you like a punch to the gut, the wound from the morning’s confrontation ripping open all over again.

Taking a deep breath, you walked up to the bar and ordered a drink, trying to keep your hands from shaking as you waited, Rick, the bartender, sensing your mood offered a small smile.

“What’s wrong with your face, darling?” he asked, concerned on his eyes.

You graced him with a small, tired smile at the question. “Just a rough day,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded understandingly, setting your drink in front of you. “Well, here’s something to help take the edge off. If you need anything, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” you said, taking a sip of the drink. The warmth of the alcohol spread through you, momentarily dulling the pain.

As you sat there, trying to lose yourself in the comforting anonymity of the bar, you couldn’t help but glance back at Joel and Lori. Their laughter and closeness were a stark contrast to the emptiness you felt. You turned away quickly, not wanting to see any more.

“Is it Joel?” Rick asked gently, his voice cutting through your thoughts.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak without breaking down.

He sighed sympathetically, shaking his head. “Love can be a real mess sometimes.”

You chuckled bitterly. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

The bartender gave you a knowing look. “It’ll get better, you know. It might not seem like it now, but time has a way of healing these things.”

You took another sip of your drink, hoping he was right. “I hope so.”

“If you need anything, just ask me, okay?” he said, smiling at you before going back to his task.

You took another sip of your drink, hoping he was right. “I hope so.”

You nodded, trying to muster a smile in return. As the Rick moved away, you felt the weight of the day pressing down on you again. Lost in thought, you barely noticed the person sitting next to you until you felt their presence.

Turning slightly, you saw Joel, his expression unreadable. Your heart skipped a beat, a mix of emotions surging through you, all the pain, anger, and a lingering trace of love.

Perhaps he was here to apologize.

Joel cleared his throat, looking almost as uncomfortable as you felt. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty.

You stared at him, trying to gauge his intentions. “Hey,” you replied, your voice strained.

Joel shifted in his seat, glancing at the drink in front of you. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to say much more. The sight of him so close, the contrast memories of his tender touch last night and the harsh words from the morning still fresh, made it hard to breathe.

He took a deep breath, his eyes finally meeting yours. “Look, about this morning…I was asking myself if I should let my door open tonight for you to come in the lure or something?”

The laugh he made after that cracked your already broken heart. The sound was harsh, cruel, and it cut through you like a knife. Your eyes widened in disbelief, and you felt your entire body tense.

“You think this is funny?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with hurt and anger. “You think what happened between us is something to joke about?”

Joel’s laughter died on his lips as he saw the hurt and anger in your eyes. “I- “

“What did you mean? you interrupted, your voice rising despite your efforts to keep it steady. “Because it sure as hell feels like you’re entertaining yourself by making jokes right now.”

Joel's face twisted into a bitter expression. “What do you expect me to say? That I suddenly remember everything and I'm head over heels for you? Life doesn't work that way, princess”

Your heart sank further, the cruelty of his words stinging more than you wanted “You don’t have to be cruel to be funny, Joel. You could at least try to understand what I’m going through.”

He leaned back, crossing his arms defensively. “Understand what? That you’re upset because you tried to rewrite a history that doesn’t exist between us? I’m sorry, but I can’t change how I feel—or don’t feel.”

You shook your head, feeling an anger bubbling within you. “You don’t get it.” You said, simply. Taking a seat on the stool, again.

Joel’s expression hardened. “You’re too busy living in a fantasy to see that whatever you think happened between us is over. I don’t remember it, and I don’t care to. Move on.”

You looked at him, fighting the tears. “I will move on from you. You’re not that important.” You looked towards the direction he had come from, not breaking the façade. You immediately spotted Lori who seemed amused at Joels treating you badly. “Go back to your woman, Miller”

Joel’s jaw tightened at your words, and he leaned in closer, his voice low and laced with anger. “You know what? I will. At least she knows where we stand. Unlike you, clinging to some fantasy that never existed.”

Your vision blurred with anger and hurt as you stared at him. “You really think you’re better than me.”

He smirked, a cruel glint in his eyes. “I’m done with your drama.”

The words hit you like a slap, and before you could stop yourself, you balled your hand into a fist and swung at him. The punch landed squarely on his jaw, causing him to stagger back, a look of shock and pain flashing across his face.

The bar fell silent as everyone turned to witness the commotion. Joel touched his jaw, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you, anger and something else—something more vulnerable—flickering in his gaze.

“Don’t you ever talk to me like that again” you spat, your voice trembling with the intensity of your emotions. “You are the worst mistake I’ve done here.”

Joel's eyes blazed with a mix of anger and shock, but he didn’t say anything. You could see his jaw clenching, and the vulnerability in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, hardened look. The silence in the bar was deafening, every eye on you.

You didn’t wait for his response. You turned on your heel and marched towards the door, your heart pounding in your chest. The weight of your emotions threatened to overwhelm you, but you refused to let Joel see you break down.

As you pushed the door open, the cool night air hit your face, offering a small respite from the intensity of the bar. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the tears you had been holding back finally spilled over. You wiped them away angrily, not wanting to show any more weakness.

As you stormed out into the night, the tears mingling with the cool air, you heard the door swing open behind you. Heavy footsteps quickly followed, and you knew who it was before you even turned around.

"Hey," Tommy called out, his voice filled with concern. "Wait up."

You spun around to face him, your anger and hurt bubbling over. "What do you want, Tommy?" you snapped, your voice trembling with emotion. "Did you come to see the fallout of your brother's words?"

Tommy stopped a few feet away, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "I came to check on you," he said softly. "I saw what happened in there. Are you okay?"

You laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and broken. "Do I look okay to you, Tommy? Your brother just ripped my dignity there?”

Tommy's eyes were filled with sympathy. "I know Joel can be a real asshole sometimes. But he's just confused. This whole memory thing has messed with his head."

You shook your head, the tears streaming down your face. "No, Tommy. This isn't his memory. He doesn't care about me. He never did. He never will”

Tommy took a step closer, his expression pained. "That's not true. I know my brother, and I know he cared about you. He's just scared. He doesn't know how to handle this."

You scoffed, the anger boiling over. “Care about me?” you laughed. “He was just dumfounded. What you saw inside is the real him.”

Tommy's face twisted with concern, his eyes pleading for you to understand. “Look, I know it seems like that right now, but Joel’s been through a lot. This memory thing has him all messed up.”

You shook your head, your voice trembling. “No, Tommy. You didn’t hear the things he said. He thinks I took advantage of him. He doesn’t remember any of the good times, any of the moments we shared. He just sees me as some... some opportunist.”

Tommy sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know what to say. Joel’s always been stubborn, and this whole situation is making it worse. But you’re not alone in this. We all care about you.”

“Caring about me doesn't fix what he did," you said, your voice breaking. "He treated me like I was nothing.”

“I get it. I really do,” Tommy replied, his voice softening. “Just... give it time. Maybe things will get clearer.”

“Time won’t change what he said. It won’t change how he made me feel,” you replied, the bitterness in your voice evident.

Tommy opened his mouth to speak but then closed it, realizing there were no words that could ease your pain. He took a step back, giving you space. “I’m here if you need me. Just remember that.”

“I don’t need the baby miller protecting me.” You spoke. “From now on, I’m just the nurse and if you need me patrolling, I don’t want Joel near me.”

Tommy's face fell slightly, but he nodded, understanding the gravity of your words. "Alright. I'll make sure to arrange things so you don't have to cross paths with him."

You could see the concern in his eyes, but you didn't have the energy to address it. "Thank you," you said, your voice hollow. "I need to be alone now."

Tommy hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod. "Take care of yourself, alright?" He turned and walked back towards the bar, leaving you standing alone in the quiet night.

As you watched him go, you felt a mixture of relief and sadness. The night air was cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside you. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to find some semblance of comfort.

Turning away from the bar, you started walking, not sure where you were heading but knowing you needed to move. Each step felt heavy, but you forced yourself to keep going. You would find a way to heal, even if it felt impossible right now.

One step at a time, you told yourself again. One step at a time.

Week one.

You had promised yourself to not having. And Joel had had started to have punctuating headaches.

When he arrived, he noticed another guy standing where you used to be. The unfamiliar face caught him off guard, and a sense of unease settled in his stomach.

"Where's the nurse?" Joel asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

The new guy, a young man with sandy hair and a nervous demeanor, looked up from his preparations. "She asked to be reassigned. Said she didn't want to do patrols anymore."

Joel's heart sank. "Did she say why?"

Before the guy could answer, Tommy walked over, overhearing the conversation. "I'll take it from here," Tommy said, looking at the new guy, who nodded and walked away.

Joel turned to Tommy, his expression a mix of confusion and worry. "What's going on, Tommy? Why'd she ask to be reassigned?"

Tommy sighed, crossing his arms. "She didn't want to be around you, Joel.”

Joel felt a pang of guilt and frustration. "I didn't mean for things to get this bad. I was just... I was trying to deal with everything, I think I handled it wrong."

Tommy nodded. "Yeah, you did. And now she’s moving on as you asked her to.”

Joel's chest tightened at Tommy's words. "I didn't think she'd actually was…I- I thought she’d... I don’t know, understand.”

"Understand what, Joel?" Tommy asked, his tone sharper than usual. "That you were scared and hurt, so you took it out on her? You made your bed, now you’ve gotta lie in it."

Joel ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his mistakes. “Okay what’s so wrong? Since when she is in love with me?”

“Did you know she was the one who brought you back here when you feel and hit your head so hard you forgot about her? Or about all this past year?” Tommy said exasperated, “She was there for you every single day and man, she was scared of letting you in because she knew all this was going to happen.”

Joel's mind reeled as Tommy's words sank in. "She brought me back?" he echoed, a wave of guilt washing over him.

"Yeah," Tommy said, his voice heavy with frustration. "She did everything for you. Every single day. And you just pushed her away like she meant nothing."

Joel felt his heart constrict. He had been so consumed by his own confusion and pain that he hadn’t stopped to consider what she had gone through. "I didn't know. I didn't remember."

"That’s the point, Joel. You didn't remember, and instead of trying to understand, you lashed out at her."

Joel nodded slowly, trying to absorb the pieces of new information.

"You can't just fix this with a few words, Joel.” Tommy added, as if he had just read his brother’s mine. “She had gone through much already.”

“What do you mean by that?” Joel asked, concern came from nowhere.

Tommy sighed deeply, looking away for a moment before meeting Joel's gaze again. "She went through hell before she even got here, Joel.”

Tommy’s words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken pain. Joel's brow furrowed as he tried to grasp what his brother was saying.

"What do you mean?" Joel asked, his voice low and hesitant, the concern now unmistakable.

Tommy looked at him for a long moment, as if debating whether to reveal something he wasn’t sure Joel was ready to hear. Finally, he sighed, his expression softening with a mix of empathy and frustration.

"She was on her own for a long time before she found Jackson," Tommy began, his tone measured. "Lost her family, everyone she ever cared about. Saw things that would break most people. But she survived. She made it here, and despite everything, she decided to stay and help us. She didn’t have to, but she did. And when you came back hurt and lost, she put everything into helping you, even though she knew it was a risk."

Joel felt a lump forming in his throat as Tommy spoke. He had been so wrapped up in his own struggles that he hadn’t seen the depth of what she had endured.

"And you," Tommy continued, his voice thick with emotion, "you were her last straw, Joel. She let her guard down for you, and you crushed her.

Joel’s heart ached at Tommy’s words. He felt the sting of regret deep in his chest, knowing that he had only added to her pain.

"Tommy, I..." Joel started, but the words failed him. What could he say that would make any of this right?

"You need to understand something, Joel," Tommy said, his voice firm but not unkind. "She’s not just some woman who’s here to patch us up and send us on our way. She’s a survivor, just like us. And she deserves a hell of a lot better than what you gave her."

Joel nodded, feeling the full weight of his actions pressing down on him. He realized now just how much he had taken for granted, how much he had failed to see.

That same afternoon, the weight of his guilt and determination pressing heavily on his chest, Joel made his way to the infirmary. He had rehearsed what he would say a hundred times in his head, but the closer he got, the more uncertain he felt. He needed to talk to you, to apologize, to start making things right.

When he arrived, he hesitated at the door, taking a deep breath before pushing it open. The familiar smell of antiseptic and the soft hum of activity greeted him as he stepped inside.

You were at the far end of the room, organizing supplies and preparing to leave for the day. Your back was turned to him, and for a moment, he just stood there, unsure of how to start. But then you sensed his presence and turned around, your eyes meeting his.

For a brief second, something flickered in your gaze—recognition, maybe even surprise—but it was quickly replaced by a cold, distant expression.

"Hey," Joel said, his voice sounding more tentative than he intended.

You didn’t respond right away. Instead, you continued with what you were doing, organizing a stack of medical supplies. It was clear you were trying to keep busy, to avoid engaging with him.

"Can we talk?" Joel asked, taking a cautious step closer.

You paused, your hands stilling for a moment before you turned to face him fully. Your expression was unreadable, your eyes guarded. "I'm busy, Joel," you said, your tone clipped and distant.

Joel felt a pang in his chest at your coldness, but he knew he deserved it. "I know. I just... I wanted to apologize. For everything. I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry."

You looked at him for a long moment, your expression hard. "I don’t need your apologies," you replied, your voice steady but laced with an edge of bitterness. "What’s done is done."

Joel swallowed, feeling the sting of your words. "I understand that, but I still want to make things right. I want to try."

You shook your head, a small, bitter smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "You can’t just fix this with a few words, Joel. You made it clear how you felt. I was so pathetic for seeking tender love in a world like this, and I was so pathetic for accepting it from you."

Joel flinched at your words, the harsh truth of them cutting deep. He opened his mouth to respond, to say something—anything—that might reach you, but you were already moving past him, grabbing your coat and heading for the door.

"Wait," he said, reaching out to stop you, but you brushed past him without a second glance.

"I’m done with this conversation, Joel," you said over your shoulder, your voice cold and final. "If you have something to say, save it for someone who cares or maybe for when you fuck Lori.”

For a long moment, he didn’t move, his heart pounding in his chest as he replayed the conversation in his head. The way you looked at him—so detached, so unlike the sweet person you were—shattered any remaining hope he had of mending things between you. Joel clenched his fists frustration welling up inside him.

And with that, you were gone, leaving Joel standing in the infirmary, the empty room echoing with the silence of everything left unsaid.

Week two.

The distance between you and Joel grew even wider. You kept yourself busy with your duties at the infirmary, throwing yourself into work to avoid thinking about him. Jackson was large enough that it wasn’t hard to avoid each other, especially since you made a point to steer clear of any places where you might run into him.

Joel, on the other hand, wasn’t faring as well. The days felt like they were dragging on, each one heavier than the last. The guilt and the lingering regret of how things had ended between you, was starting to take a toll on him. He found it harder to concentrate on anything, his mind constantly wandering back to you, replaying your last conversation over and over again.

Things hadn’t started bad between the both of you. There was a time, not too long ago, when things between you and Joel had been different—better. When you first arrived in Jackson. He was wary, of course, just as everyone. People with big walls up for protecting the same from the dangers from the outside.

Initially, he had kept his distance, observing you with a cautious eye. But as days turned into weeks, something shifted. You’d taken on the role of a nurse with a quiet determination, and your compassion and dedication gradually began to break through the walls Joel had built around himself.

There was one particular evening when you both found yourselves at a small community gathering. It was one of those special moments for people to unwind and reconnect. Joel, usually reserved and gruff, had shown up with Ellie in tow, and you were surprised to find him engaging in casual conversation, a rare sight indeed.

You and Joel had ended up chatting while sitting around a makeshift bonfire. The conversation had started with practical matters—how best to handle a certain type of injury or a recommendation for new supplies—but soon it evolved into more personal topics. Joel had shared stories from his past life, and you found yourself opening up about your own one.

The old versions of two people trapped in the endless tragedy

The atmosphere was relaxed, and for the first time, you saw a different side of Joel.

Joel was seated across from you, a relaxed look on his face that you rarely saw. His eyes, usually so guarded, were softer tonight. Ellie was nearby, occupied with a makeshift game she’d crafted from scavenged materials.

“So, you actually went through all that trouble for a single, mediocre meal?” you asked, chuckling at Joel’s tale of a particularly botched cooking attempt.

Joel grinned, a rare and genuine smile that lit up his face. “You’d be surprised what we went through to get even a half-decent meal back then. We were pretty desperate.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I can’t imagine. I’m just grateful for what we’ve got now, even if it’s not gourmet.”

Joel nodded in agreement. “Yeah, things are better here. A lot better than they were.”

There was a comfortable silence between you, punctuated only by the crackling of the fire. You glanced at Joel, noticing how his eyes softened as he spoke. “I’m glad you’re here. It’s nice to have someone who understands what it’s like out there.”

Joel met your gaze, his expression sincere. “And I’m glad you’re here too. You’ve done a lot for everyone. For Ellie, especially.”

For Joel, dealing with all of this started to become unbearable the moment migraines hit. They had started as a dull ache, a constant pressure in his head that he could push through if he focused hard enough. But as the days went on, the pain intensified, becoming sharp and unrelenting. The pounding in his skull would come in waves, leaving him dizzy and disoriented. He tried to hide it at first, not wanting anyone to see him weak, but it wasn’t long before people began to notice.

He’d find himself gripping the edges of tables or leaning against walls to steady himself, his vision blurring as the pain surged through him. He hadn’t had migraines like this in years, not since the early days when the world had first gone to hell. But these were different, more intense, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were somehow connected to something else.

Maybe someone, his thoughts screamed.

Tommy noticed too, of course. He had been keeping a close eye on his brother ever since the confrontation in the infirmary, and it didn’t take long for him to realize that something was wrong.

Joel had just returned from patrol; his face pale and his movements unsteady. As he walked through the door of the house, he winced, his hand pressing against his temple. The migraine had hit him hard, and he was struggling to keep it together.

Tommy was already in the kitchen, grabbing a drink when he noticed Joel’s distress. He set the cup down, crossing the room quickly. “You okay, Joel?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Joel tried to force a casual shrug, but the pain in his head made it difficult. “Yeah, just—” He hesitated, trying to find a plausible excuse. “—just got a bit of a headache. My new patrol partner’s been causing me more stress than usual. You know how it is.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Your new partner? We’ve only had him for a few days. Doesn’t seem like he’d cause this much trouble.”

Joel rubbed his temples more vigorously, trying to stave off the waves of pain. “It’s been rougher than I expected, okay? Just one of those days.”

Tommy didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push the issue further. “Alright, if you say so. But if this keeps up, you should get it checked out. Don’t let it go too long.”

Joel nodded, grateful for Tommy’s concern but unwilling to admit the full extent of his struggle. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just need to rest.”

Joel couldn’t even convince himself. He just didn’t find strength to face you.

That evening, the bar was lively, filled with the hum of conversation and laughter. Joel sat at a corner table with Lori, Tommy, and Maria. He was trying to focus on the conversation, but the throbbing pain in his head made it difficult. Lori, noticing his discomfort, kept a concerned eye on him, occasionally reaching out to touch his arm reassuringly.

As you walked in, the bar’s ambient noise seemed to momentarily quieten, and Joel’s gaze instinctively shifted toward you. You moved with purpose, but your demeanor was cold and distant. Tommy and Maria spotted you first and greeted you warmly.

“Hey, it’s good to see you,” Tommy said, waving you over.

Maria offered a friendly smile. “Yeah, come join us.”

You returned their greetings with a nod, but when your eyes met Joel’s, you turned your attention elsewhere, ignoring him completely. Joel shifted in his seat, trying to hide his discomfort, but the strain was visible in the tense lines of his face.

Lori noticed the awkwardness and frowned. “You could at least hide you jealously and stop being a mean bitch” she said to you, loud enough for everyone around to shut.

The bar’s noise seemed to drop as Lori's words cut through the air. You felt every eye on you as the tension escalated.

You turned to Lori, your face hardening. “I’m not here to entertain you or play nice.”

Lori’s face flushed with anger. “Well, if you can’t be civil, then maybe you shouldn’t be here at all.”

Joel, trying to defuse the situation, interjected, “Lori, that’s enough.” His voice was strained, both from the growing migraine and the emotional weight of the confrontation. “We don’t need to make this any worse.”

“No! I’m tired of this bitch being a pain to us just because you don’t love her back” she continued, calling you out.

Joel’s face tightened with a mix of frustration and pain. “Lori, seriously, stop. This isn’t helping anyone.”

You stood tall, your voice icy as you spoke. “I don’t need a lecture from you or anyone else. I’ve been nothing but professional, and this—” you gestured between yourself and Joel, “—is a personal matter. I’m done being the target of everyone’s frustration.”

Joel’s gaze wavered, his eyes reflecting the hurt from your words. “You don’t have to be like this.”

“No,” you snapped, “I don’t have to be here at all. If you want to know why I’m acting this way, it’s because I don’t want to be around someone who can’t see my worth.” Your voice cracked with emotion. “You can keep Joel. I don’t want a man who can’t appreciate me.”

You sighed, taking a deep breath. “I’m so done with all your pity because the man I’m in love with doesn’t remember loving me. But life moves on, and so do I. I’m done being the center of anyone’s misplaced sympathy.” You sighed a little, embarrassment creeping up your body “I’m just- I want you all to stop talking about me as if I’m a broken little girl, please.”

With a final, resolute glance at the group and the rest of people inside, you turned and walked out of the bar. The door swung shut behind you, the muffled noise of the bar fading as you stepped into the night.

Joel froze there, the harsh sting of your words lingering.

The man I’m in love with.

Why did you even love him?

Joel’s heart pounded in his chest as he processed your words. The sting of your rejection mixed with the searing pain in his head, making it hard to think clearly. He stood frozen for a moment, watching you leave, his mind racing with regret and confusion.

After a few seconds, he shook himself out of his daze. He could feel Lori’s eyes on him, her frustration still palpable. Ignoring her, Joel pushed himself up from the barstool, his movements tense and hurried.

“Sorry, I need to go,” he muttered, his voice rough and distant. He didn’t wait for a response and headed for the door. As he stepped outside, the cool night air hit him, offering a brief reprieve from the oppressive atmosphere of the bar.

Joel saw you standing just outside the bar, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed tightly over your chest. The cool night air seemed to accentuate the solitude you radiated, and the flickering streetlight cast uneven shadows over your face. Joel’s heart ached as he approached, the intensity of his migraine fading into the background compared to the weight of his regret.

He stopped a few feet away, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "Hey," he said, his voice rough but gentle. "I didn't mean to... to make things worse tonight."

You looked up, your eyes meeting his. They were red-rimmed, a sign of the emotional toll the evening had taken. "What do you want, Joel?" Your voice was quiet but edged with defiance.

Joel shifted uncomfortably, the words coming out in a rush. "I know I screwed up. I know I can’t undo what’s been done. But I want you to know that I’m sorry. I was a damn fool, and I didn’t see how much you were hurting."

You shook your head, looking away. "It’s too late for apologies. You made your choices."

“I know,” Joel admitted, his voice heavy with sorrow.

“Go back inside to your woman” you said, voice steady yet the truth of the words cut your throat.

Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with an aching with regret and yearning. He could feel the pounding in his head lessen, as if your presence, though tense and fraught with pain, was soothing the storm within him.

He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. "I don't want to go back inside. I came out here to talk to you. I need to explain—"

You cut him off, your voice colder now. "I don’t want explanations, Joel. I want you to be honest with yourself and with me."

Joel's expression faltered, his usual resolve wavering under the weight of his migraine and the emotional strain. "I don't know what to say," he admitted quietly. "Every time I try to make things right, I just seem to make it worse."

"Look," Joel said, taking a step closer, though he kept a respectful distance. "I know I can’t fix everything right now, and I know I’ve hurt you more than I ever intended. But if there's any chance at all to mend things, I want to try. I need to try."

You glanced at him, feeling the strange mix of emotions. His presence, his apology, even his struggle, created a confusing pull. You nodded, not trusting your voice.

"Just... take things slow," you said finally, your voice softening slightly. "Show me, don’t just tell me."

You gave him one last, lingering look before turning away, the night air feeling strangely lighter as you walked back toward your house. Joel watched you go, a fragile sense of relief mingled with the lingering weight of his migraine.

Joel nodded, his heart aching.

Week three

The situation between you and Joel remained tense and unresolved. Despite the brief moment outside the bar, there was still an emotional chasm between you two. Meanwhile, Joel's migraines continued to worsen, each one more debilitating than the last. The pain had become a constant companion, gnawing at him, making it difficult to focus on anything else.

Tommy had been watching his brother closely, his concern growing with each passing day. He had noticed how Joel winced at the slightest noise, how he gripped the edges of tables to steady himself, and how he often retreated to dark corners to try and alleviate the pain. Tommy knew something had to give, and he wasn't sure how much longer Joel could keep this up, especially with patrols still on the agenda.

During the morning, as the patrol assignments were being handed out, Tommy pulled Joel aside. “You sure you’re up for this?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. “These migraines… they’re getting worse, Joel.”

Joel nodded, though the movement sent a sharp pain through his temples. “I’ll be fine,” he muttered, not wanting to admit how bad things had really gotten. “Just need to keep moving, keep my mind off it.”

Tommy sighed, not entirely convinced. “Alright, but I’m pairing you up with someone who won’t hesitate to call for backup if things go south.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, wondering who Tommy had in mind. His answer came when you walked into the room, your expression unreadable as you glanced at Tommy, then at Joel.

“You’re on patrol with Joel today,” Tommy said, his tone firm, leaving no room for argument. “Consider it part of the consequences for that little outburst at the bar the other night.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but then closed it, seemingly deciding against saying anything. Instead, you simply nodded, surprising both Tommy and Joel.

Due to your situation with Joel, you would have argued, pushed back, but you didn’t. Whether it was out of a sense of duty, or because you had your own reasons for going along with the assignment, neither man could tell.

Joel looked at you, his expression hard to read. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he knew that this patrol was going to be anything but ordinary. The tension between you two was palpable, and the fact that you hadn’t fought the assignment left him uneasy.

As the two of you geared up and headed out, the silence between you was thick, neither of you willing to break it first. The path ahead was familiar, but the atmosphere was charged with unresolved emotions and the weight of things left unsaid.

As you and Joel prepared to head out for patrol, Tommy pulled you aside, his expression serious. “Listen, I know things are tense between you two, but if Joel starts feeling bad, you come back immediately. No heroics, no pushing through it. Understood?”

You nodded, not meeting Tommy’s eyes. “Understood,” you replied, your tone neutral. The truth was, you didn’t know how you felt about being on patrol with Joel, but you weren’t going to argue with Tommy’s orders.

Tommy looked at you for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but he held back. Instead, he just gave you a small nod before turning back to Joel, who was adjusting his gear a few feet away.

Joel caught Tommy’s eye, and there was a silent exchange between the brothers—Tommy’s concern evident, and Joel’s stubborn determination clear.

Once outside the gates, the silence stretched between you and Joel, heavy and uncomfortable. The forest around you was quiet, the only sound was the crunch of your boots on the dirt path. You kept your eyes ahead, focused on the task at hand, but you couldn’t help but be aware of Joel’s presence beside you.

As you walked, you noticed something strange. Joel, who had been rubbing his temples and wincing in pain earlier, seemed to be a bit more at ease. The tight lines of pain on his face had softened, and he wasn’t clutching his head like he usually did.

You didn’t want to think too much about it, but you couldn’t help but wonder if your presence had something to do with it.

Joel, too, was aware of the change. He had been bracing himself for another wave of pain, expecting the migraine to hit hard as it had been for days now. But instead, he felt… better. The pain was still there, lurking in the background, but it was muted, manageable. And the only thing that had changed was that you were with him.

As you continued walking, the strange shift in the atmosphere didn’t go unnoticed. Joel glanced at you every now and then, his brow furrowing slightly, as if he was trying to figure out what had changed. You kept your focus straight ahead, but the weight of the unspoken tension between you two was hard to ignore.

After a while, you slowed down and finally came to a stop, gesturing for Joel to halt as well. Without saying anything, you walked over to your horse and untied a small bouquet of flowers that had been carefully wrapped and secured to the saddle.

Joel watched, puzzled, as you held the bouquet tightly in your hand. "Just... just wait for me here for a bit," you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. There was a softness to your tone that caught Joel off guard, and he nodded, sensing that whatever you were about to do was important.

You walked a short distance off the path, through the dense trees and underbrush, until you reached a small clearing. The air was still, and the only sound was the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze.

Joel stayed where he was, leaning against his horse, but his eyes followed you, curiosity and concern mingling in his expression.

In the clearing, you knelt down beside a small, unmarked grave, the earth slightly raised from where you had buried your boyfriend two years ago.

You placed the bouquet gently on the grave, your fingers lingering for a moment on the petals. Your heart ached with the familiar pang of loss, the pain of carrying love for someone who was no longer here. It was a pain you had learned to carry with you, but it never really went away.

As you knelt there, a few silent tears slipped down your cheeks, and you quickly wiped them away. This was a private moment, one you hadn’t shared with anyone, not even Joel. He had no idea about the depth of your loss, about the man you had loved and lost before arriving in Jackson.

When you finally stood up and turned back toward the path, Joel was still waiting, his expression unreadable. You walked back to him in silence, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice soft as his eyes studied your expression.

You didn’t answer right away, your fingers brushing lightly against your jacket. Finally, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "This is where I buried him. My fiancé."

Joel’s heart sank as he remembered the voice of Tommy telling him some things he didn’t even remember about you. And now seeing you here, in this quiet, sacred place, made the weight of your grief all the more real.

"I didn’t know," Joel said, his voice laced with regret. He felt a pang of guilt for not being there for you when you had gone through this, for not understanding just how much you had carried with you all this time. "I’m sorry."

You nodded slowly, still staring at the grave. "It’s been a long time since I’ve come here. I didn’t think I’d be able to handle it, but… I guess I needed to say goodbye again. Properly."

Joel stepped closer, his presence a comforting warmth at your side. He didn’t know what to say, but he knew he needed to be there, to offer whatever solace he could.

"He was a good man," you continued, your voice stronger now. "He was kind, patient, everything I could have asked for. But this world… it takes everything good and leaves you with nothing but memories."

Joel clenched his jaw, feeling the familiar ache of loss that never truly went away. He knew all too well the pain of losing someone you loved, the emptiness that followed, the way it changed you forever.

"He deserved better," you said, your voice cracking slightly. "He deserved a future, a life. But instead… he got this."

Joel rested his hand gently on your shoulder. "I’m sorry," he repeated, the words feeling inadequate but all he could offer.

But instead of finding solace in his touch, you flinched, the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once. The grief, the anger, the overwhelming sense of loss—it all came flooding back, and you couldn’t handle it, not right now.

“Don’t touch me, okay?” you said, your voice trembling as you pulled away from him, putting a small but significant distance between you. You didn’t want to hurt him, but you needed space, needed to breathe without feeling like you were suffocating under the weight of your emotions.

Joel froze, his hand lingering in the air for a moment before he slowly lowered it, the rejection hitting him harder than he expected. He swallowed, trying to push down the rising tide of guilt and pain that your words had stirred up.

“Okay,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He knew better than to push, knew that you needed time to process everything on your own. But it didn’t stop the sting of your words from cutting deep, reminding him of all the ways he had failed before, all the ways he had let the people he cared about slip through his fingers.

“Peter was the only man who deserved my love,” you said, your voice laced with a mix of bitterness and sorrow. The truth of it stung, cutting through the air like a blade. You didn’t mean to be cruel, but the words slipped out before you could stop them, a reflection of the turmoil swirling inside you.

Joel swallowed hard, the hurt in his eyes evident as he processed what you had just said. He knew you were grieving, that you were speaking from a place of pain, but it didn’t make the words any easier to hear. For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond, his mind reeling from the sudden shift between you.

“I get it,” he finally said, his voice tight with emotion. “You loved him. And he was… he was a good man. Better than me.”

He looked away, unable to meet your gaze, feeling the weight of his own inadequacies bearing down on him.

 “Yes, he was” you said without a doubt. “And that killed him.”

Joel’s heart clenched at your words, the blunt truth of them landing like a blow. He kept his eyes fixed on the ground, the weight of your statement pressing down on him. The silence between you grew thicker, charged with the grief and anger that neither of you could fully express.

“He and I had a kid” you confessed, you heart clenched at the memory of that little boy you took care of for five years of your life.

Joel’s head snapped up at your confession, his eyes widening in shock. The weight of what you had just revealed hit him hard, leaving him momentarily speechless.

“He and I… we had a kid,” you repeated, your voice trembling as you forced the words out. Your heart ached at the memory of the little boy you had taken care of, loved, for five years of your life. The pain of losing him, of losing the family you had built, was still fresh, a wound that hadn’t even begun to heal.

Joel’s expression softened, the anger and frustration that had been simmering beneath the surface giving way to something deeper—compassion, understanding, and an overwhelming sense of sorrow for everything you had lost. He could see the pain etched into your features, the way your shoulders slumped under the weight of your grief, and it broke something inside him.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He didn’t know what else to say.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you quickly wiped them away, not wanting to break down in front of him. “His name was Sam,” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. “He was just a baby when we found him, abandoned… we took him in, raised him as our own. And then, one day” you sobbed, “They killed him…Those fucking soldiers killed him.”

“Peter and I had planned on how leaving all behind, he had hear about Jackson from a friend, and then he trusted the wrong people.”

Joel’s breath caught in his throat as he listened to you, the horror and anguish in your voice cutting through him like a knife. He could see the pain etched deeply into your features, the way your body trembled with the force of your grief. The image of what you had endured—losing not just your partner but the child you had raised together, taken away in such a cruel and senseless way—was almost too much to bear.

“They killed him,” you repeated, your voice thick with emotion as tears streamed down your face. “They took everything from me… from us. We just wanted to be safe, to give him a life that meant something. But those soldiers… they didn’t care. They saw us as a threat, as nothing more than collateral damage.”

Joel’s fists clenched at his sides, anger surging through him at the thought of what had been done to you and your family. He knew the kind of world you were living in, where trust was a dangerous thing, and hope could be ripped away in an instant. But knowing it didn’t make it any easier to accept.

“I’m so sorry,” Joel murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He wanted to say more, to find the right words to ease your pain, but everything felt inadequate in the face of such a profound loss.

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself as you continued. “Peter and I… we had it all planned out. We were going to leave everything behind, start over in Jackson. He had heard about it from a friend, and it seemed like the only chance we had. But… he trusted the wrong people.”

Your voice broke again, the sobs coming harder now as you relived the nightmare. “They promised us safe passage, said they’d get us out. But it was a trap. They turned us over to the soldiers, and Sam… he didn’t stand a chance. He was just a little boy. He didn’t even know what was happening…”

Joel felt a lump in his throat, his own emotions threatening to overwhelm him as he watched you unravel before him.

Without thinking, Joel stepped closer, pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly against him. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to offer empty words of consolation. He just held you, letting you cry against his chest, his hand gently stroking your back in an attempt to soothe you.

The world had gone eerily quiet after the gunfire ceased, the only sounds left were your ragged breaths and the distant cries of crows circling overhead. You could still feel the heat from Peter’s body fading beneath your hands, his blood soaking into the earth beneath him. The image of his lifeless eyes, staring blankly up at the sky, was seared into your mind, a horrific reminder that he was gone, that the man you loved, the father of your child, was never coming back.

You had been too stunned to cry, too numb to feel anything beyond the cold realization that you were alone.

Hours seemed to pass in a blur before you finally forced yourself to move. You couldn’t stay there, not with Peter’s body cooling beside you, not with the knowledge that those men might come back to finish what they started. So, you rose on shaky legs, your heart pounding in your chest, and stumbled away from the scene of the massacre, your mind numb as you left him behind.

The sun had begun to set by the time you found the old cabin, hidden deep within the woods. It was small, decrepit, with broken windows and a door that hung askew on its hinges, but it was shelter, and that was all that mattered. You pushed open the door and stepped inside, the musty smell of decay filling your nostrils as you surveyed the dark, empty space.

It felt wrong to be alive, to still be breathing when Peter wasn’t, when Sam wasn’t. But survival was instinctual, and something inside you kept pushing you forward, kept you searching for a way to stay alive, even when all you wanted was to curl up and disappear.

You sank to the floor, your back pressed against the rough wooden wall as the tears finally began to fall. They came slowly at first, like a trickle, but soon they turned into gut-wrenching sobs that echoed through the empty cabin. You clutched your knees to your chest, rocking back and forth as the storm outside began to roll in.

The wind picked up, howling through the trees and rattling the cabin’s fragile walls. Rain began to pour in heavy sheets, drumming against the roof and leaking through the cracks, pooling on the floor around you. Lightning flashed, illuminating the dark interior in brief, blinding bursts, and the thunder that followed was so loud it shook the very foundation of the cabin.

You were alone for the first time in years, truly, devastatingly alone. The weight of that realization crushed you, making it hard to breathe, hard to think of anything other than the emptiness that stretched out before you. The storm outside mirrored the chaos inside you, the violence of it a reflection of the torment that raged in your heart.

Maria and a group of people found you two days later

And you had become terrified of storms ever since.  

You stiffened in Joel’s arms, the overwhelming flood of emotions too much. You couldn’t let yourself be comforted, couldn’t let someone else get close, not after everything you’d lost. The fear of opening up, of allowing yourself to be vulnerable again, was suffocating.

“Don’t,” you whispered, your voice cracking as you stepped back, pulling away from him. “Don’t touch me.”

Joel’s arms fell to his sides, the rejection clear in his eyes as he took a step back, giving you the space you needed. The hurt in his expression was evident, but he didn’t push, didn’t try to reach out for you again.

“You just feel pity because you see me as a broken doll” you said.

Joel’s expression tightened, his brow furrowing as your words cut through the air like a knife. He opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, clearly struggling with how to convey what he was feeling. The accusation hung between you, heavy and bitter, and the silence that followed felt suffocating.

“I don’t—” Joel started, his voice low and rough. He took a breath, trying to gather his thoughts, but the hurt in his eyes was unmistakable. “I don’t see you that way.”

“Then why are you here, Joel?” you demanded, your voice rising with the pent-up frustration and pain. “Why are you trying so hard to be… whatever this is? You didn’t care before, but now you do because I’m broken?”

“How were you so sweet to everyone after what happened?” he finally asked, his voice tinged with a mix of confusion and a hint of disbelief. It was as if he couldn’t comprehend how you managed to keep going, how you could still find kindness within you after everything you’d endured.

You looked at him, your expression softened by the lingering sadness, but there was a strength behind your eyes, a resilience that had kept you moving forward. “Because I didn’t lose them because of you all,” you said quietly, your voice steady despite the pain that laced your words. “I wasn’t going to become angry at the people who gave me another chance.”

The truth of your statement hung in the air, a stark contrast to the turmoil you felt inside. You had chosen to protect the small bit of humanity you had left, to hold onto the kindness that others had shown you when you needed it most. But that didn’t mean the anger, the grief, or the pain had disappeared—it was still there, buried deep, threatening to consume you if you let it.

Joel looked down, his shoulders sagging slightly as he absorbed what you said. He understood the weight of guilt, the way it could twist inside you, making you question everything. He had carried his own burden of guilt for years, but hearing you speak those words, seeing the strength it took for you to hold onto the good in the face of so much loss, it humbled him.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, the words barely above a whisper. “I wish I could take it all back, change what happened. What I did to you and how I treated you the morning you woke up in my bed” he sighed, “Sorry for not remember what happened between us”

You looked at him, your eyes filled with a quiet, resigned sadness. “It doesn’t change anything, Joel. It’s done. I can’t change the past either.”

Joel’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your words settling heavily on him. The finality in your voice, the distance between you, made him feel even more lost, and he turned away, the ache of regret and loss deepening with each step he took.

Joel walked away, his steps heavy and deliberate. The weight of your words hung over him, a constant reminder of the things he couldn’t change, the pain he had caused. Each step felt like a step further from any hope of repairing what had been broken.

You watched him go, the solitude of the moment pressing in around you. The quiet was suffocating, filled with the echoes of the past and the weight of unspoken words. You turned back toward the grave, the memories of what you had lost mingling with the present pain.

A simple affair, torturing you.

+

Grieving the death and grieving the living were taking a tool on you.

Week four

A week had passed since that tense confrontation. The days had been a blur of activity and emotional exhaustion, the storm within you a constant companion. The quiet conversations with others and the daily routines in Jackson offered little distraction from the lingering sadness, but they kept you moving forward, one step at a time.

Everyone could say than a simply affair would dissipate with the time, that each week would make you unlove Joel, but you couldn’t take a complete distance from your lingering feelings.

And Joel? Joel had kept his distance, following your request for space. His presence was felt in the background, a reminder of the unresolved tension and the feelings that had been left hanging in the air. You had seen him around, in passing, but there was an unspoken agreement that he would not intrude upon your space.

He couldn’t bear to face you.

One morning, as you prepared for another day at the infirmary due to Tommy’s request, you found yourself in the familiar surroundings of the clinic. The routine was a small comfort amidst the chaos of your emotions. The soft hum of medical equipment and the scent of antiseptic filled the air, offering a sense of order and control.

As you were organizing supplies and checking on your patients, a familiar voice broke through the calm. “Hey.”

You looked up from your tasks to see Joel standing in the doorway, his expression a mix of hesitation and resolve. He seemed slightly out of place in the clinical setting, but there was a determined look in his eyes.

“Joel,” you greeted, your voice steady but tinged with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Joel took a step inside, his gaze scanning the room before settling on you.

“I’ve been trying to find the right time to give this to you,” Joel said, his voice a bit rough, as if he was struggling to find the right words.

Curiosity mingled with the apprehension you felt. “What is it?”

Joel took a deep breath, stepping closer but still maintaining a respectful distance. “It’s a little something I thought might help. I know it doesn’t fix anything, but I wanted to offer it to you anyway.”

You hesitated for a moment before reaching out to take the package from him. It was small and wrapped simply, the gesture surprisingly thoughtful given the circumstances. You carefully unwrapped it, revealing a worn leather-bound journal. The cover was embossed with a delicate pattern, and as you opened it, you found pages filled with blank lines, waiting for your thoughts and feelings.

“You can write on it,” Joel said softly. “And I thought maybe, if you wanted to, this could be a place for you to put everything that’s been on your mind. It’s not much, but I thought it might help.”

The gesture was unexpected, and as you looked up at Joel, you could see the genuine care in his eyes. It was a small attempt to bridge the gap between you, to offer something meaningful despite the unresolved pain.

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of gratitude and sadness. “Thank you,” you said quietly, your voice almost choked with emotion. “It’s… thoughtful.”

Joel nodded, a small, almost relieved smile touching his lips. “I hope it helps, even just a little.”

There was a moment of silence between you, the weight of the past week settling in the air. Joel’s eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of the connection that had once been there, while you felt the tug of conflicting emotions—appreciation for the gesture, but also the lingering pain of his actions.

“How are your migraines doing?” You asked.

Joel looked slightly taken aback by your question, the personal nature of it a stark contrast to the more distant conversation that had been unfolding. He studied your face for a moment, perhaps surprised by your concern.

“They’re getting worse every day,” he admitted, his voice carrying a weight of weariness. “But today, I’m feeling a bit better. It’s been rough, though. The migraines have been relentless.”

You felt a rush of blood to your cheeks, concern and embarrassment at the question. “Tommy mentioned it,” you said quickly, wanting to clarify your source of information. “I just—well, I wanted to know how you’re doing.”

Joel nodded, his eyes softening slightly. “Thanks for asking. It means a lot. It’s been tough, but I’m managing.”

The vulnerability in his admission made you feel a pang of empathy. It was hard to see him struggling, especially when you had your own unresolved feelings and painful memories.

“Well, I’m glad you’re having a better moment today,” you said, your voice steadying as you tried to offer some comfort.

Joel’s expression grew more thoughtful, and he gave a small, appreciative smile. “Yeah, I’m holding onto that. Thanks for checking in.”

The silence between you was charged with unspoken emotions. You both stood there, the weight of your recent conversations lingering in the air. Joel looked like he was about to say something else, but instead, he gave a nod and started to walk away.

“Take care,” you called after him, the words carrying a genuine warmth despite the emotional distance that remained between you.

You had settled onto a barstool, a glass of whiskey in hand. The amber liquid was smooth and comforting, its warmth spreading through you as you took a sip. The effects of the alcohol were starting to take hold, making everything feel just a little more relaxed, a little more bearable.

Joel was at the bar, nursing a drink of his own. He hadn’t been particularly social that night, just sitting in his usual spot, lost in his thoughts. As the evening wore on and you became tipsier, you found yourself drawn to him, the comfort of familiarity outweighing the shyness that normally kept you at a distance.

You slid off your stool and made your way over to Joel, the room spinning slightly as you approached him. “Hey,” you said, your voice a bit louder than intended, carrying the cheerful buzz of someone who’d had a few too many drinks. “Mind if I join you?”

Joel looked up from his glass, his expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. “Sure, have a seat,” he replied, gesturing to the empty stool next to him.

You plopped down beside him, the warmth of his presence surprisingly comforting. “You know,” you said, leaning in slightly and grinning, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here this early before. You’re usually so… serious.”

Joel chuckled softly, the sound of a low rumble that was both soothing and grounding. “Yeah, I guess I am. Just needed a drink tonight.”

In the afternoon, the usually calm atmosphere of the infirmary was disrupted by the sound of the door swinging open with a sense of urgency. Joel stumbled inside, his face pale and etched with pain. He moved slowly, his usual steady gait faltering under the weight of his unbearable migraines.

You looked up from your work, your heart sinking at the sight of him. He was clearly in distress, his eyes squeezed shut as if trying to shut out the world. You quickly set aside what you were doing and hurried over to him.

“What do you want?” you asked, intending to sound too rude.

“I—” Joel started, but the words were interrupted by a sharp grimace of pain. “I can’t take it anymore. The migraines… they’re just too much.”

“From one to ten? How much is the pain?” you asked.

“What’s that bullshit?” He cried out.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your own frustration in check. Despite the roughness of Joel’s response, you could see that he was in genuine distress, and you needed to get a handle on his pain level to help him effectively.

“It’s just a way to measure how bad the pain is,” you explained, your voice firm but compassionate. “On a scale from one to ten, where one is no pain and ten is the worst pain, you’ve ever felt, where are you right now?”

Joel clenched his teeth, his face twisted with agony as he tried to focus. “It’s… it’s an eight,” he finally managed to say through gritted teeth.

He had saved that ten.

 The ten was the amount of pain he had when he lost Sarah.

A ten was the pain his heart felt when he looked at you from the distance.

You nodded, quickly assessing the situation. “Alright, I’m going to get you something stronger for the pain. Try to sit down and breathe slowly. I’ll be right back.”

As you hurried to prepare a stronger medication, you felt the weight of the past few weeks pressing heavily on you. The bitterness in your words and his pain seemed to intertwine, creating a tense atmosphere that was hard to ignore. But your focus remained on getting Joel the relief he needed.

You quickly gathered the necessary medication and made your way back to Joel, who had seated himself on one of the examination tables. As you approached, you noticed his breathing was uneven, and his eyes were squeezed shut as if he was trying to block out the pain and your presence.

"Let me check your head," you said softly, your voice gentle despite the tension that hung between you. "I need to make sure there's nothing else going on."

Joel nodded slightly, his face still contorted in discomfort. As you leaned in to examine his head, your proximity made his breath catch in his lungs. The closeness between you seemed to amplify the charged atmosphere, making the air around you feel heavy.

You carefully placed your hands on his temples, your touch light but firm as you assessed his condition. Joel's breath became shallow and uneven, a sign that he was acutely aware of your closeness. He tensed under your touch, the intensity of his pain mixed with the vulnerability of the moment.

"How's that feel?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady as you moved your fingers over his forehead and the sides of his head.

Joel swallowed hard, his eyes still closed as he tried to focus on your touch rather than the pain. "Feels… a bit better," he managed to say, though his voice was strained. "Just… don’t know if I can handle this much longer."

You gave a reassuring nod, trying to offer comfort despite the lingering tension. "You're doing great. The medication should help soon. Just hang in there a little longer."

You both could feel your breathing mingling together, the agony of the closeness taking everything from you.

Joel closed his eyes for a bit, feeling you scent and your fingertips on his temples. In the haze of his agony, there were fleeting glimpses of a night that felt both distant and achingly familiar. He remembered the warmth of your touch, the softness of your lips against his. The kiss you had shared the night before he got his memory back began to resurface, bringing with it a surge of emotions he had long tried to bury.

The kiss had been tender. Joel could almost feel the echo of that moment now, a soft, lingering taste of intimacy that was both comforting and heartbreaking.

He remembered the way you had looked at him, the way your eyes had softened with unspoken words. The image of your face, so close to his, the way you had smiled before the kiss, replayed in his mind with a clarity that cut through the pain. It was as if your closeness was pulling these memories to the surface, forcing him to confront them once more.

Joel’s breath caught as he recalled the warmth of your lips, the way it had felt to hold you close. It was a vivid contrast to the overwhelming pain he was experiencing now, and it made him realize just how much he had missed and lost. The memory of that kiss, the feeling of being connected to you, made his heart ache with a mix of longing and regret.

He let out a slow, shaky breath, trying to ground himself in the present while the memories swirled around him. As much as the past few weeks had been a struggle, this moment of closeness with you was stirring up feelings he had tried to keep buried. Joel’s eyes opened slightly, looking at you with a vulnerability that he hadn’t shown before.

“Sun…” he started, his voice barely above a whisper.

The sound of "Sun" coming from his lips felt almost foreign, yet deeply familiar. It was a term of endearment he had used before his memory loss, one that had held a special place between you two.

“Sun…” he repeated, the word carrying tenderness and longing.

Your heart skipped a beat, the nickname a bittersweet reminder of the bond you had shared. It was a small yet significant piece of the past surfacing, offering a glimmer of connection despite everything that had happened.

You felt a rush of conflicting emotions, the glimmer of hope mingling with a deep-seated fear of revisiting old wounds. The nickname, the touch, the faint echo of past affection—it all stirred up feelings you weren't sure you were ready to confront.

Taking a steadying breath, you stepped back, your hand moving quickly to hand him the medication. “Here,” you said, your voice steady as you handed him the small packet of pills. “This should help with the pain. You should head home and rest.”

Joel looked up at you, a flicker of understanding and disappointment in his eyes. He could sense the shift in your demeanor, the way you were putting distance between you both. “You sure you don’t need any help?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You shook your head, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “No, I’m fine. Just… please, go home. A storm is coming, and you should get back before it hits.”

Joel hesitated for a moment longer, but the look in your eyes told him that you needed space, that pushing further would only cause more pain. With a reluctant nod, he took the medication and turned to leave, his steps heavy with the weight of what was left unsaid.

As he walked out of the infirmary, you watched him go, the storm outside a stark parallel to the storm brewing inside you. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to steady yourself against the wave of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. The fleeting connection, the memories stirred up—it was all too much to handle right now.

You were a bit tipsy, the effects of the whiskey making your steps a little unsteady. Joel walked beside you, his presence a steady anchor amidst the haze of your inebriation. You were both quiet, the conversation from the bar having dwindled into comfortable silence.

As you approached your house, you turned to him, a small, tipsy smile playing on your lips. The intimacy of the evening and the warmth of his proximity were too comforting to ignore. Without thinking, you leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss against his lips. The action was impulsive, driven by a mix of affection and the blurred boundaries of alcohol.

Joel's reaction was immediate. He responded to the kiss, his arms finding their way around you as he deepened the connection. There was a brief moment where the world seemed to hold its breath, the kiss a sweet and tender promise of something more.

When you finally pulled back, your faces were flushed, and you looked at him with a mixture of uncertainty and contentment. Joel’s eyes were filled with a mix of surprise and warmth, the kiss having ignited something within him that he hadn’t anticipated.

“Good night, Joel,” you murmured, your voice soft and slightly slurred as you turned to go inside.

Joel watched you enter your house, his thoughts swirling in the wake of the kiss. He felt a strange blend of hope and confusion, uncertain about what the kiss meant for both of you. But the feelings were there, undeniable and strong.

The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a soft glow in your bedroom. You woke up with a throbbing headache, the remnants of last night a blurry haze. As you shuffled through your routine, the details of the previous evening remained frustratingly out of reach. The bar, the tipsy laughter, Joel walking you home—these were fragments, but the kiss itself was a complete blank.

When you encountered Joel later that day, you greeted him cheerfully, assuming nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “Hey, Joel. How’s it going?”

Joel’s response was curt, his eyes avoiding yours. “Hey. I’m alright.”

You noticed the shift in his demeanor, the coldness in his tone. It was as if he was keeping you at arm's length, his usual warmth replaced with a frigid distance. You tried to brush it off, attributing it to a possible bad mood or personal issue.

Joel had resolved never to bring up the kiss, his feelings of hurt and confusion simmering beneath the surface. He’d come to see the incident as a miscommunication, a misunderstanding that he’d decided to keep buried rather than confront. The bitterness of feeling forgotten and dismissed had solidified into a quiet, unspoken rift between you.

Joel found himself unable to shake the feeling of the day's events. The migraine had ebbed slightly during the patrol, but as soon as he was back in his house, the pain returned, gnawing at him with a persistent, dull ache.

The house was quiet, save for the steady patter of rain against the windows. The storm outside was fierce, the wind howling and the rain pouring down in relentless sheets. Joel’s mood matched the tempest outside—stormy, unsettled.

As he was trying to organize his gear and get ready for bed, his eyes fell upon something on a chair near the door. It was the blouse you had lost that morning when he pushed you away from him, a soft, familiar fabric that he recognized immediately. He picked it up, holding it gently, and his mind replayed that morning events.

Joel held the blouse up to his face, breathing in deeply. The scent was faint but unmistakable—a mix of the outdoors, a hint of your perfume, and something more personal, something that reminded him of you. As the scent reached his senses, it hit him with a wave of emotions he hadn’t fully processed until now. He felt a rush of regret and longing. The migraine that had been a constant presence in his head now seemed to fade slightly as he held the blouse. The emotional weight of his actions, the pain he had caused you, and the gulf that had grown between you all came rushing back

You sat in the dimly lit living room of your small house, wrapped in a blanket, trying to find some semblance of comfort amidst the chaos outside. The storm had intensified, the wind howling and the rain slashing against the windows with a ferocity that made the walls tremble. Every rumble of thunder and flash of lightning felt like a jolt to your already frayed nerves.

You tried to focus on something—anything—to distract yourself from the fear that had settled deep in your chest. The living room was sparsely decorated, the bare walls and simple furnishings reflecting the practical, no-frills life you had tried to build for yourself. But tonight, it all seemed cold and empty, unable to offer you the comfort you so desperately needed.

You glanced at the clock. It was well past midnight, and sleep was elusive. The noise of the storm outside seemed to drown out any thoughts of rest. You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself, trying to stave off the chill that had little to do with the temperature and everything to do with the lonely feeling that had enveloped you.

As you huddled on the couch, the flashes of lightning illuminated the room in brief, stark bursts. Each flash cast eerie shadows on the walls, making the storm outside feel even more menacing. You found yourself jumping at every crack of thunder, your heart racing with each one.

Part of you wanted to reach out to someone, but who? The distance between you and Joel felt insurmountable, and you had made it clear that you wanted to be left alone.

The living room was filled with the sound of the storm, punctuated only by your occasional sighs and the rustling of the blanket around you. You tried to focus on breathing deeply, calming yourself in the midst of the chaos. But as the storm raged on, so did the turmoil within you.

It was during a particularly intense flash of lightning that you heard a knock on the door. Your heart leaped into your throat, and you froze. Another knock, louder this time, followed by a faint call. “It’s Joel. Can I come in?”

The voice was muffled by the storm, but it was unmistakable. Your emotions were a whirlwind of confusion and surprise. You hesitated, wondering why he would come here, why he would seek you out now, but the desperation in his voice made you move towards the door.

You opened it cautiously, the cold wind rushing in and mingling with the warmth of the living room. Joel stood there, drenched from the rain, his face lined with worry and a mixture of other emotions that you couldn’t quite place.

“Joel,” you said, barely above a whisper. “What are you doing here?”

He looked at you with an expression that was a mix of regret, concern, and something softer that you couldn’t quite define.

Words weren’t need for moments like these. Two hearts beating as the silence felt like freedom of the remised prisoner love victim of the passage of time, the destiny or perhaps the fate of cursing spells.

It was there for you to see it and it was there for him to see it, but blindness was his curse. Not remembering was his curse. Joel wasn’t incapable of loving someone, but he was terrified of the pieces of the old him coming to the present where losing people was a daily occurrence.

Joel was terrified of loving and losing the last flame of goodness left in this mad world that had tainted people, but you. There was a pure innocence in your eyes, in your actions and in your kindness and he had come to face his old him through you, the old him that had died with his daughter years ago.

Joel’s gaze lingered on you, his eyes reflecting the soft light from the flickering candles. His voice was a murmur, almost lost in the howling of the storm outside. “You’re afraid of storms.”, he said quietly, his voice low and gentle. It wasn’t a question. He was stating a fact, something you had confessed to him when the love affair between you was burning. 

You looked at him, the realization dawning on you like the slow break of dawn. “You remember.” You whispered.

And you could only hear the steady beat of your own heart and the sound of Joel’s breathing.

I tagged everyone interested in part 2 but I couldn't tag everyone because all got mixed () if you don't want to be tagged you can tell me, if you want to be tagged, you can also tell me

💌 tags: @dreamtofus @paperstarzzz @chewie-bars @hotleaf-juice

@riedswifts @dizzyforyou @prideandaesthetic @chateaujoon

@18dmlk @orcasoul @whirlwindrider29 @frogjumps-world @camy-nyancat @sarahhxx03 @jasminedragoon @cuteanimalmama @eleganthottubfun @skysmiller @nana90azevedo @astralqueenoc

@missladym1981

[starling0rock]

M'SORRY.

NSFW

SUMMARY: You were babysitting Sarah for Joel, as usually, but he came home late and it started to storm. He asked you to stay for dinner by then spilled hot tea on you, so to make it up he uses his mouth and fingers 👄🙏

WARNINGS: Smutt, age gap (not described, but I imagine 20s/40s) cunilingus, fingering, praising, squirting, (idk if this is a warning but reader get tea spilled on her thigh and it burns a bit)

WORD COUNT: 1.7 k

A/N: sweet peas, this is my first one shot, fist Smutt, first time using Tumblr, first everything, k? Please request (if you're able, cuz idk how this singly dangly app works, if you can't do it, just write in the comments🙏🙏) I tried my very best, so enjoy, my lil Joel Miller fuckers💋

Requests that I take:

Pascal and Joel

Sebastian and Bucky

James Hetfield

David Bowie

David Tennant

Johnny Depp

It was late evening, around 11. Mr. Miller still wasn't home so you put Sarah to bed and headed to the kitchen to do some studies. You opened your books and papers, spreading them on the table. The room smelled nice with some coffee, that you made earlier today and some candles that were usually lit for atmosphere. You didn't quite catch the time, that was going fast as you were reading, trying to memories as much as you can, so it started raining and storming outside. You heard as door to the house softly opened with slight creak, and keys being hung on the wall, you turned around to see Mr. Miller that was taking off his boots and hanging a black, damp coat.

"Good evening, Mr. Miller."

"Oh, hey, darling, didn't know you were still here." He said with slightly raspy and quite deep voice.

"Yeah, I didn't want to leave Sarah alone in the house, in case anything happened. But I'm heading home now." You, said as you started to pack your books and papers, and other needed stuff in the backpack.

"Dont worry 'bout it. It's raining, so you can stay, i'll make some dinner, if you don't mind." He offered kindly, as he looked at you with his soft, brown eyes. His arm was on his hip, while he leaned on the counter.

"Mr. Miller, you're being too kind.. it's late, and im sure you would rather go and rest." You answered him politely.

"Now-now, no more 'Mr. Miller' s'just Joel. And I don't mind cooking for a pretty thing, like you." He smiled, his voice was filled with cockiness and teasing.

"Fine, as you say.. Joel." You answered, giving up and chuckling faintly. "What do you have in mind for a dinner?"

"Well.. maybe some cinnamon toasts with tea? How d'ya feel 'bout that, hm?" He asked, preparing a kettle for some tea.

"I don't mind, if anything, I like green tea, two spoons of sugar." You smiled to him.

"Green tea it is." He smiled back and looked at you over his shoulder, then looking back to the kettle. He prepared two mugs, by putting two bags of green tea in each and adding some sugar. When the kettle made sound, telling him the water is boiled, he took it and poured some hot water in the mugs. He turned his body to you, waiting for the tea to be ready.

"How's your day? Was Sarah behaving?" He asked, to fill the silence.

"It was good, thanks. Sarah is really sweet girl, I never have problems with her, today wasn't exception." You confessed

"Oh yeah, she really is, isn't she. She talks a lot about you, seems she really loves you." Joel declared with sweet smile. He looked back at the mugs and added. "Ah, tea is ready."

The man gently took one mug for you, but as soon as he got closer, he slipped on one of Sarahs color pencils and accidentally spilled the hot substance on you. Directly on your lap and abdomen.

"Oh, Ow-Ow-Ow!" You jumped from your seat and the mug broke beneath.

"Shit, darling.. oh are you okay? Be careful, aight? Shh.." He gently wrapped one arm around you, to walk you away from shuttered mug.

"God, I'm really sorry.. let's check if there any burn, okay? M'gonna get you to the couch." He said and led you to the couch, making you to sit.

"I'm so sorry.. does it hurt badly?" He murmured as he kneeled between your legs*

"It's okay.. burns a little." You stated and looked at him. You pulled the wet cloth from your legs, and the one that was on your abdomen.

"Oh, man.. let me check, okay? Just pull your pants down." You blushed at his words, some pervy images flooded your mind, but you tried not to show it, he was righteous man, after all, so you did as he said, slightly moving you hips up, and pulling your sweatpants down. The red stain was clearly visible on your thigh, left from hot liquid, he gently touched it with his finger and you squirmed.

"Poor thing, I'm so sorry.. it'll be alright soon enough, there is nothing serious, alright?" He looked at you, noticing your flushed face. He smirked to himself at such cute sight of you, but didn't moved his hand from your thigh for an inch.

"Mhm." You purred, you couldn't help but notice how strong his arms were and how veiny they are, his fingers were fat and perfect, wondering how full they would make you feel. You noticed him smirking and tried to hide your eyes.

"What's up with that red face, hmm? Is someone enjoying it a little too much?" He teased and moved his hand slightly higher.

"S'nothing." You mumbled, and blushed even more. He looked to the ground.

"Tsk tsk tsk.." Joel chuckled faintly at your reaction.

"Want me to stop, then?" He moved his hand away from your sweet place.

"Mh-mh.." You whined a lil as his hand moved away from the place you wanted it to be.

"Want me to make it up to you, maybe?" He purred leaning his face slightly between your thighs.

"Mhm.." you murmured looking him in the eyes.

"Nah, darling, use your words." He teased even more as his hands were now sliding up and down, and you could feel how calloused they are, and hot on your skin"

"I do.." Words finally came out of your throat. You were shy and embarrassed by such turn in events, but he clearly wasn't. He enjoyed it. He enjoyed seeing you at his mercy.

"Oh baby... Such a poor thing, aren't ya? Mr. Miller spilled hot tea on you, didn't he?etc him make it up to you." He murmured against the sling of your reddened thigh pressing soft kiss to it.

"Bad, bad Mr. Miller." The kisses on your leg grew more open, wet and hungry, your soft gasps only fed his desire. He slowly made his way to your mound. His nose met with the hem of your panties and he slipped the finger under the lacy piece of underwear, teasing soft skin with little hair on it. After you made grumpy noise, he pressed his nose right into your clothed clit, drawing the sweetest moan from you, as his mouth was open on your clothed entrance. He pressed his tounge onto the damp clothing, feeling how you ached and pulsated against it, how much you wanted to feel it inside. Who he was to decline, after such violent event. He quickly pulled your panties aside and instantly covered exposed hole with his warm mouth. You couldnt help, but moan at such action, and burrow your fingers in his, slightly curled, hair.

"Mr. Miller.. please." You begged, and so he pushed his tounge right inside you, tasting you and humming with pleasure. You thighsalmost clenched around his neck and fingers tugged on his curls. He pulled his tounge out only to lick it's way up between your lips, collecting all of your sweet nectar, not wanting any of it to go to waste.

"Such a good girl for me, being all whiny and wet. I bet many boys wanna taste it so bad.. but I'm the only one who did, yeah?" He asked, continuing his maddening sucking on your aching clit. His hand grabbed your thighs, but being careful around the hurt one.

"Y-yeah.." you purr weakly, feeling yourself lost in the ocean of pleasure.

"She is so wet for me, god... I can't help myself." Joel confessed and burried his head deeper into you, one of his hands moves lower to his big, aching bulge, the evidence of his excitement. He palmed himself as he never stopped sucking and feasting on you, like hungry lion that finally find something to eat.

"Fuck, baby...yer s'delicious.." He moaned right into you, his free hand thrust one of his finger inside your core massaging on your walls lightly, while his other hand rubbed himself violently. You couldn't help but moan at his action and feel worshiped, like a goddess.

"J-..Joel..ngah!.." his name slipped from your lips, sending shivers down his spine.

"M'close!" You stated, choking on your words. In response he quickened his movements and fucked you with his fingers, as he wanted the last bits of you, making sure he doesn't have to share with anyone. Just the moment your walls clenched around his fingers, and your fingers grabbed his hair tightly, making sure he doesn't stop, he started to lead you to the complete edge with his fat fdigits hitting all the right spots inside you, curling and moving. When he felt you cumming he instantly removed his fingers, so he could capture more with his mouth, but to his surprise, your legs started to shake vigorously and you squirted all over his face and chest, he was more than happy that it was him, who made you feel like this so he instantly captured your sensetive lips with his and drew all the sweet liquid into his mouth.

"M'sorry.. m'messy" you mumbled closing your eyes with your hand.

"My baby... So sweet for me... You're not messy, nothing to be sorry about." Joel reassured and kissed your puffy vaginal lips again, making out with them sweetly, as you responded with sweet moans. Only when he had enough he moved the cloth of your panties back to its place.

"Such a beautiful girl... Am I forgiven though?.. for spilling the tea on you?" He asked with teasing smirk, leaning his head on your thigh.

"Mhm.. you are.." you smiled to him and he moved away, only to hug you. He gently wiped his mouth with his sleeve and moved you to his lap. He took off your wet t-shirt from tea and his, from your juices, then he pulled you into embrace.

"I'm gonna need to find you some dry clothes.. but not now, 'k?" He ran his hand through your hair, as you burried your face in his neck.

"Mkay.." you responded quietly and snuggled closer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I REALLY DID MY BEST, M SORREY🙏😭

[hugsandharrystyles]

SUMMARY: One phone call was all it took to change the course of your sex life.

Word Count: 5k+

"You're not understanding me right. I never said the sex wasn't good."

"You essentially did," Your friend counters. "He doesn't make you cum," Her voice a little too loud to be on speaker but fortunately you were in the comfort of your own home by yourself. Harry was supposed to be at the gym.

Harry was not at the gym.

Harry was at your bedroom door listening to your conversation. He had just made it back when a very interesting conversation involving his name made his ears perk up.

"Harry is the best sexual partner I've ever had. He's so good- it's a me thing. I've never been able to... finish with someone before," You explain because you don't want anyone to think Harry was bad in bed. He's far from that. He just doesn't make you cum.

"Isn't that the whole idea of sex though? To fucking finish?" Your friend tells you.

"I've just come to terms with the fact that some of the things I like in the bedroom... are not going to be explored."

"What do you mean?" Your friend asks.

"You know, just like... rougher things- kinkier things," you say bashfully.

"Like what?!" Your friend pushes.

"I don't know. Some choking, manhandling, assertiveness- that type of thing. I would really enjoy some casual dominance anytime really."

"Oh, wow," Your friend says.

"I know. I'm a fucking freak," You sigh and drop your head to rest on your bed in agony.

"No! I didn't say that! Hey, I like that type of stuff too. Why don't you just talk to Harry-"

Harry was livid. His heart was beating faster now than any time during his workout. He was so angry with himself that he hasn't made you trust him enough to tell him how you feel. How he hasn't been able to satisfy you. He'd made you think you were a freak.

"No- look. I don't fucking care if I finish or not. The sex is so good, and I just like having him that close to me. He's not very big on... being touchy any time else, which is totally okay, but I don't want to take the time I do have him so close to me for granted."

There was a sudden dip in the bed and a body weight being pressed against you as you laid flat on your stomach. You almost screamed until you felt a hand reach around and wrap around your throat and turn your head.

Harry was behind you, on the back of your thighs, looking down at you with a look you've never seen from him- from anyone.

Your friend droned on, never noticing your silence. Harry grabbed your phone with his other hand still wrapped around your neck and took the phone off speaker, putting it up to his ear.

"Hey, this is Harry. We're a bit busy at the moment- actually we're going to be busy for quite a long moment, so don't call anytime soon." With that he hung up and threw your phone on the bedside table. "So," Harry begins after a quiet minute. "Anything you want to tell me?" He asks. He flips you around so you're lying on your back with him straddling your front, completely at his mercy. You don't know whether to cry or squeeze your thighs together.

"Harry, I am so sorry that you had to hear that. I don't want you to think that-" You're momentarily stopped when both of his hands cup your throat, thumbs under your jaw so he can control your face. He angles your head up, so you finally look into his eyes.

"Look at me when you're speaking to me," He commands. You swear your pussy purrs. You can't help but squeeze your thighs together. You have never seen Harry like this.

"S-Sorry- I'm sorry. I don't- I don't know what to say," You finally get out.

"Tell me what I did to make you be afraid to trust me."

"No! Harry, that is not true at all!" You say angrily. He grips your throat a little tighter, and his eyes become a little sterner.

"Don't raise your voice at me." You audibly swallow. "Were you afraid I would be mad- hurt you?" He asks. One hand leaves your jaw to comb through your hair.

"No, Harry- I know you would never. I just- You're not really into... touching me all that much when we're not having sex, so I didn't want the only time when you want to touch me to be gone." You realized you had misworded your sentence as soon as you finished.

"You think I don't want to touch you?" He asks, and you can't tell if the anger in his voice is pointed at you or himself.

"No- I just-" You're abruptly paused when you feel the hand that was in your hair venture down between your thighs. You were only wearing panties and a big t-shirt, so Harry finds your clit very easily. You moan in surprise in grind against his hand.

"Trust me, I want to fucking touch you," he says. "I thought you were the one who didn't like all the touching," he explains.

"What- why?" You ask breathlessly, your body keening at his touch and the bit of weight he was resting on you.

"Every time I would, you would almost jump or just kind of tense up, so I didn't want to make you uncomfortable," he says and lets a finger tease at your entrance.

"N-no, you just- you make me so nervous," you gasp when he slides a finger into you.

"Why?" he demands.

"It's embarrassing," you whine and turn away from him, but he grips your jaw and makes you look at him.

"Why?" he demands again, and the look in his eyes tells you that you need to answer.

"You're so- I just find you really attractive. Anything you do turns me on, and I just get really nervous," you say bashfully. He adds another finger and curls them to find your spot. Your mouth drops in pleasure.

"You are aware that we are dating, correct?" he asks.

"Shut the fuck up," you whine and try to grind down on his hand. He gives you a pointed look.

"Be sweet to me. Don't talk to me like that," he says and very lightly slaps your face. It causes your jaw to drop and a moan to spill from your mouth. "You like that?" He asks and bends his face down to bite and kiss at your neck while continuing his movements on your cunt.

"Harry," you moan and scratch at his back. He groans into your neck and pulls his fingers from your underwear. He waits for you to stick your tongue out and take his fingers inside your mouth.

"Good," he praises and pulls his fingers from your mouth. He cups your throat with both of his hands and brushes his lips against yours. You tilt your head up and try to catch his mouth. "I want to give you everything you want," he tells you and gives you a passionate kiss.

"You do, baby," you assure him and kiss him again while wrapping your arms around his neck and run your fingers through his hair. He grabs your wrists, resting most of his body weight on you, and brings them to his lips.

"Tell me what you want from me," he demands while kissing your fingers.

"Harry," you sigh.

"No, tell me what you need from me. Don't think I don't want to do this. I am more than willing," he says with a sly smirk. You roll your eyes, and you both laugh. He becomes serious again. "Tell me what will make you cum."

"H, I don't know," you say honestly. "I've just never been able to with anyone."

"Okay," he says. "What do you do when you're by yourself?"

"What do you mean?" You question.

"How do you get yourself off," he expands.

"Oh! Um..." you blush.

"Listen," he begins and shifts positions so that he is sitting up on the bed with you in front of him. He holds your hands in his and plays with your fingers. "You have to trust me if you want this. I'm never going to push you, but I just want you to be comfortable with me," he explains. Your heart twists.

"I am comfortable with you, Harry!" you correct him. "It's just- everything is so intense with you in the best way possible." His eyebrow quirks.

"Explain."

"Like- I just feel everything so intensely with you. I don't mean to boost your ego any higher than it already is-"

"Hey!" He complains, and you both laugh.

"But you're just really fucking hot, and it's hard to be normal around you when you do your sexy stuff," you explain.

"My sexy stuff?" He laughs.

"Yeah, like your deep voice and- and your hands," his hands reach out to cusp the back of your neck.

"Yeah? What else, mama?" He asks and places a feather-light kiss to your cheek.

"Um- well, like this. I- I feel like any time you touch me, I go braindead," you explain. He works his lips up to yours and slips his tongue into your mouth, craning your head back, so he can kiss you deeply. He groans into your mouth when you suck on his tongue out of animalistic need. "I need you," you whine.

"Tell me what you want. Do you want to just keep kissing for a bit? I can eat your sweet cunt or just finger you," he suggests and paws at your breasts.

"Can we- uh-"

"What, sweetheart? Tell me."

"Can we just... dry-hump and make out some?" You ask, your face turning a dark red out of embarrassment of the vulgar language.

"Of course, honey. Come here," he says and scoots to the end of the bed so that he's leaned against the headboard. He grabs your waist and pulls you on top of him, straddling his lap. "Can I take your shirt off?" He asks.

"Of course, Harry. You don't have to be so gentle with me." He gives your face a light smack again.

"Lose the attitude," he commands, and you try to squeeze your thighs together, but you end up just grinding against his bulge making both of you moan. He kisses up your throat while his hands toy with the bottom of your shirt. "You're turned on, yeah?" He asks.

"I'm so horny, H," you whine and grasp onto his shoulders to grind against him better.

"Good," he sighs and tugs your shirt off, eyes widening at your bare tits that he's seen many times. "Fuck," he whispers. He spends a bit of time sucking and kissing at your breasts while you cradle his head to your chest.

"H, I wanna kiss you," you whine, and he finally lets up on your tits. His hand cradles your throat in a firm but comfortable grip, allowing him to move your head in any way he wants to. The tension is high when his lips finally meet yours. His free hand slides down to your ass while yours are roaming underneath his shirt.

"You can take it off," he says against your lips, and you both only pull back from each other to get his shirt off. His lips are back on yours, and his hands slide to your hips, helping you grind against him.

"Can you take your pants off too?" You ask timidly.

"'Course, baby," he says and taps your hips so you will move off him while he takes off his sweatpants. He places you back on his lap once he's just in his briefs. He's hard as a rock, and you can tell he's trying his best not to lose control. You kiss his lips softly, and he moans in surprise.

"I love you," you tell him. "And I trust you."

He smiles. "Thank you, sweet girl. I love you more." His hands move back to your hips and grinds your crotch against his while he slips his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues clash, and you both moan as his bulge presses perfectly against your core. You both breathe heavily against each other's mouths as you grind against him. "Do you feel good?" He asks, and you moan against his lips while nodding.

"So good," you tell him and claw at his chest. "Can we take off our underwear?"

"Don't have to ask, baby. Just tell me what you want, and I'll do it," he assures you. You smile and crawl off his lap to slide your underwear off, and he follows quickly. As soon as he gets back on the bed, you sit back down on his lap and place him perfectly against your pussy. "Ah, fuck," he moans, and his hips flex up. A bead of precum falls from his tip, and you smile.

"I want your cock in me," you whine and grab his fat dick, trying to line him up with your entrance. Before you could slip the tip in, you're suddenly being thrown onto the bed, Harry hovering over you. "What the fuck, Harry?"

"Not yet," he says and begins to kiss down your body.

"But- you said I could have what I wanted," you protest.

"I need you to cum first."

"Harry, that's not important to me," you say with annoyance in your voice. You really did just want his dick inside you.

"It's important to me. Now, I need you to be comfortable with me. Trust me, baby. If I do something you don't like, tell me. If you want something, tell me. Got it?"

"Okay," you sigh. He slaps your thigh, and you yelp.

"You've got some serious fucking attitude tonight," he says.

"I just want you to fuck me- Oh!" You're cut off by Harry planting a kiss directly onto your clit. He spreads your legs and presses your knees to your chest to have full access. He presses his tongue as deep as it can go into your whole and curls it upwards. Your eyes cross as he tongue-fucks you. His eyes are closed in pleasure, and he's moaning like you're the one giving him head. He swirls his tongue inside you before moving to flicking at your clit. "Oh, fuck that's good, Harry," you moan and tangle your fingers into his hair.

"Give yourself to me," he moans against you.

"I feel so good, Har," you tell him, and feel a tightening in your gut that you've only ever felt when pleasuring yourself. "Harry, I feel it."

"Good fucking girl, let me make you cum," he says and doubles down his efforts on your pussy. His hands grip your thighs harshly and spreads you even further. You can't even think about where his tongue is working because of how fast he's going. His head shakes, and he moans so his mouth vibrates against you.

"I- I think I'm going to cum- don't stop," you cry and grasp his hair, holding his face hard against your pussy and grinding however you want.

"Use me," he muffles against you and just sticks his tongue out, letting you use him in any way you need. His hands reach up to tweak your nipples, and that's what throws you over the edge. You swear you black out. It's the most intense orgasm you've ever had, and you feel tears leaking from your eyes from the relief of having an orgasm from someone else. Your hands unleash Harry's hair, and your body twitches as he continues to lick at you. You close your thighs and push at his head.

"Oh my gosh," you sob and gasp for air. You cover your face with your hands as you catch your breath. You hear Harry giggle and feel him kiss his way up your body.

"Why are you covering your face?" He asks and removes your hands, resting his body weight on top of you. "Thank you, baby- for trusting me."

"Thank you for being patient with me. That was the best orgasm I've ever had," you laugh and kiss him. You both kiss for a minute before you reach down and stroke his cock, tapping it against your sensitive clit. His mouth falls agape, and his hips jut forward.

"Do you still want to have sex, or do you just want to cuddle?" He asks to be sweet, but you can see the desperation on his face.

"H, I want you to fuck me, and I want you to cum inside me," you tell him honestly, and he moans as you make his tip catch your hole. He pulls his hips back.

"I- I'm going to be honest. I'm not going to last long because I've been so fucking turned on for so long, so I'm sorry-" You cut off his rambling with a kiss.

"Harry, you are the most wonderful person and boyfriend in the world, so I don't care if you finish quick," you assure him and cup his jaw. "C'mon, Har. Put your fat cock in me. I wanna feel the stretch."

"You're so fucking hot," He moans and slips the tip in. His jaw stays dropped as he slides in further, his eyebrows furrowing together, and you can tell he's trying so hard not to cum. "Ah, fuck. Best pussy I've ever had- it's so- so fucking good," he groans and drops his head to your shoulder. His grip on your waist is bruising as he just moves your body however he wants onto his dick.

"That dick is so fucking good, H," you whine and press your heels against his ass, so he falls farther into you and rests himself against you. Your pussy is sopping wet and tight, and Harry fears he's going to cum when he hasn't even been inside of you for four minutes. He suddenly pulls out quickly when he feels his orgasm approaching. "Harry- what the hell?" You whine.

"It was too much. I'm really trying to last here, you brat," he argues and takes a moment to try and calm himself down.

"I don't care if you cum early, Harry, c'mon. Just want your dick inside me," you groan and grip his waist, trying to shove him back in you. "You told me that if I told you what you want, and you would give it to me. You're breaking your promise."

"Brat," he mutters through gritted teeth and begins to push into you again. As soon as he begins to enter you again, his hand starts to rub at your clit.

"Oh!" You moan, and your thighs tighten around him. Your hands claw at his sides as you try to kiss him through both of your moans. "I think- I think I'm going to cum again," you tell as your tummy begins to tighten again- stronger this time.

"Oh, baby, please. Please cum for me," he begs. You can feel his cock twitching in you, him on the verge of his own release. "Y/N- fuck, sweetheart. You have to cum- Baby, you gotta- I'm sorry," He babbles like crazy, and you don't understand his apology until you feel his cum start to spurt into you, and that's what tips you over the edge. You're a mess of shaking bodies, moans, and whines. "Oh, thank God- good fucking girl," he moans.

As you both begin to calm down, he relaxes himself on top of you and wraps his arms around your body.

"That was a real one, right?" He asks.

"Yes, Harry," you laugh and stroke his hair.

[connorsui]

Safe Heaven

• Zayne x fem! reader

Genre/warnings: fluff, hints of angst (feelings of guilt), childbirth, comfort end , mild vurnability, feelings of helplessness, mentions of heart problems, slight mentions of anxiety and stress, we are not having a good time here..but that's okay!

Synopsis: zayne reassures you of his love as you cover from childbirth

Note: my lawwwdddd it's been such a long time without seeing any of you inside of my house..it feels so foreign ..breaks my heart into little pieces ..howeverrr this moment of silence didn't mean I was left with nothing inside of these neurons of mine-- ur beloved consui has thoughts ..and thoughts she must expel in the form of zayne 🩶

wc: 1.3K

“Every passing day…” you began, your voice almost a whisper, “I feel as though I am becoming more of a burden to you.”

The words hung in the stillness of the room as you lay upon the bed, your gaze fixed upon Zayne, who tenderly cradled the slumbering form of your newborn. The night had settled in with a serene quiet, broken only by the soft, rhythmic sound of the baby’s gentle feeding. Moonlight streamed through the curtains, bathing the room in a silvery glow that softened the edges of everything, lending an air of tranquility to the tender scene before you.

Zayne’s eyes flickered to yours, his brow furrowing ever so slightly in quiet confusion, as though he were searching for the meaning behind your words. “Mmh?” he murmured, his voice a soft note that seemed to vibrate through the still air.

"What do you mean?"

Your heart stirred beneath his gaze, and though you tried to muster a smile, it faltered, laden with the weight of the self-doubt that had quietly gnawed at you. You averted your eyes, feeling the warmth of a slight flush creeping upon your cheeks. “I mean… it has been two weeks since they released me, and I have done nothing to aid since I returned,” you continued, your voice growing softer, almost apologetic. “I cannot help but feel as though I'm—”

Before you could continue, Zayne’s hand, warm and gentle, reached toward your face. His fingertips grazed your cheek with a softness that seemed to still your very breath, his touch lingering just enough to still the torrent of your words. He guided your face to meet his, his expression tender and unwavering, his gaze soft with something unspoken. With a faint smile that reached the depths of his eyes, he whispered a quiet, soothing shush, the sound more comforting than any words you had ever heard.

“Dont say it..." he said gently, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Your only concern should be your own rest, your own recovery… and holding our child with me...” He paused as if steadying himself, his eyes shadowed by memories of a time he wished never to revisit. “You know...when they told me your heart wasn’t faring well during the birth… I can not explain it. It felt as though my very world was fracturing before me. All I could think—” his voice broke, but he steadied it with a soft, trembling breath— “was that I needed you to stay with me with our child in your arms... I suppose at that giving moment I just wanted to see you safe ..in one place..not having to stress over anything ... even now"

The words struck your heart, stirring a depth of emotion you hadn’t anticipated. You sat up, your gaze fixed on him, your breath caught between disbelief and sorrow as you absorbed his admission. Your eyes grew cloudy, softening with tears as you looked from Zayne’s face to the child resting peacefully in his arms, blissfully unaware of the turmoil their entrance into the world had caused.

A tear slipped down your cheek, followed by another, and you looked to your lap, your shoulders trembling. “Zayne, I'm - … I didn’t mean…” you began, but your voice faltered, words catching in your throat. You hadn’t meant to burden him, hadn’t meant to leave him with the fear that your heart might fail you. The mere thought that your own weakness had caused him such distress made you feel small, vulnerable—a helplessness you had seldom allowed yourself to feel.

But before you could stumble further, Zayne’s hand reached out, his fingers warm and reassuring as he placed them under your chin and lifted your face to his. “No,” he whispered, his voice as tender as the night itself. “Stop. Do not apologize for anything” he continued, his gaze so steady, so filled with love that it was nearly overwhelming. " I may worry for your health—and you know that I will— it comes straight from my heart. You are everything to me, and nothing will change that, not even fear."

In that moment, you felt the warmth of his hand, the strength of his embrace, drawing you closer to his chest, with your child nestled gently between you. His heart beat steadily beneath your ear, a reminder of his constancy, his unyielding devotion. You raised your face, your eyes shining as you met his gaze, and you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips that held every ounce of your gratitude, your love, your devotion—a silent promise that only he could understand.

When you drew back, you looked at him with all the tenderness in your heart. “You have given me more love than I ever thought possible,” you murmured, your voice a quiet reverence. “You have shown me, again and again, that I am cherished. I have no words to tell you how much that means… but I am yours, Zayne. Yours alone.”

A soft, awed smile touched his lips as he took in your words, and with gentle care, he rose, instructing you to lie back down. “Rest now,” he whispered, his tone one of loving insistence as he cradled your child close, “I’ll settle our son to sleep.” You watched as he moved to the crib, his steps tender, his every movement imbued with a quiet grace. You thought of all he had done for you in these recent days—how he had bathed you with gentle hands, had held you as you struggled to regain your strength, had prepared every meal and tended to every need without question or complaint.

And as you lay curled on the bed, a warmth settled within your chest, a happiness so profound it was almost a reverence. This man, who loved you so dearly, who had stood by you through every hardship, was yours, and you could wish for no greater gift.

When Zayne returned, slipping beneath the covers, you felt the bed dip beside you, and soon his arms encircled you once more, drawing you close until your cheek rested against his chest, where you could hear the steady thrum of his heart. His scent, warm and familiar, enveloped you, and you felt your cheeks grow warm beneath his touch.

Zayne leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his voice a murmur of quiet devotion. “I love you,” he whispered, the words laced with a depth that only the most profound affections could contain.

A long, comfortable silence fell between you, a silence filled with the unspoken promises of a love that could never be shaken. At last, you whispered back, your voice barely more than a breath. “I love you too.”

In that moment, wrapped in his embrace, you felt truly, indescribably at peace.

If zayne was my doctor I would find ways to get myself in the ER just to see him

[varpusvaras]

When Dick started to spend more time with his team, and started to talk about Wally just as much as he talked about Starfire, Bruce knew that they needed to have a talk.

"I don't care if you like boys or girls", Bruce had said. "Just promise me that you won't date Oliver Queen's son."

Not that he had anything against Roy, Bruce just really did not want to deal with Oliver any more than he already had to.

"Sure", Dick had said, in a way that very clearly implicated that if Bruce ever annoyed him too much, he would do exactly that simply to spite him.

Jason was a lot easier in regards to relationships. No teams or teammates or relationship problems that roused from having several teenagers spending a lot of time together in close quarters. Compared to Dick, Jason always looked younger and smaller, and Bruce didn't even think about talking to him about it. Not yet. They still had time to do it.

They didn't.

Jason was gone, and then he was back, and Bruce really, really did not have the time or even thought to talk to him about dating girls or boys.

And maybe that wasn't even the part that they should've talked about. No, the part they should've talked about was not dating Oliver Queen's son.

Not that Bruce had anything against Roy. He smart and resourceful and respectful (he always volunteered to help Alfred every time he came to the Manor), and he was a good father. That was especially a quality that Bruce could respect. Roy was good to Jason, in seemingly every way that mattered.

It was just that now Bruce had to deal with Oliver. Well, not in a way that he had to see Oliver more often, but he certainly had to deal with him more. Especially since every single time Bruce and Jason had an argument, Jason would spend more time at Oliver and Dinah's place, and Oliver would every single time without fail rub it in to Bruce's face.

After one of said arguments that hit a bit too close to the Holidays, Bruce knew that he had to do something. He couldn't take Oliver's smug face from having all of his kids and one of Bruce's over at their place. Bruce needed to invite them over first. Jason would understand the invitation as the olive branch that it was.

He had called Jason, but it was Roy who picked up. That was good, actually. Roy was many times easier to talk to than Jason. At least he greeted Bruce normally instead of calling him an asshole right from the get-go.

"We could come visit", Roy said, and Bruce took it was the win it was. "I'm just pretty sure that you have something to say to Jason, first."

Bruce had many things to say to Jason all the time.

"Hn", he said.

"That last argument sounded pretty bad", Roy continued, calmly and sweetly. "I'm sure that both of you said things you didn't mean to, but just because you didn't mean them doesn't mean it's okay. So, is there something you would like to say to Jason?"

"Hn." Was Bruce on speaker? Jason hadn't said anything to indicate that he could hear Bruce.

"What's the word?" For a split second, it was like Alfred was on the other side of the line, and Bruce found himself speaking before he could think about it properly.

"I'm sorry", he said.

"Thank you!" Roy sounded like he was smiling widely. "We'll be there, then!"

Roy hung up. Bruce put his phone down, his head spinning slightly.

"I assume that Master Jason and Master Roy will be over, then?" Alfred asked.

"Yes", Bruce said.

"That is splendid to hear." Alfred patted Bruce on his arm. "Good man, that Master Roy. He has certainly read his books on parenting, it seems."

Bruce leaned on his desk, his mind reeling with the realisation that he had just been out-dadded by his son's boyfriend.

A good man, Alfred had said. Bruce couldn't do anything else but agree.

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: LEE KNOW X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: CEO!LEE KNOW, HOUSE WIFE! READER, FREE USE, MORNING SEX, UNPROTECTED SEX, TEASING, SOMNOPHILIA, CLOTHED SEX, ONE (1) ASS SLAP, DEGRADING, CHOKING, CREAMPIE ☾ ━━━ WC: 1.6K ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     October was always busy. It’s when the holidays started and it became busy. Minho didn’t have much to do in the autumn season but dreaded the impending stress. Office holiday parties that he only survived because of his wife and their daughter. His favorite two girls in his life. His eight-year-old seemed to always steal the show. Wanting to be the center of attention which he was okay with. Whatever she wanted, he’d do for her. 

     His wife managed all the conversations at parties while he stood by her side and occasionally butted it. He didn’t know what he would do without her, especially when he was stressed. 

     He used to take the stress of holiday planning out during sex but it was hard with an eight-year-old. It was few and far between now, usually when she had a sleepover with her friends or at her grandparents. 

     Minho sighed as he sat back in his office chair, tired of reading company emails, when his phone rang. ‘Wife💍❤️’

     He smiled and picked up the Facetime call, “Hey,”

     “Hey, babe. You okay?”

     “Yeah. Just work emails. What’s up?”

     “Soojin is spending the weekend with my parents.” His ears perked up at that

     “Any reason why you're telling me this?” Minho smiled as she giggled a bit.

     “No reason. Just keeping you up to date on our baby.” Y/n said

     “Hi Daddy!” he heard his daughter say before she afforded on the screen

     “Hi, baby.” Minho smiled

     “I’m spending the weekend with grandma and grampa!” the little girl happily told her dad.

     “What are you gonna do with them?”

     Minho spent the next few minutes listening to his daughter's plans for the weekend with her grandparents. Where they were going to go and do, etc. All until he heard her grandparents pick her up.

     “Bye Daddy! I love you!” Soojin said and blew him a kiss.

     “Bye, baby. Have fun this weekend.”

     “I will!” she said

     “I’ll call you right back,” Y/n told him before the couple said their I love you’s and she hung up. Minho sat in his chair and looked at the time. Fifteen more minutes and he was off. Then he could go home to his wife. 

     He picked up as soon as she called again. “You didn’t say it because she was in the room.” he pointed out.

     “Actually, she was running into the room because she heard her dad on the phone.” Y/n corrected him

     “Whatever,” Minho rolled his eyes, “But, we're good this weekend?”

     “Min, free use means whenever, wherever. You could tell me to come to the office when she’s at school or at a friend’s house.”

     “This telling me this now?”

     “It's been allowed for years. We used to meet up like that before her.”

     “I remember. Do you know how many times I yelled at my staff to let you in my office?”

     “Don't even get me started on that pick-me of a secretary. I was going to pull her hair out of her scalp every time I saw her.”

     “She was a temp they sent me. She annoyed the hell out of me every time she spoke.”

     “And ignore your wedding ring. And slut-shamed me in front of Soojin.”

     “I'm surprised you didn't do anything then.”

     “Because I had a toddler in my arms.”

     “I’m sure she got fired from that temp company.”

     “Good.”

     The two talked for a few more minutes before he hung up to drive home. Telling her he’d see her soon. Y/n smiled as he hung up. She hadn’t originally planned for her daughter to spend the weekend with her parents but they had called and asked if they could take her for the weekend and her daughter pleaded to go, so how could she say no? Now she had a weekend with her husband without their daughter around. 

     She didn’t have much to do around the house. She had her daughter clean up her toys before she left and she had done most of the cleaning earlier in the day. As well as doing the grocery shopping when her daughter was in school. She had a few minutes till she had to start dinner anyway but she was debating on just ordering in since she didn’t have to worry about their daughter and could have whatever they wanted. And if she knew her husband, she wasn’t going to have time to cook once he got home.

     She pulled up her food delivery app and found one of their favorite restaurants and put in their orders. She didn’t think the food would get here before her husband did but they still needed to eat. It was a gamble she was willing to take.

     She heard the front door open about ten minutes later then a “thank you.” Y/n looked over at her husband as he walked into the living room with their food delivery. “Ordered takeout?” Minho asked as he kissed her.

     “Didn’t feel like cooking since we don’t have a kid to feed,” Y/n told him before taking the bag from him and then walking to the kitchen. “How was work?”

     “Fine, same old stuff,” Minho sighed as he set his bag on the counter.

     “Go sit down then. I’ll bring over the food.”

     “And let you do all the work?”

     “I’m a housewife for a reason.” Y/n gently pushed him toward the living room again just for him to grab her wrists and pull her into his chest.

     “And we don’t have a kid this weekend,” Minho smiled

     “No, but I still have a husband to take care of,” Y/n told him

     “I’m sorry, who took care of who when we got together?” Minho questioned

     “Okay but now it’s my turn,” Y/n argued back

     Minho gave her one more kiss before going into their room and getting out of his suit. Taking a quick shower, threw on some sweats and a T-shirt, and came back to his wife. The two settled in for the night with their food, a couple of glasses of wine, and their recent TV show binge. Just relaxing before heading up to bed.

     Minho brushed his teeth while his wife took a quick shower and got into her pajamas before they crawled into bed. The cats joined them on the bed once the lights were turned off. Though they were gone in the morning. He looked over at his wife and smiled at her sleeping form. It was rare that they got mornings like this now. So he was going to take advantage of it. 

     He cuddled into her and kissed her shoulder as his hand held her hip. Then he realized there wasn’t fabric underneath the nightgown. He peeled back the covers and lifted up her gown. Proving himself correct. He smiled as he laid the fabric over her ass and repositioned her leg, rubbing his fingers between her folds, finding them already slightly wet. 

     The businessman pulled his fingers away and then pulled down his sweats just enough to get his dick out. His morning erection was ready to go as he slowly pushed into her cunt. Hearing her moans while she still slept. His hands went to her chest, pulling the fabric down and exposing her breasts to him. He cupped them in his hands and slowly started thrusting in and out of her.

     “Min,” Y/n moaned, slowly waking up as his thrusting sped up

     “Planning on telling me you went to bed without any panties on? Hoping I just notice?” He asked

     “You did,” Y/n groaned

     “You’re right baby. I did,” Minho nipped at her shoulder before pulling out and fully turning her on her stomach. Y/n yelped a bit as he pushed himself back into her and pushed his sweats down more. Going right back to thrusting into her and intertwining their fingers together. His hips snapped into her ass, drawing his eyes to the fat and watching it bounce a bit. “Naughty girl.” he chuckled as he took a hand and brought it down on the skin.

     “Min!” Y/n yelped

     “Get to make you as loud as I want now. Got no one to wake up if we get too loud,” Minho laughed, watching her bury her face in the pillow.

     He laid against her back and got his free hand under her, pulling her head up and gripping her next, “But you like when you’re forced to be quiet. How many office Christmas parties did we sneak away from just to fuck in my office or a bathroom?”

     “A lot.” Y/n choked out

     “Probably the best Christmas parties I’ve been to,” Minho kissed her shoulder as she squeezed around him. “Horny girl already going to cum? Did you have a nice dream about me fucking you last night? That why you were wet this morning?”

     He watched as she nodded. He kept up with his pace as her walls pulsed around him. He squeezed her neck just a little tighter and that brought on the floodgates. Her walls squeezed him tight, pulling him in, as she rode her high. Minho kept going through it and released her neck, letting her catch her breath as his high overcame him. Cursing as he pumped his cum into her like he was trying to get her pregnant again.

     Once he was sure he had finished, he pulled out and rolled his wife over, pecking her lips and finally saying good morning to her.

     “Should wake me up like that more often,” Y/n giggled

     “I’ll remember that next time I get a hard-on in the middle of the night.” Minho laughed with her.

☾ ━━━━━━ KINKTOBER M. LIST M.LIST    TIP JAR

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

☾ ━━━ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: @bowsnbang @tearfulspark78 @purplesprinkles19 @hanyorustar @tinyelfperson 

@yeetmehome @boldy-49 @seungminsbest @galaxycatdrawz @paborachaslvt

@skzfelixlove @igetcarriedawaywithyou @ihrtlix @kkamismom12 @leenaur 

@annoyingwastelandshark @tajannah-price1 @sillygoosegoose @charlieg1rl @kibs-and-bits 

@lxlsposts @seunmong-in @korthbum @linocvp1d @lesbirino

@emilyhadenbaker @linosoju @moonlightcandy00 @bangtanksea22  @rei-reia 

@possum-playground @doitforbangchan @dreamgardenficrecs @bookswillfindyouaway @mallielovssyou 

@minniesuperversee @seungfl0wer @straykidslover2024 @virluna148 @hyunlixie143 

@rebecca-johnson-28 @spookzyclown @thecutiepieme @kittycatkrissa @whyisaah

@hyvneluv @sunaslut69 @sylveonitesworld @chansbabygirlsstuff @bottlebugg 

[auroracalisto]

day #13: mistletoe

modern au fiyero x gn!reader, 1k words a/n: had a request for mistletoe fiyero. didn't think they celebrated christmas in oz, so i improvised. also, jonathan bailey is so pookie. that is all. tw: reader is overstimulated? alcohol consumption, pre-established relationship but no one knows until now, momentary boq slander but it's lighthearted and not serious at all i promise

Christmas parties for rich people were the worst. Scratch that—parties in general sucked.

From the spiked egg nogg and punch that somehow ended up in everyone's red solo cup, to the obnoxiously loud music that someone decided to play, it all royally sucked.

A game of charades was happening in one of the many living rooms of Galinda's mansion, a few party-goers were out in the backyard looking at the snow while smoking something that definitely wasn't a cigarette, and a strand of mistletoe hung from the ceiling, just out of reach so no one in their right mind could tear it down.

It mocked you.

Called you weak. Useless. Most definitely alone.

Okay, okay, maybe that's a lie and the egg nogg was getting to your very senses.

How did you even get invited to this shit?

Oh.

Right. Galinda. Something about Fiyero, Elphaba, class... It all kind of just melded together after a moment.

Fiyero had begged you at some point, saying it would be so much fun. That if you came, he wouldn't leave your side, wouldn't stop holding your hand.

He's such a liar. But it is what it is. You can't expect such a popular man like him to only stick with you at a party of this caliber, could you?

You sighed and got to your feet, checking your phone. To put it simply, this party was a bust for you. You had hoped to get something out of it, anything, but honestly, all you had gotten was a mild panic attack from the loud noises and the inkling of a headache that riddled it's way deep into your bones.

It was nearly midnight.

You began to make your way to the door, pulling out your phone to call a friend to come and pick you up. Maybe text your boyfriend and tell him you were just going home.

You didn't make it very far when he calls your name.

You quickly whipped your head around to see him—Fiyero.

He had disappeared after your second cup of punch and your first cup of egg nogg (which was much better here than you imagined—perhaps the spiked part muted out the rest of it). He has that sweet little smile of his as he walked over to you.

He pointed up to the ceiling once he came upon you.

"Mistletoe," he simply said.

You stared him down before your eyes flickered upwards. He was right—mistletoe hung just above you. Of course it did.

You couldn't ever catch a break, could you?

You grumbled under your breath, rolling your eyes. "For fuck's sake."

He grinned at you. "I mean, I feel like that's a bit too far for mistletoe, but if you want to—"

"Oh my god, stop it!"

He let out a laugh at your mild anguish, a smile forming on his lips. "Come now, love, it's just mistletoe. We could kiss if you wanted."

You blinked slowly. Is that what you wanted? To kiss him?

Yes. Oh, god, you've wanted to kiss him for ages now. Not just little pecks here and there, on the check or on the forehead.

Christmas party at Galinda's be damned. You'd wanted to know how he kissed for months. A real, public kiss, that showed everyone that you belonged to him and vice versa. A kiss that would change how everyone saw your relationship between each other.

"Don't tell me you're trying to leave, love," he softly said, motioning towards your phone. "Party's not even really started if you ask me."

You huffed. "I didn't ask you," you said. "You've ignored me most of the night. I've resorted talking to Boq and my cup of egg nogg like a crazy person."

He snorted softly. "You are being ridiculous," he said. "I did spend time with you."

"Right, right," you said, crossing your arms over your chest. "Before you went off and left me with Boq."

"Is Boq truly all that bad?"

You pouted up at him.

He smiled down at you, tilting his head as he watched you. "Now. I'll repeat myself," he said. "Mistletoe. Christmas party. People all around."

You took a moment to realize just how many people were in the living room. Had you really been that much in your mind that you didn't realize the crowd that had migrated inside?

"Kiss or no kiss. It's up to you," he said.

"Maybe I'll go grab Boq. Kiss him under the mistletoe instead."

He snorted softly. "You wouldn't."

You narrowed your eyes at him. You go to walk back to the sofa where you saw Boq's red curls.

He quickly reached out and grabbed your wrist.

"Do not do that," he said, narrowing his eyes at you. "Come on, please," he said. "I'm sorry for disappearing on you. I didn't mean to."

You huffed softly. You knew he was being earnest—you could see it in his eyes. You looked away, frowning.

He gently nudged your cheek with his knuckle. "Look at me," he softly said. "Let me prove to you how sorry I am."

You gave a quick and curt nod, and he immediately leaned forward, a hand to the back of your neck as he pulled you in for a rather deep kiss.

Lips molding with yours, his hand at the base of your neck fitting just perfectly. His teeth gently nipped at your bottom lip, and you would have granted him access had it not been for the need to breathe. Damn alcohol inhibiting all of your senses.

You sucked in a soft breath as you looked up at him, feeling the warmth of... something spread throughout your body. What was it? It wasn't anxiety. Wasn't excitement. No, no... it was...

"Do you know how long I've wanted to do that for?" Fiyero asked, leaning forward and pressing a second but rather quick kiss to your lips. "Ages, love."

You licked your lips nervously. Oh, you knew that feeling well. Joy.

Perhaps Christmas parties weren't all that bad.

They seemed to make your secret boyfriend not-so-secret after all (judging by the hush and the bruises that now rested on several partygoers' arms).

You tossed your phone onto the sofa nearby, hands gently gripping at his jacket. You pulled him close and kissed him again, feeling as his arms wrapped around you.

Lips to lips, bodies to bodies, the mistletoe watched as its tradition granted yet another kiss to those who deserve it.

[mayxxday]

how bakugou would react to his child telling his mom to shut up?

Katsuki has always had his doubts when it came to parenthood. However the first day he held his baby boy to his chest after his birth, he felt all his fears disappear in thin air. The comfortable weight of his tyke somehow was enough to silence his fears of being a good father.

When he found his little brat inherited the same quirk as him, he was over the moon. Their bond only grew stronger and stronger through their endless training and practice at his agency. After all, if Katsuki was anything, he was a family man.

With his son growing in a young adolescent, Katsuki could see only more of himself in his boy. The same brash attitude he once strutted around the campus of his middle school. Their mannerisms hardly differed as they sat discussing on the couch, his sweet little wife tucked under his arm.

"This is heaven" He couldn't help but think. There he was, living a life his younger self could never have imagined. Yet this was all he needed. The most important two people of his life, right here with him. The explosive pro hero's train of thought was rudely interrupted however by the loud sneer of his son.

"Shut it mom- we're busy"

The words that left his son's mouth in a fleeting moment, left a bitter look on Katsuki's face. How could Katsuki ever miss the way his wife tensed under his arm, a look at her and he would have seen the tears that rushed to her lash line. However he didn't know if he was strong enough to see that at the moment.

Had he not been holding his wife to his side, he would have flown into a rage. Katsuki loved his boy to pieces, but his wife had been the one to teach him how to love. His wife had stuck out his explosiveness, all the crude remarks and his constant hot and cold behavior throughout his UA years, and made herself a home in his heart. So no matter who it was, Katsuki wasn't gonna have it.

"What did you say, brat!"

Katsuki snaps back, his voice dangerously low as if daring his son to try to repeat himself. Holding his wife protectively to his side, his thumb subconsciously rubs circles on her arm in an attempt to comfort her, while his teen could only look at him dumbfounded. Frozen still in place for Katsuki was never like this at home, his anger never directed towards him especially.

"Dad I-"

"Apologize. Now."

Katsuki said coldly. He wasn't the one for any dumb excuses and his son's malicious tone towards his wife wasn't something he was just gonna tolerate.

"Katsu, it's okay"

He could hear his wife mumble softly, her warm hand pressed his chest, coaxing him gently to let go of the matter. He was only a teenager after all, isn't this what they do, his wife believed. Katsuki however, didn't believe the same. Had the remark been directed towards Katsuki he would have let go of it, getting back to him a crude comment of himself, but this was his sweet little wife. He couldn't even remember one instance of her raising her voice to discipline their son, she's always been kind and gentle in her parenting methods, offering only the utmost support. So no, it wasn't okay in eyes Katsuki's eyes.

"I'm sorry mom... I shouldn't have done that. I didn't- ..mean to"

His son replies, his head hung shamefully as he takes a moment to reflect what he had just done. Katsuki had raised him to be gentleman through and through. Every step of the way, reminding him how his mother deserved only the best in the world. So for him to snap at his mom was out of character for him, but he would say the stress of school and preparing for UA was getting to him, resulting in him snapping at the only person his heart trusted not to hate him for it.

"Try that once more and we'll have long talk about it. And I can promise you the next time we train you won't have it easy"

Katsuki threatens lightly, knowing he had the little smack to his chest coming as his wife chuckled shyly as his protective instinct. Maybe he meant it, but his wife didn't have to know that he wasn't kidding. Of course he would never hurt his own son, but of course he could tire him out until his body had no energy to snap at his own mother of all people.

His wife's chuckle however was enough to lighten the air around them. The little bakugou earning a little tug on his ear to make sure he understood his lesson. All the while he smiled sheepishly, moving to sit on the floor in front of his mother, burying his head in her lap as a silent apology, seeking her reassurance.

Katsuki could have been the strongest damn hero to exist, but again, he was only a family man after all and the sight was enough to soften his iron heart. His wife tucked under his arm, rubbing the head of his now teen boy.

"brat"

Katsuki mumbles softly, tucking his wife's under his chin as he starts his earful lecture for his son about his wife being 'the most damn amazing woman on earth' and how he needs to do better he's gonna be a true bakugou, because in this family, we love our only woman.

That night, Katsuki slept with his head tucked in his wife's neck, whispering sorry's for not being a good father enough for this to happen in the first place. His worries however were soothed with an array of kisses on any skin his wife could reach, all pressed with a "you're the best father our baby could have had".

p.s. thank you soooooo much for the ask! I had so much fun writing this. I hope you like it <33

[666kuna]

Dilf! Sukuna

Dilf! Sukuna who kept a secret from his kid that he got a date with the kid’s teacher. Yuuji only found out about it when he was at a sleepover; when Megumi's dad, Toji asked him if he was excited to get Miss (y/n) as his new mommy.

"NO WAY? WHY DIDN'T DAD TELL ME?!"

"Kid, I thought you knew."

"NO I DIDN’T, ON SKIBBIDY I DIDN’T DO MEGUMI AND TSUMIKI KNOW TOO?!"

Yuuji immediately ran upstairs to interrogate the both of them after that.

Toji chuckled as he took out his phone to dial Sukuna's number. Sukuna on the other line could be heard chopping some things up.

"Hey, it's me, Toji. Just letting you know that your driver came by like 10 minutes ago with Yuuji."

"Yeah, I know. The notification popped up a while ago, I forgot to say but thanks for doing me this favour, Toji.”

"No problem, anything to help a desperate old man in love out." Toji teased the other before he burst into laughter.

Sukuna, on the other line, erupted into a flustered mess when he heard the most infuriating statement given by Toji knowing that he was more than right about what he just said. Sukuna IS OLD, Sukuna IS IN LOVE but he was just caught off guard by Toji's statement.

"YOU BASTARD!"

"Okay, I was joking, also just to let you know. I told Yuuji about your silly little date, old man and he seems okay with you dating his teacher. Just a little surprised that you didn't tell him."

"Well… I could tell that he was tired of me asking about her all the time."

"You're a freak, old man, has anyone ever told you that?"

"That's what your wife said too." Sukuna retorted before immediately hanging up, knowing that he was treading on a thin line for that response.

It was only after he hung up that a collection of thoughts seemed to surface on his mind. Sukuna has never been with another woman since the random woman he fooled around with that caused him to end up with Yuuji. He decided that he was going to leave his bad and reckless lifestyle to properly better himself just for his kid.

By the time he got Yuuji, he had already built up more than enough wealth to ensure that Yuuji would be able to live a more than comfortable life. Sukuna in his prime was a very controversial womanising celebrity chef, whose life was only surrounded with endless scandals and controversies. Although he has left it all behind, the guilt and regret ate him up on some nights. No woman would want to be with a man that had such a notorious history of cheating,’Rightfully so.’ he thought to himself. What if you found out something about him after the date? Silence rang through the whole house without Yuuji. With all the helpers already gone back into their rooms and only the sound of boiling and trickling water accompanying him, he realized that he didn’t want Yuuji to live a lonely life like him.

Art credits to @/woshihedawei on X

[navybrat817]

Indulgence

Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him. Word Count: Over 5.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.

“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”

“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”

“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”

“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”

“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”

You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.

“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.

You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.

You were more than happy to help.

“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.

You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.

But it wasn't that cut and dry.

“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.

You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.

He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.

That was where you came into the picture.

If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.

“You wanna be my angel?”

You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.

While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.

Unlike your last boyfriend.

As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.

Was it a recipe for disaster?

The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.

His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.

You had it bad.

“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”

Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.

Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.

“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.

He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”

You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.

“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.

“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.

“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.

Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.

He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.

It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.

“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.

He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.

He wouldn't budge on that rule.

“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.

His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.

Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.

You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.

Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.

“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”

His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Three months since we started this,” he answered.

You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.

A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”

Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?

“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”

You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.

And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.

He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”

He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.

“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”

Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.

You trusted him and he made you feel safe.

“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.

A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.

“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.

So were you.

It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.

You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.

He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.

Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.

“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”

A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”

“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”

He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.

“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.

“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.

“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”

“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.

He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.

“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”

“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”

Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.

“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”

You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.

“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”

“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.

And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.

Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.

“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”

Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.

“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”

You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”

In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.

He took you to heaven when he was inside you.

“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.

“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”

“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”

Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.

Flaws and all.

“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”

Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.

“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”

It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.

“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.

“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”

“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”

“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”

“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.

“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”

Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?

Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”

He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”

The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.

“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.

Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”

Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.

“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.

A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.

It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.

Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.

You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.

At least, that was what he told you.

You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?

Had you taken care of him?

Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.

“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.

“You okay?”

“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.

For now.

He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”

“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”

His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”

You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.

You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?

Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.

“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.

He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”

Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.

You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.

“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”

Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.

“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”

He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”

There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.

One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.

You wondered if Bucky told her about you.

“What’s there to like?” He asked.

You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”

“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.

Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.

Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.

“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.

It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.

And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.

Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?

“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”

“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”

You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.

That day changed your life.

“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”

“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”

There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.

In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.

Permanently.

I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

At the start of your friendship, Logan noticed how you prefer bigger, bagger clothes. It started with you wearing oversized shirts, and then the fall came, and you'd be in way too big sweatshirts. When the winter came and you only ever wore oversized sweaters and your winter coat was 4 sizes too big he took note that if he ever had to buy you clothes to just buy the biggest he could find so he started doing that and every time he did you were over the moon. "This is so comfortable!!!" You'd squeal and give him a hug after trying it on.

When the two of you get together, Logan is quick to realize two things. You love his leather jacket, and he loves you in it. It's not uncommon for you to "steal" it from him, and each time he catches you in it, a small smile graces his face.

As your relationship continued, it strengthened as well. Anyone who knew Logan knew he wasn't the marriage type, but that changed with you. Your 3rd anniversary was coming up, and after a drunken conversation with Wade, Logan finally came to the realization that he wanted you forever. It was hard to hide what he was doing from you, but he managed to sneak away to a jewelry store. As he left the house, he threw on his jacket and checked to make sure he had his wallet and keys, then he was out the door.

It took 2 weeks of sneaking out and going to different jewelers but he finally found the ring, he found your ring. He will never admit it but tears did form when he found it sitting in the glass case, he knew he found the one, once again.

He quickly checked out and put the box in his pocket. He didn't want a fancy little bag or a receipt. He knew you'd find those too quickly, and then that would make you start questioning things. Feeling the weight of the box in his pocket, it felt like a fire was burning against his skin. He wanted the proposal to be perfect, but he also wanted you to have the ring already dammit.

He sneaked back into the house and hung his jacket up. You weren't home yet so he just went to start dinner, completely forgetting about the ring after a while.

The next day, you had errands to run, and Logan had to go help Wade. You got up with Logan, and the two of you got ready together. You got dressed, grabbed your keys and your purse, and put on his leather jacket before leaving the house. When you threw the jacket on, it was noticeable that he had something in his pocket, but you didn't think anything of it, so you just went to the coffee table to put whatever it was on there. You stuck your hand in the pocket and grasped the small velvet box. When you pulled the box out, you gasped before you could stop yourself.

Logan was in the bathroom doing his hair when he heard you gasp. It was soft enough that he knew you weren't in danger, but it was clear you were shocked by something. Curiosity got the best of him, and he ended up wandering into the living room. "Baby? Are you okay in here?" He asked teasingly, but the color left his face when he saw what you had in your hands. "Oh shit."

"Lo?" You asked meekly as you turn to look at him better. Tears were already forming in your eyes, and you hadn't even opened the box yet. He was afraid to see your reaction when he did open the box if this is how you are right now. He took your hands into his and held them gently, "Baby..." He took the box from you and opened it in front of you, "whatya say? Will you marry me?"

It took you five seconds to respond but those were the longest five seconds of his life, it felt like his heart was about to be ripped from him and he couldn't breath as he waited to hear your response. You never did verbally say yes. You squealed and kissed him passionately before thrusting your hand close to his face "gimme" you said excitedly. You were practically bouncing as you watched him put the ring on your hand, and with tears finally falling freely, you looked at it closely before kissing him more softly. "I love it, it fits perfectly." This was the first purchase he ever made you that fit you just the way it was supposed to.

Request are open!!!!

Taglist: @mahi-tamashi @100percentlazybonez @lanassmarty