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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 9 months

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Accidentally Finding Family (Bucky Barnes X Teen!Fem!Reader) *PLATONIC, PARENTAL

Characters: Bucky Barnes X Teen!Fem!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: HYDRA, mention of kidnapping, mention of torture, mention of death of family, mention of amputation

Request: Hi can I request a teen reader where she is kind of like Bucky and is a hydra agent that is from the 40s and the team finds her in a base in cryofreeze and Steve and Bucky help her learn to adjust to the future and maybe Bucky helps her deal with nightmares? Or maybe she also has a metal arm and he helps her become less insecure about it idk. Also she ends up seeing Steve and Bucky as parental figures with cute family bonding? Sorry if that’s all over the place!

“Do you have any goals you have in mind for the next year or so? Next five years?” The question, targeted at Bucky, was being asked by his therapist. A few months ago, Bucky wasn’t sure what he would have answered with. A few months ago, Bucky was still filled with grief of a life lost, a life tainted with torture, his memories torn and ripped to shreds with only little fragments he could make out. But Bucky had done a hell of a lot of healing since rejoining his best friend. With therapy, Steve and Wanda’s help, those shreds of his past were being sewn back together, he’d come to accept that while his past is something he’d never fully recover from, he was still in possession of a young body, ready to try to live the life he actually wanted to live before HYDRA. A life with his new friends, and his one old one. He was ready to look into the future.

He sat back, relaxing into the settee, thinking to himself, before he let his thoughts leave his mouth. “A family.” He started. He looked over at his therapist, who smiled, nodding and notioning him to elaborate. “I loved looking after my little sister before the war. I loved looking out for Steve when he was still a punk… I think it’s always been a part of me to want to look after and care for people. Biological or adopted… the idea of having a child, someone to look after, someone to care for, be there for… to be needed by someone… I’d like that.”

“That’s definitely a doable goal I think. I think you’re finally in a place where you’d be able to be a caregiver. If you want to be sure, there are volunteering positions to help people at events- young children, camps for teenagers, so on, so forth. There’s also courses to give people more skills and knowledge on raising children that I can enrol you in?” She suggested. Bucky agreed. Not long after all of that, the session ended, and Bucky began his walk back to base to see if anyone had heard from the rest of the team yet. Almost all of the Avengers- except Bruce- had gone out on a mission. Originally he had been meant to go himself, but when the team found out that he had a session booked the same day and he might not make it, they removed him from it, knowing that his healing is far more important than another gun on their already overpowered team.

About halfway through the walk, was when his phone in his pocket buzzed repeatedly. He felt it easily, and he pulled the phone out, seeing Steve’s name on the front, and he answered it, pressing the phone to his ear. “Hey Steve, I’m on my way back now, are you already back?” He asked Steve, continuing his walk.

“Bucky I need to ask you a serious question and I need you to answer me to the best of your ability.” Steve’s serious tone made Bucky freeze on the side of the street. His eyes darted around the busy streets, finding a corner that was silent and hidden in shadows, and dashing over to it, before answering Steve.

“Alright. Ask away.” Bucky answered.

“Do you know of any other Winter Soldiers?” Steve asked, and immediately Bucky’s heart thudded.

“N-No. Wait, did you find more?” Bucky asked.

“We don’t know… she’s a kid, Buck.” Steve answered. Bucky wanted to be sick, his mind already racing on what exactly they had found. A girl, a young girl, a child, according to Steve. And from whatever information and evidence they had found, it was enough to point them back to the Winter Soldier program and him. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut.

“Is she alive?”

“Yeah. Yeah she’s alive, we’re trying to treat her for a few injuries, but we’re having issues… James I think… she’d really benefit with you being here.” He told his best friend. That seemed odd to Bucky. He was a mythical monster to the other weapons of HYDRA, used to scare them into obeying, and he had no doubt that stories of him, even after he had escaped, would have been used to bring fear, especially to children. Still, he trusted Steve and his judgement.

“Alright. I’ll be there soon.” Bucky answered shortly, hanging up, and his once leisurely stroll back to base, turned into a long sprint marathon.

He arrived back in less than 20 minutes, finding Natasha already waiting for him, her motioning for him to follow her. “How did you find her?” He asked her.

“They realised we were attacking them and raised the alarm, and seemingly let her loose with some of their other agents to try and slow us down. That didn’t happen though.” Natasha explained, power walking through the base.

“What do you mean it didn’t happen?” Bucky asked.

“She turned on them. She killed several of the guards and scientists herself and we found her in the process of trying to kill the head researcher. He’s getting medical care- it’s 50/50 whether he’ll live or not, not that I really care. After we stopped her, she surrendered to us, but she’s not talking and won’t let anyone touch her. We really don’t want to restrain her Buck, since that will undoubtedly make her worse, but I realised she was bleeding from her leg and we think she’s been shot but we can’t treat her.” Natasha explained, stopping at a door, and finally turning to him.

“How can I help with this? If anything, she’s going to have heard about me and become terrified.” He questioned, her features softening into a sad smile.

“Can you take your jacket off and your glove? So she can see it?” She asked. Bucky’s eyes darted down to his arm, flexing his robotic fingers, before looking up at Natasha, unsure and confused. “We’ll introduce you, just… be as soft and kind as possible with her, okay? Trust me.” She asked. Bucky sighed, and with some hesitance, he removed his glove, shoving it into his jacket pocket, before pulling his jacket off, leaving him with just his short sleeve shirt, his arm on full display. Bucky nodded to her, and she opened the door, stepping in and aside to let him in.

“Come on kiddo, I promise it’ll be over before you know it.” Bucky walked into the scene of Tony trying to talk to you, offering a small bag of fruity snacks, though you kept your head down and totally ignored his presence beside you. Bruce was on the other side of you, looking lost on what he can do without making anything worse. Steve was leant against the nearby wall, spotting Bucky and Nat first, and he stood up straight. Bucky glanced at him, before properly looking at you, and when he did, he understood.

You were sitting on the medical bed, legs stretched out, your head low, and your arms hugged against your body. Your arms were what Bucky hyper fixated on. They were metal, both of them, all the way up to the shoulders. You had tucked your arms to the best of your ability under the thin blanket that already had a growing blood stain where one of your legs were. Bucky wasn’t sure what had happened to you that meant you had to have both your arms amputated and replaced by robotic ones, or even if there was a reason or if they just did that, but that didn’t matter right now. You were clearly uncomfortable with them being seeing, and your hatred for being touched was something that Bucky empathised with.

“Thanks for coming so quickly.” Steve spoke up, making Tony and Bruce turn as well, and after a moment, Bucky watched as your eyes also looked up to see who was there, and met his. He was convinced he’d see you flinch, be terrified, and he would make this whole situation worse, but then your eyes left his, and fell onto his arm, and he watched you relax. You actually relaxed in his presence. That immediately made Bucky relax as well as he slowly stepped closer. Tony moved out of his way so he could be by your side.

“English?” Bucky clarified and you nodded at him. “Alright. I’m James, but my friends call me Bucky. I know better than anyone how scary this all is, and how you probably really don’t want anyone prodding or poking at you anymore.” He spoke softly, keeping eye contact with you. He caught in the corner of his eye that you raised one arm from under the sheets, hesitantly reaching for him, specifically his metal arm. He reached out as well, carefully taking your metal arm in his, and your eyes stared at his arm, as the metal sheets slid and moved to adjust, similar to your own, before you looked back at him.

“They hurt you too?” You asked quietly. Bucky swallowed hard, knowing who ‘they’ were, and he nodded.

“Lost it originally from falling out of a train, but they kidnapped me and did this… my friends have helped me adjust, and they want to help you too.” He explained to you.

“They…” You hesitated, looking down at your hand holding his, before continuing. “They took mine. I don’t know why. They just did.” You explained to him, and Bucky nodded along, listening to you while also clenching his jaw, trying not to cry. Trying not to squeeze your hand on accident because of his anger.

“They were wrong for doing that, they were pure evil, and I promise you, you’re safe now, and they can’t hurt you anymore, I promise.” He smiled reassuringly. “As soon as we tend to that bullet wound, we’ll get you settled in, you can start school, be a normal teenager, or as normal as you can be, how does that sound?” He asked, and after a lot of hesitation, you nodded, and with Bucky holding your hand, you allowed Bruce to tend to your wound.

You didn’t talk to anyone for the first week, other than Bucky, but slowly started talking to the others as time passed. They got you situated in one of the bedrooms on base, but after FRIDAY reported you kept hiding under the bed or locking yourself on purpose in the bathroom and sleeping on the cold tile floor, Bucky made the suggestion to move you into a smaller space. He didn’t have to go into detail when explaining you weren’t used to sleeping on a nice warm bed in a giant room, and how it probably felt alien and wrong to sleep there. Tony didn’t have any rooms that were smaller that could function as a bedroom, and it was Steve who suggested you move into an apartment with one of them, that someone clearly being Bucky. Bucky, like showing up to see you in the first place, wasn’t sure about that idea- worried he’d have a relapse with his nightmares and scare you, but he trusted Steve. Tony paid for an upgraded apartment- a two bedroom in brooklyn, still a small walk away from Steve if he was needed, and Bucky moved all his stuff in before they moved you in.

“This is the place.” Bucky told you, opening the door to the apartment, and you cautiously stepped inside, looking around. Bucky didn’t have a lot of things, so other than a bookshelf crammed with books, an old radio, the bulky television and some photos before the war on one wall and another wall of photos from after escaping HYDRA. James wasn’t sure how you’d react to all this, so he watched you diligently. He walked around, leaning on a wall, just watching you. He saw your eyes look around, before you spotted his old radio- one that was close replica to the ones before the war- and you seemed to relax, before walking over to it, gingerly touching it, before turning it on, tuning it a little, seemingly disappointed at the radio station, before looking around, and spotting the pre-war photographs, and walked over, looking at them, and smiling. “You like them?” Bucky asked, walking over slowly.

“They remind me of before the war.” You commented, before seeming to think and turning to him quickly. “Are you from before the war too?” You asked him. Bucky’s eyebrows pinched together.

“Are you? Y/N, what year did they take you?” He demanded.

“1940… 1945? I think? The war was still on…” You explained to him, looking back at the photos, spotting him in his uniform. “You were a sergeant?”

“Y/N.” Bucky stepped closely, gently grabbing your arm and turning you to face him. “You were kidnapped by HYDRA before the war? You were frozen?” He asked. You nodded. Bucky hated that. He hated that there was yet another thing you shared with him. Metal arms, HYDRA, lives before the war, being weapons, and thrust into a new world. He’d long accepted that it’s just his life now, but that it happened to you? A kid? He hated it. “Y/N… What do you remember about your life before the war?” He asked.

You talked for hours. Sitting down on the couch, you just talked about all you remembered, bits and pieces, sometimes certain memories popping up from talking and you’d interrupt yourself just to talk about them. You told him about your parents, your dad being in the army, your mom working in a factory where they made ammunition and ballistics, where unfortunately an accident happened with fire and an explosion, and your mother was killed, leaving you alone for a period of time with your dad other seas and unable to return, and no other family to care for you, before you were sent to go live with a foster family until after the war. That family were actually HYDRA. You didn’t know what happened to your dad, if he survived the war, and if he did, if he looked for you or if he was told you had died and he moved on, maybe had a new family. Maybe you had a step mother, half siblings, maybe you were an aunt now… but you didn’t know. Bucky took the time to text your dad’s name and rank in the war to Natasha and ask her to look into him, and she responded an hour later with an obituary, and a date of death and cause. Killed in action. Bucky told you the news softly, and it was then you stopped talking. You sat there for a period of time, just processing what he had said, and Bucky remained sat there, waiting for you.

“...I’m alone, aren’t I?” You finally spoke up. “I’ve lost everything.”

“Not necessarily.” Bucky pointed out. “If your dad was in the military, then there’s probably photographs of him. If any photos were taken of you and your family before the war, I know for a fact that Natasha and Tony can find them, and we can get them printed and framed for you, so you can have something of theirs… and you have me.” He told you. You turned to look at him.

“Really?”

“Of course. As long as you need me, I’m there. I’ve been through exactly the same thing as you, I know exactly how you’re feeling and I want you to be happy and to have as close to a normal life as possible. Since you live with me, that makes me your guardian. If you want to go to school, I’ll go to all your parent-teacher meetings and help with your homework. If you want to do after school activities, I’ll go to all your games and shows and awards. If you want to talk about the 1930’s and 40’s, let’s talk about it, if you want to talk about what happened with HYDRA, let’s talk about it or we can try therapy if you want. Whatever you want to do with your life, I’ll support you no matter what. I’m here for you, no matter what, and I’m not going anywhere.” He told you. You didn’t respond at first, and when you did, you didn’t respond with words. Instead, you crawled across the couch to be closer to him, wrapping your arms around him, and resting your head on his shoulder, and Bucky hugged you back.

“I’d like that. Thank you.” He heard you speak. He held you as the sun went down, and only after realizing you had fallen asleep and he was gonna have to carry you to bed, that he realized something. He’d done it. He’d reached his goal that he had set with his therapist just over a month ago. It was totally unconventional, nothing he could have predicted, but he’d gotten his family. He’d found the child he wanted, the person he wanted to care and be there for, to watch grow and thrive and to help them with that. He’d found you.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS: @dailyteambucky @mxrvelsaos @klanceiscannon14 @marvelhoeingismyhobby-blog @bellamyblakemorley @dummiesshort @freyathehuntress @abbybills22-blog @mutantjediavenger @theoraekensnotsosecretlover @alicedanganh @sleutherclaw @sleepy-coffee-bean @stawwpp @courtneychicken @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe

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romanestuffsposts · 5 days

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Oksy so it's a very random start rn but last week I was with a friend and she gave me a speacial cookie but didnt told me what in it was so i ate it and started to feel fuzzy and later I was vomiting and had a head ache and stuff and than she told me that it was a space cookie with weed in it. I was so scared when I start to notice that I dont feel good but she just made fun of me. Now i cut the contact and need comfort (when I noticed that I was not feeling good I was walking home and when I was home I was still so scared and crying that I cried in my dads arms crying myself to sleep)

Daddy stucky x little reader where she was in the same Situation and they found her crying, scared and throwing up with much comfort ❤️❤️

Hi there love! 💜

First of all I’m so so sorry that it happened to you. You are the only one who can make the decision for yourself, if you want to take a space cookie then it has to come from you and no one else ! It’s just respect. It made me so mad when I read what you send me, not mad at you but mad at your friend (who is really not a good friend btw). I can totally understand how you felt afterward and how betrayed you must have felt.

I once took a space cookie at a party at my cousin’s house and I saw everyone laughing and running everywhere while I was on my chair, completely lost. I moved my eyes from left to right and I had the feeling that the world was spinning. It wasn’t really fun because I didn’t enjoy my night because of that (two hours after I ate it I was in bed imao). But it was my choice, I was with people I trust and I wanted to take it. That’s the difference. I felt sick too (probably because it’s was the fist time I ate weed- I already smoke it but not eating it) but it was my decision.

Those kind of experience can’t come from anyone else but you. That’s just how it is and nothing else is acceptable.

I hope you recover from that horrible experience sweetie, you’re so strong and I’m so happy for you that you had your dad to comfort you. Be careful my love <3

I hope you like how I wrote this fic, lots of love babe ❤️

****

warnings : mention of drugs, taking drugs against your will, feeling dizzy and sick, comfort, reassurance, trust issues, pet names, paci

Pairings : Daddies!Stucky ; daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Reader

Summary : you didn’t chose your friends correctly

****

You always had a hard time making friends. Not because you’re a bad person or because you’re mean to everyone that look at you but because you’re discreet, you’re shy and you’re scared to go to people.

But once you make a friend, you’re ready to do everything for that person. You’re that kind of friend, the one who gave the half of your meal if your friend doesn’t have anything to eat. Your the kind of friend that will sleep on the floor so the other sleep in your bed. You’re the kind of friend that pardon everyone because for you, everyone can have a second chance. Mistakes happen

Mistakes..

You wouldn’t call it a mistake this time tho.

You were enjoying a sleepover at your friend’s house, everything went good, you were having fun and you even made new friends that were also invited. One of them came with a plate of cookies and you can’t lie and say you hadn’t thought of them all evening.

Apparently they knew each others for years and at first that scared you but once you met them your nerves actually relax a bit. They’re used to do things together and lived plenty life experience together while you did it alone but that’s fine, you’re here now, you’re with them so everything is good.

Around 11pm, the one that came with the cookies open the box and give one to everyone. Everyone seemed excited and you didn’t question it because you were too, not for the same reasons tho.

You ate that cookie so fast that your stomach isn’t really happen. You went to grab another one when your friend stop you ‘’wait just a few minutes before taking another, trust me’’ she winks

Trust me

You shrug it off and went back to playing, you were enjoying the night when all of a sudden, everyone start to be a little bit weird, too weird to your liking.

The more you try to understand why one of the guy is laughing hard just because he has a fly on his drink, or why your friend has a hard time opening her red eyes that you start to feel weird too.

You stand up thinking you needed water but soon realised that mistake. Once your butt leave the seat, it feels like the world start spinning around you. You look around you, scared and lost, everyone were enjoying their time while you just wanted to crawl in bed and recover.

You tried to go to your friend but when she wasn’t ghosting you she was just telling you that it was fine that you didn’t needed to worry about anything and just enjoying the feeling.

You didn’t felt listen or understood at all and that alone make you feel even more sick. With all the strength you can get, you pick up your bag and leave the house.

You live a few blocks away from your friend- ex friend, so you decide to walk home, not really knowing what to do else. You don’t know if your Daddies are home or if they took advantage of the fact that you were away to do something together.

While walking home you start crying, you felt betrayed, you may not be the most thoughtful girl but you’re definitely not stupid, you know there was something in the cookie, you just didn’t realised it on time.

You’re relieved to see your door’s house and has a warm feeling in your chest once you close it behind you. As the click of the door closing is heard, your back fall onto it and you slide down the door, until your touching the ground.

You soon hear footsteps coming toward where you are ‘’baby ?’’ Your Papa walk toward you and kneels down ‘’what are you doing here ?’’

‘’is everything okay, baby girl ?’’ Your Daddy asks as well. You shake your head, tears sliding down your face.

Your Papa rests his hand against your cheek ‘’take deep breath, love. You’re at home, with us, nothing can harm you here’’

You take shaky breathes and squeeze your hands ‘’baby tell us what’s wrong’’

‘’I- I didn wanted to. I just wanted cookie, I promise I didn k-know’’ you cry harder.

‘’Hey hey shhh, it’s okay little one, keep taking deep breathes we won’t get mad at you’’ your Daddy reassures you.

‘’I feel bad’’ you cry and wipe your eye with the back of your hand

‘’How do you feel bad ?’’ Your Papa asks, taking your hand away from your eye. He hates when you do that because you’re always too harsh with yourself and he doesn’t want you to get hurt ‘’explain to us’’

You sob ‘’I don know i-‘’ you breath out ‘’everything is spinning and- and i tired’’ you whine.

Your Daddies look at each other, it doesn’t take them a long time to connect about what had happened. You talked about cookies and then feeling bad and finally everything is spinning. They immediately understood.

Your Daddy stand up and lifts you up in his arms, you immediately roll yourself around him. He waits until your Papa finishes removing your shoes and sockets before going to the couch. He sits down and rests you on his laps ‘’it’s okay my love, you went through something you shouldn’t have to without your consent but you’ll be fine’’

‘’nothing will happen to you, you’ll feel bad for a few more hours but that’s all’’ he kisses your forehead ‘’papa will be back soon with a glass of water, it’ll make you feel better’’

‘’Close your eyes babydoll, the world will not spinning as much as it does when your eyes are open’’ he quietly says, his fingers sliding down your hair to calm you down

‘’Here princess’’ your Papa sits on the couch and help you drinking the water. The fresh liquid that slide down your throat help at making you feel more relax and calm, just like your Daddy said it would.

He takes your feet on his laps and gently rubs them while speaking softly to you. Your eyes are still close but your other senses are multiplying, the touches of your Daddies help at calming your nerve and the reassurance behind the truth your Daddy said earlier about you closing your eyes and the water thing is really good at relaxing you.

‘’How about you sleep with us tonight ?’’

They know you’re not in a big danger but it reassure them too if you were with them for the night.

You nod your head and before you can put your finger in your mouth, your Daddy slides your paci in it.

‘’We won’t let her hang out with these people, right ?’’ Your Daddy asks as his eyes wonder around your sleepy face.

‘’As if she would want to hang out with them again’’ your Papa scoffs as his hands still rubs your cold feet

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verstppism · 29 days

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Boy's Talk (About You) - Chapter 8

Chapter 8 - take me anywhere but home

word count: 1957

masterpost.

synopsis everyone has their secrets, a group chat formed by charles leclerc, pierre gasly, alex albon, lando norris and george russell knows all of them. the 'kill the grid' chat has only one purpose: gossiping about other drivers' lives, romantic and social

or, a casual chat leads to charles confessing a crush on max, who's has been his rival since childhood

If Charles was still half asleep, the iMessage notifications coming from Max definitely woke him up. All the nervousness and anxiety from last night made sense: Max was leaving Brazil and his girlfriend to spend New Years in Monaco. But what were his intentions behind such a sudden decision? If Max really broke up with her, then he wouldn’t be texting the older one on a cold December morning. Or would he? Max Verstappen was a confusing person. One night, he says he’s not happy with his girlfriend, the other he goes on a private padel match with his ex-rival. Things seem to go well between them.

It’s when he posts a photo with his girlfriend after the race that tears everything apart. Still in his racing suit. Messy hair. Still sweating. Everything that belonged to Charles and to him only. In fact, Max was his. Who does she think she is? Charles only thought about how he could talk so casually about Kelly right before calling him “Charlie” and pushing him as far away from Lance as possible in the sprint podium. It was driving him insane — More than he already is. After eternal minutes discussing his own love life and its frustrations, Charles notices he left Max on read, he had accidentally opened the app and his conversation with the other one.

“charlie: good morningg “

“charlie: i am! are u okay? “

Charles was really at a loss at words, so he decided to pretend that he didn’t know where Max was nor that he was a few meters from the blonde’s house.

“maxiee: yeah “

“maxiee: just had a little change of plans and came back to monaco “

“charlie: oh really? “

“charlie: did anything happen or? “

“maxiee: can we talk about this in person? “

“maxiee: we can go to that café you mentioned in the padel match “

He… Remember. Their meeting (date?) was months ago, and he remembers it. Something he slightly mentioned once in a lifetime, and he recalls it in perfect detail. Charles wonders if Max remembers everything that pondered his mind. He asks himself if he recalls their discussions back in their karting days, or when they slowly started to use pet names for the first time. In the end, did Max realize that they were made for each other, even though they were predestined to fight for a whole life?

“charlie: of course! what time? “

“maxiee: im just getting ready, i’ll be there in a couple minutes “

“maxiee: nothing is too far here “

Charles giggles at the last message, like he always did when he exchanged messages with his beloved. After all, it was more of a date orchestrated by Max — he is good at setting up dates so subtly. Or maybe Charles just accepts every invite from the other. — and again, alone together. A more casual reunion this time: without any sport or anyone that could get in their way. It seemed like a dream, Charles hoped it wasn’t.

He didn’t even mind telling his friends of such an important event, just got up from his bed and quickly got ready. Casual clothing and sunglasses to go unnoticed. It wasn’t easy to go on a date in broad daylight in a city as small as Monte Carlo.

—————

It really didn't take long for them to meet. That little cafeteria was one of the secret gems of Monaco, hidden between beautiful historic buildings. As Charles arrived, he already could see Max, stirring coffee and sugar on the delicate little cup. He was looking down, his face with little to no emotion, more like hesitant of… something.

The doorbell ring filled the quiet place when the older entered the place getting the other's attention, which gave a soft and kinda sad smile to him. A smile that wasn't common as the post race ones or those shared in press conferences. ‘This is not the moment to overthink your relationship with him.’ Charles thought.

“I’m not late this time. '' Leclerc broke the awkward silence between them as he sat down. “Yeah… I mean, you live around here, no?” Max sounded somewhat different. Nervous? Sad? Reading his feelings through his face wasn’t Charles’ best ability. “So remember when I told you I would spend New Years in Brazil?”

“Of course! I was also about to ask you about it. Why did you come back home?” He said as he sat down. Home. Not the best wording at the moment, given that he’s actually Dutch and we are somewhere around near South France. It’s what they say: ‘home is where the heart is’. “Like… Did anything happen?”

“Yeah, uh…” Apprehensive. A worried tone filled his voice. “Me and Kelly had a little fight right after Christmas and I thought it would be better for us to part ways. She wasn’t very willing to but… Can I be honest? I was growing tired of being stuck with her.”

Stuck with her. Stuck. Max was tired. Max doesn't like her. At All. Charles felt like his chest was collapsing in the best way possible. How was he supposed to act normally and feel pity for them when butterflies filled his stomach?

“And you know, I only kept the relationship up because of her daughter…” Verstappen smiled while looking at the cup. The older’s intrusive thoughts were telling to adopt a child with that man. He was such a good dad after all! “And PR too. I think our love wasn't reciprocal… I was there for the kid and she was for the status of being a Formula One driver's girlfriend.”

“Oh Max… That's too bad. I’m so sorry for you” A pitiful look surged on Charles’ face, trying to show empathy and not that he was going insane over all of this. “I’m sure you and her will be able to meet again.” A shy smile appeared on the younger’s face when ocean and emerald eyes met. A comfortable silence surrounded them, only the ambient sound and smell of fresh coffee filled the empty café.

“Now that we are on the topic, it may sound rude but I need to get this off my chest. I doubt you two would still be together if you didn't win in 2021.” Still apprehensive, Charles felt safe to talk shit about Max’s ex-girlfriend. When he saw the other’s eyes glitter at the comment, he was sure: the blonde has been waiting forever to do this. “You doubt? I'm 100% sure! After we left RedBull’s party she started talking about marriage, mate. Can you believe that!?”

Minutes that felt like hours passed by. Charles and Max talked about many secrets they've kept for each other for the mere thought of “this is not something you usually tell your best friend, especially when he’s dating a person you don’t really like”. In fact, they would never get to these specific topics – mostly about relationships. Maybe both were scared of oversharing and confessing their true love, ruining it all for once. The older didn't know if delusional thoughts took over, but he felt things were getting intimate, at some point, their feet touched and so their legs proceeded to slightly intertwine.

They didn’t even bother to order food or anything. — and so the waiters did not ask them to. Perhaps it was an obvious date to whoever passed by. When leaving, Max only paid for this coffee cup that was now cold, half drunken and long forgotten on the table. Both got so deep in conversation they forgot the world keeps spinning, and the day goes by, like they always do. Like it always happens. If you didn’t know, you would guess that they were long-distance boyfriends meeting for the first time.

It was almost dusk when they left the café. The orange-ish colors in the sky implied the sun was setting, and so Max and Charles decided to walk home. Staying side by side on a very narrow sidewalk made their shoulders brush at all times.

As they got closer to Leclerc’s house, he noticed that Max started to tense up. Was he scared of something? Scared of leaving Charles? That reaction started to worry him but as soon as they got to the older’s doorstep he spoke up, point blank:

“I… Charlie, the true meaning behind this all-of-a-sudden meeting is that… You are the love of my life. I’m sorry for not noticing it earlier.” Max stuttered, a subtle way to let the other know it was hidden and buried deep inside with fear for years and years. Maybe even his whole life. It drove Charles insane. It’s like he was feeling every single emotion at the same time. He swore he was dying or something. The older man fought every desire to kiss him right here in the middle of an empty sideroad right in front of his house, but he knew it would appear in every headline in worldwide newspapers. “Charles ‘il predestinato’ Leclerc is found kissing Life-long rival Max Verstappen”. That is not the best way to be in the news, probably something that would end their careers or worse: their friendship. With no words left to say, Charles just hugged him tight as if he would disappear at any time. “Je t'aime moi aussi, mon amour” He said as one or two teardrops slid across his cheek.

Feeling something wet hit his shoulder, Max broke the hug but still kept their bodies suspiciously close. He held the other’s face with both big hands as their eyes met once again, but now with much more compassion. After all they’ve gone through, all their ups and downs brought them to this moment. What they’ve been waiting for.

“Wait wait wait.” Charles popped the little bubble they builded to protect themselves from the rest of the world. “Can we get inside first? I mean, it’s very romantic to kiss in the middle of the crosswalk I know but we’re kinda famous so yeah…” Max chuckled at the comment. “Of course we can, schatje”

He unlocked the door and let Verstappen enter as if nothing almost happened a few seconds ago. “Uh… So are-” He’s interrupted by the softest of lips crashing into his own, almost cornering him into a wall like a (ironically) raging bull. For the very first seconds they are both surprised by the feeling but locked in very quickly. This kiss felt like heaven, the way both mouths swayed together felt like they were pieces to a puzzle, just waiting for it to be finally found and placed together. It was definitely not what Charles thought it would be like but it was good nonetheless.

They only broke the kiss when there was no oxygen left in their bodies still, they stayed close, panting and hanging on by a thread of spit. Leclerc hid his face on his lover’s shoulder and started giggling, ending up with a lowkey confused Max.

“Why are you laughing?” He said, with a broad smile on his face. Charles’ laugh was contagious.

“This is so stupid. Why did we take so long to do this?”

It all came down to them snuggling together in Charles’ bed. The moonlight that invaded the room through a slightly opened window shines in their features, giving both an godly look. After a whole day spent with Max, Leclerc seemed to forget about his friends, who might’ve gone insane by his disappearance. So he was right: when checking his phone he’s welcomed with 86 missed calls, – all coming from 4 different people – and at least 300 messages coming from his group chat, Kill the Grid. Charles opens it, doesn’t read any of the past messages and starts typing.

“charlie: guys, youll never know what just happened '' Send it.

taglist: @mrsbrxkkxr , @nyxstice , @thedecalcomania-blog ,@sebastianize <3

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poopwons · 4 months

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~~Had a Bad Day~~ Ft. Jean Kirstein

Synopsis: your boyfriend doesn't take credit for any of the sweet things he does for you when you have a bad day at work.

Content: fluff, comfort, Jeanie is a dreamboat

a/n: just a lil comfort. no slander to anyone named Jessica, I just needed a name and picked one. wrote this for the lovely @jeanboyjean I hope it's everything you wanted💜💜💜💜

Today started out great. You woke up early, got ready, and left for work. When you stopped for coffee, the barista offered you a second drink, saying they made one wrong, which you gladly accepted. However, the mood was rapidly killed when you walked into work.You get a little chat on your screen from Teams, your boss calling you in for something. Your stomach drops automatically. After receiving an absolute reaming for something that wasn’t your fault, you go back to your desk completely deflated. Of course the newbie on your team screwed something up. Fucking Jessica. She didn’t pay enough attention to anything she did, regardless of how many times you’ve tried to correct that behavior and you just got in trouble for it since, technically, “you’re in charge of her since she’s on your team.”

The day goes from bad to worse. When you go out for lunch, they didn’t have the ONE thing you’d been craving all day, someone almost rear ended you on your way back to the office, and when you finally do get back there’s a mountain of work waiting for you. You pull out your phone, smiling at the text that was already there.

9:38AM

Hope my beautiful baby has the best day today. Miss you already❤️

God, this man. You swear he always knows what to do even when he has no idea what’s going on. You smile to yourself, the day already looking a little bit brighter.

1:02PM

My day’s actually not going too great, got yelled at first thing, then lunch was disappointing, oh and guess who didn’t do her work properly AGAIN? But your morning text helped. I miss you too ):

You put your phone away to avoid getting scolded and start working on your pile of work. Thankfully the rest of the day goes by pretty fast, thanks to your complete inability to even look up from your computer screen. You think about calling Jean on your way home, but it’s only a twenty minute drive, and you’ll see him soon enough, so you don’t bother.

Walking through the door in a huff you put your things down and toe off your shoes, ready to shower and wash this awful day away and spend time with Jean. you walk into the kitchen and a smile curls on your lips. Sitting on the counter was a beautiful vase of flowers, that certainly hadn’t been there when you left this morning. Jean comes around the corner wrapping you in a big hug, lifting you up off the ground and squeezing.

“Hi, Pretty,” He says with a grin as he sets you down, tilting your chin towards his to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. He doesn’t even let you get a word in before he’s gently steering you towards the bathroom. “Now, you shower, relax, I put out your comfy clothes for you when you’re done. Let me worry about dinner, ‘kay?” He presses another kiss to your head.

“You’re the best,” you smile at him, “Thank you for my flowers, by the way, they’re lovely.”

“I didn’t buy those for you.” He lies with a grin, before leaving you in the bathroom to shower.

You wash off the day, spending a little extra time massaging shampoo into your scalp as the warm water cascades over you, music turned all the way up so you can hear it over the spray. It’s so loud in fact, that you don’t even hear when Jean sneaks back in, leaving a fresh-from-the-dryer towel out for you, before going back out. You turn the water off and get out, pleasantly surprised to wrap a warm towel around you.

After changing, you come back out into the kitchen where there are take out containers from your favorite place, favorite meal in them. Along with a little basket sitting on the counter that was filled with face masks, a new nail polish color, a book you’d mentioned really wanting to read weeks ago, and some chocolates. Jean’s in the living room, turning on your favorite movie before coming up and kissing you again.

“Good shower?”

“Very good. My towel even warmed itself up, isn’t that cool?” You grin at him, as he takes the food over to the sofa, while you follow.

“Well, I did buy the self-heating ones. I might have forgotten to mention that.”

“Did the food order itself too? And that cute little gift basket on the counter must have assembled itself.”

“Yeah, what a wild time to be alive.” He smiles at you again, pressing a little kiss to your forehead before settling down to eat with you.

Sitting in the comfort of your living room, favorite movie on, with a gorgeous boyfriend who’s willing to do such sweet things for you all the time? Maybe your day hasn’t been so bad after all.

#jean x reader #snk jean #jean kirstein #so cute 🥰#aot fanfiction #aot #aot fluff

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sofreddie · 11 months

Text

Afraid to Love

Summary: Afraid of love, afraid of the Mark, afraid of the consequences of their night together, she ran. When Dean shows up in her life again, she has to decide whether to accept the second chance she's been presented with or give in to her instinct to run.

Characters: Dean x F!Reader, Sam, Mary

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut (Unprotected Sex), More Angst, More Smut (Unprotected Sex - these two! - Oral Sex), Even more Angst, Fluff

DEAN: BED SHARING (@spndeanbingo)

WC: 6,403

A/N: This started as a simple, small little thing and just grew into something else entirely. Sometimes fics just take on a life of their own. These two didn't want to be simple. Oh no! These two wanted to be complicated and straight up dumb (wrap it before you tap it y'all, I shouldn't have to tell you this). Ah, the beauty of fiction!

“So, was it Amara?” Sam asked his older brother as he packed up their bags. Now that the case was done, it was time to leave the motel.

“No,” Dean shook his head as he let out a long breath. “I-I thought it would be too. I really did.”

Sam’s brow furrowed as he listened to Dean’s words. The Qareen they were fighting took on the form of one’s deepest desire. Since the Mark had been lifted, Dean had been obsessed with Amara, unable to hurt or resist her. He was certain it would have been her image that his brother saw. Maybe it really was one of the Daisy Dukes?

“Then who-”

“Y/N.”

The name hung heavy in the air between them as the silence stretched out. Dean looked absolutely distraught and Sam’s heart ached for him.

He hadn’t thought about Y/N in a while, and he felt guilty for it. She had left when Dean first got the Mark, worried for how it was already affecting him. She took off in the night, leaving behind a note. The brothers had been unable to find her anywhere.

Sam secretly looked for her face in every passing stranger they saw. He knew Dean was upset and heartbroken when Y/N left, having been close friends with her. Sam didn’t realize just how much Dean had apparently cared for her, the Qareen appearing as her and breaking Dean all over again.

“You ever gonna tell me what happened between you two?” Sam asked as they climbed into the Impala, ready to head home. Dean drove down the road, the silence stretched out for miles.

"You remember the night she left? You hooked up with that redhead from the bar-"

"Wait. Is that why she left? Because I brought a girl back?" Sam began to panic.

"What? No!" Dean scoffed, "Full of yourself much?"

"You just said-"

"If you'd let me finish…"

One hand holding tightly onto the strap on her shoulder, Y/N raised her other hand, took a deep breath, and knocked quickly on the door. She listened as footsteps approached, a pause, then several locks being disengaged.

The door opened and a smirking Dean Winchester leaned against the doorframe. Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Sam found company for the night,” she started. Dean’s brow quirked in interest. “So I was hoping you’d be okay with me sleeping in the car?”

He stood straight, “Why would I let you sleep in the car?”

He opened the door further and gestured her inside. Her eyes looked past him into the room, finding it empty of anyone else, the bed still neatly made.

“I thought you had company,” she uttered.

Dean grinned and relaxed, “You sound jealous.”

She rolled her eyes hard, her head lolling with it, “Yeah, I’ll go find a park bench.”

She turned to leave, Dean stepping forward and grabbing her by the arm, “Don’t be an ass. Get in here.”

Y/N huffed a breath, heading inside the motel room, turning to face Dean as he closed and relocked the door. He looked her up and down, biting his lip and smirking once more. She looked ready to hit him.

“Relax,” he was the one to roll his eyes this time. “We’ve shared a bed before.”

“I know that, it’s not that. I know you went to the bar with Sam. Did you strike out or something?”

“Nah. No one really caught my eye. Wasn’t my night,” he shrugged. “Kinda proud of Sammy though.”

Y/N snorted a laugh, the tension suddenly gone. “You mind if I take a quick shower?”

“Go for it,” he threw back, focusing his attention on cleaning up the small table.

The sound of the bathroom door closing had him turning his gaze toward its surface, staring hard. As if his eyes could see through the door or he could somehow compel her to come back into his line of sight. He took in a deep breath and let it out in a huff.

He rubbed at the Mark on his forearm trying to ease away the burning ache of it. The Mark constantly pulsed and flowed, reminding him of its presence.

Except when Y/N was around.

Just being around her made it grow quieter, the pulsing ebbing away to nothing. She calmed and relaxed him. They were friends and hunting buddies. But since he’d gotten the Mark, she’d grown to mean so much more to him.

It was harder and harder to hide it, the playful flirtations and occasional bed sharing both feeding and teasing him. He refused to give in, to risk ruining one of his most treasured friendships. Especially since she’d never shown interest in him beyond what they already had. The risk was too great.

Dean laid back on the bed, flipping through the channels, not really paying much attention. He was biding time, keeping himself occupied while he waited for Y/N to return. The Mark nagged at him once more and he rubbed it in a vain attempt to soothe the deep ache.

Y/N emerged from the bathroom, the steam billowing out behind her. She was dressed in a t-shirt and sleep shorts - her go-to he realized - her bare thighs drawing his attention. She tossed her towel aside after shaking out her hair, casually crawling on the bed to prop herself next to Dean.

“What’re we watching?”

“Nothing on,” he groaned, leaving the TV on some action movie and tossinng the remote to the bed. She immediately reached for it and he smirked as she laid back and got comfortable, flipping through the channels herself before stopping back on the same action flick from before.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she sighed, setting the remote on the nightstand.

Her eye caught Dean rubbing at the Mark. It made her nervous. She hated that damn Mark and what it was doing to Dean. What he was becoming. It terrified her. She stuck around for Dean, her friend and hunting buddy. Not for reasons that she wouldn’t even admit to herself. Especially not now, not when Dean was suffering and fighting with all he had. The last thing he needed was her throwing feelings at him. He needed her friendship and she valued it.

She glanced up to see Dean already looking at her. Her breath caught in her throat, the tension thick. She wanted so badly to soothe his worry and ache, to love him and show him how love could heal. But she was petrified of showing it, admitting it to anyone. In that moment, she wasn't sure what possessed her, other than a need to soothe him - and maybe herself. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to his.

He was surprised at first, but quickly melted into it, tilting his head and responding eagerly. She hummed, licking across his lips, making him groan as he opened to her questing tongue. His hands slid down her sides to her hips, pulling her into his lap, allowing him to bring her close and deepen the kiss further.

She whined against his lips, her fingers working quickly to shed his shirt. Her hands roamed down his chest and stomach as she rolled her hips needily against his own, her desperation growing with each touch. She quickly removed her own shirt, pressing herself back against him and gasping against his lips at the contact.

Dean wanted to stop, to ask her what had suddenly made her want him the way he'd been wanting her for so long. But he was selfish. He wanted her so bad, the Mark all but forgotten as her attention rained down on him. He knew she could never want him, especially when he was tainted with the Mark. Even though it would break his heart to only be the once, he needed it and would take whatever she would give him. He could have that at least.

Feeling her roll back into him made Dean groan longingly, crashing again with Y/N's lips to keep himself from being too loud. He quickly worked to remove Y/N's clothes, then his own, before hastily tugging her back down to him with a small chuckle.

“Fuck,” he bit his lip, “You are so fucking hot, ya know that?”

“Have you seen you?” she laughed, rubbing her wet folds against his length and loving the sounds he made.

Amidst the awkwardness, the tension and unspoken feelings, they still managed to laugh. To be the friends they had always been, and that gave them both comfort.

She shifted her hips, sinking down on his length until there was no more to take. She let out a sigh at feeling so full and connected to him.

Dean mouthed a curse, eyes rolling back and fluttering closed as her tight walls sunk around him, tightening as they adjusted to him. He breathed out shakily across Y/N's lips as they ghosted each other, his arms slowly moving to grip on the back of her shoulders, pushing her down onto him.

With a small grunt, he thrust his hips up, forcing Y/N to bounce on his lap as he leaned back against the headboard, slowly thrusting with pinpoint precision. She whined and gasped, her arms wrapped tighter around his shoulders as she held him close, her body moving in sync with his.

It wasn’t long before Dean’s pace quickened to borderline brutal. With a long groan, he buried his face into the crook of Y/N's neck, groaning across her skin before sucking a deep red mark.

As each of his thrusts grew desperately in pace, he growled, hungrily devouring Y/N's lips. He released one of her shoulders, his free hand snaking between them to find her clit.

“I’m so close,” Dean breathed across her mouth, right as he started to rub fast, small circles on the sensitive nub, “Cum with me, cum on my fucking cock, Baby.”

She tried to speak, but a guttural moan was ripped from her lips as she came hard, her eyes squeezed shut and clinging to him, leaving small nail indents in his shoulders as she shook with the force of it in his arms.

Dean kept up his pace as he rode her through her high, his eyes locked and watching her completely blissed out. With a sudden and harsh thrust, he groaned out obscenely, pushing Y/N down onto him as he panted with each spurt of hot cum that shot deep into her belly.

She shook with another small orgasm at feeling his cum shoot within her. She whined and panted as she came down, her head dropped to his shoulder. She grimaced slightly as she felt his seed dripping out around his cock and a brief panic flared in her mind.

Dean’s eyes slowly fluttered open as he panted for breath, the same flash of panic suddenly flooding them too for a moment. When her head dropped to his shoulder, his arms tightened around her - a hell of a lot more gently now - he sighed out and enjoyed the feel of her.

"You okay?" he mumbled as she shook lightly in his arms, her breath fanning over his shoulder.

"Yeah," she sighed back, before yawning. "Tired though," she chuckled.

He inhaled a sharp and shaky breath as he withdrew from her core, laying her beside him and planting soft pecks along her collarbone as he hummed in agreement. He knew they needed to talk, but decided that was tomorrow's problem. With a hand draped across her waist, Dean slowly let himself drift to sleep.

"When I woke up, she was gone. Only the note was left," Dean spoke, recalling that last night with Y/N, making the hurt fresh all over again.

D-

I'm so sorry.

Please forgive me.

-Y/N

He'd reread the note again and again, the words forever etched into his brain. Sam didn't know that he still had it, tucked away in his trunk of possessions. Every once in a while, he'd take out the note, straightening the ruffled edges and studying the ink from her jotted words.

Sam remembered her cryptic note, Dean not providing much information until now. Y/N and Dean were practically best friends and Sam was sure they'd end up together eventually. He was glad they did, but couldn't figure out why Y/N would run. If anything, he thought Dean would have been the one to turn from intimacy, but Y/N?

"Maybe she was worried about the Mark," Sam offered hesitantly, swallowing hard as Dean squeezed the steering wheel a little tighter. "She doesn't know it's gone. Maybe we could look for her again?"

"Just let it go, Sam," Dean pleaded. "It's been more than a year. If she wanted to be found, we would have heard from her."

"Yeah, but, Dean-"

"Let's just focus on Amara, okay?"

"Ooh! We should stop for lunch at this little town up ahead!" Mary chimed excitedly from the backseat of the Impala.

"That sounds good," Sam agreed, looking over his shoulder at his mother with a smile before turning his attention to Dean at the wheel.

Dean rolled his eyes and groaned, but when both Mary and Sam pleaded, he gave in. He knew he would anyway. He'd do anything for his family.

After helping Amara and Chuck reconcile - and avoiding yet another apocalyptic event - Amara had granted Dean a gift, returning his mother to their lives. He was over-the-moon, but Mary needed time to adjust. He tried to understand, to give her space, and in the end she decided to stay and hunt with her sons.

Dean parked at the small town diner - the same sort of small establishment they frequented all over the country. Dean followed behind as his mother and brother chatted and laughed, finding a booth. He slid in beside his mother, smirking as he listened to the pair animatedly talk with one another.

Over the din, Dean's ears tickled with a familiar sound - a voice. He focused his ears on the sound, hearing two women speaking. Curious, he slightly turned his head, glancing over his shoulder. A waitress stood at the register, handing over a bag to a female customer. As the customer turned, ready to leave, Dean saw her face and his world came to a screeching halt.

She walked out the door and he could only snap his head around, peering out the large front windows of the diner as the woman entered her car.

"Y/N," he breathed out, unaware of his brother questioning him.

Sam's eyes followed Dean's gaze, the whisper of Y/N's name more than confusing him. But as he turned he saw her, clear as day. As she climbed in the car, she looked up, her eyes meeting Sam's and then Dean's through the windows. Just like Dean, she froze.

Sam scooted off the seat, ready to go out and talk to her, but as soon as he rose, she was pulling her car out of the parking spot and away from the diner, the tires squealing slightly in her haste. Immediately, Sam pulled out his phone, using their connected apps and information to look up the license plates.

Looking across the table, he could see that his brother was hurting and his mother was more than curious. Sam, however, was determined.

Y/N took off a little faster than she should have, the tires screeching as she made the turn out of the parking lot. That was Sam and Dean Winchester, she was certain of it! Two years and not a peep, then all of a sudden they're in her town? She panicked, her only thought was that she had to get away. She couldn't face Dean - not then, and not now.

As she raced towards home, she couldn't help but think back on that last night with Dean. He had been exhausted and in turmoil since getting that damn Mark on his arm. She was worried for him in ways that made her insides twist into knots. They were friends, yes, but she had made the biggest mistake - she had fallen in love with him.

She knew better, but it was out of her control, falling for him was as easy as breathing. She also knew Dean would have every reason to reject her, and she didn't want to risk being rejected. So she kept quiet. But seeing him that night, something sparked within her. She wanted to give him comfort, peace, love, if only for a moment.

After, she lie awake with Dean's arm draped over her waist, the sweat still cooling on her skin, her pulse returning to normal. Then the panic set in.

What if it was a one-time thing? She couldn't hide how she felt for him after that. She couldn't bear to see him walk away either. On top of all of that, he had the Mark and it was changing him. She was slowly growing terrified of it, and of him.

So she made the decision to leave in the middle of the night, carefully sneaking out of bed as Dean snored, sleeping more peacefully than she'd ever seen him. She quickly and quietly dressed, gathering her bag and sneaking out of the room.

As she pulled into her garage, she shut off the car, watching as the garage door closed behind her. It wouldn't take Sam more than an hour to find her, track her plates, drive around looking for her car. She could run again, she supposed. Her eyes flicked to the backseat and she sighed.

No more running.

Dean pulled up to the curb, throwing the car in park and eyeing up the house before him.

"Do you want me to go with you?" Sam asked.

"No," Dean sighed, leaving the car running but clibming out, shutting the door behind him. He stood on the sidewalk, hesitant to move forward.

What if she rejected him? She ran away for a reason. Maybe she wouldn't want to see him. He swallowed hard and forced his feet to move. He had to know why she left. Why they had such a beautiful moment together and she reipped it away. He thought their friendship would have been strong enough to survive anything.

"Dean, you don't have to do this. I can go talk to her if you want," Sam offered. He knew one of them had to talk to her, to find out why she took off, to make sure she was alright.

"Nah, I got this," Dean gave his brother a small smirk and a pat on the arm before making his way to the door.

Sam nodded, letting Dean walk up the path to the house. He climbed back in the car, giving his Mom a reassuring smile as they watched Dean and waited.

Y/N knew he was there before he ever knocked, having heard the tell-take sound of the Impala's engine rolling up outside. She was wrong. It took half anhour for Sam to track her down. She smiled despite the panic rearing its ugly head.

She took a deep breath and opened the door, just enough to situate herself in its opening. The mere sight of him took her breath away, as handsome as ever, his eyes filled with emotion.

"Hey, Y/N," he breathed out, his eyes taking in every little detail of her from head to toe, recommiting it to memory and noting the subtle changes.

"H-hey, Dean," she cursed at how her voice shook, her panic and fear still very present. She glanced at his covered arm and Dean followed her gaze.

He rolled up his sleeve, revealing the smooth skin. "I don't have the Mark anymore."

"How?" she asked, her eyes wide as she took a step towards him, her fingers running over the smooth skin.

Dean's breath hitched at her touch, her proximity making his heart race. "That's kind of a long story," he chuckled nervously.

She stepped back into the doorway, glancing over her shoulder into the house before looking back at him. She noticed the Impala idling out front, Sam and a woman waiting in the car.

"Do you - is there someone else here?" Dean asked even though he was terrified of her answer. "I can come back or…or just leave," he offered, swallowing hard.

Y/N's heart broke at his vulnerability and she sighed, opening the door wider and stepping aside to allow him in. She closed the door behind them, giving Dean a moment to look over the inside of her house. Basic furnishings and decorations throughout, but she she knew there was no way he'd miss the highchair in the corner of the kitchen or the toys littered about the small space. Or the tiny human in the playpen in the livingroom, cooing as they chewed on a teething ring.

"You have a baby?" Dean asked, his eyes stuck on the small child. She stepped around him, moving to the playpen and taking the child into her arms.

"We have a baby," she corrected him, waiting for his reaction.

The silence drug out as she watched Dean process the information, doing the math in his head, his eyes landing on the child once more.

"Why?" he asked, his voice cracking. She could see his hurt and anger clashing within him, his eyes welling with tears. "Why did you leave? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was scared," she admitted shamefully. "I was scared of the Mark and what it was doing to you. And I was scared of how I was falling for you, Dean," she forced the words out, feeling her own tears forming. "I was scared to love you and scared to tell you and scared of you," she admitted with a huff.

"You weren't the only one who was scared," Dean spoke after a drawn out silence between them. "You weren't the only one falling and scared, Y/N."

She didn't know how to respond to his statement, her need to run and avoid still thrumming within her.

"Do you want to hold your daughter, Dean?" she asked with a smile. Dean carefully but eagerly took her from Y/N's arms, cradling the child in his own. "Her name's Ava."

"Ava," Dean whispered reverently, his eyes locked on the tiny features of his daughter. His daughter. It felt like a djinn dream. He'd found Y/N and she was alive and well and had their child. Having his Mom back had made Dean happier than he ever thought possible. But this moment right here, this was the greatest single moment of his life. Earmarked as a whole new level of happy washed over him. Until a disturbing thought occured to him.

"Is there a boyfriend or something I need to worry about?" he asked. "Some other father figure in her life?"

"No," Y/N sighed, running her fingers over her daughter head. "There could never be anyone after you, Dean."

He'd definitely address that later. He moved to the couch, gingerly sitting down and being delicate with Ava. He pulled out his phone to send a text, then she heard the Impala driving away. They spent the evening doting Ava with attention, the two of them sharing their lives over their time apart.

Dean participated in every aspect of Ava's nightly routine, helping to bathe her and put her to bed. With every second he was with the two of them his heart swelled further. There was no way he could be apart from them now.

"Come home with me?" Dean asked as they sat in the living room again.

"What?"

"You and Ava, you can move into the Bunker. There's plenty of space and it's warded so it's safe. And we'd have Sam and Mom and Cas to help out."

"Dean-"

"I don't have the Mark anymore, and my feelings haven't changed," he took a chance, scooting closer to her on the couch and cupping her cheek with one hand. "I have missed you every day. I've wondered again and again what I could have done differently. Now that I've found you both I don't ever want to be without you again."

The intensity in his eyes, the warmth from his touch, his familiar smell swirling around her, his heartfelt words that plucked every heartstring made the tears she'd been holding back fall. Once the dam was broken, she couldn't stop the sobs from taking over.

Dean shushed her, his hand moving to the back of her head as he tucked her face into the crook of his neck, soothing her the best he could. His own tears fell as he held her, the pain of the past falling away with each shed tear.

"I'm so sorry," she finally spoke, pulling back to meet his eyes and let him know she truly meant it. "I was scared but I never wanted to hurt you. I'm so sorry, Dean."

He wiped her tears with his thumbs, cupping her face and gently pressing his lips to hers in a chaste kiss.

"It's okay," he insisted. "We're here now, right?"

She nodded and he kissed her again. This time she responded eagerly, so grateful for his forgiveness, for his love, for him. She had so very much missed her Dean.

She panted for breath between kisses, her heart thudding loudly in her chest as goosebumps rose on her skin. She tried to push herself impossibly closer, hooking her arms under his and clutching the back of his shirt.

He pulled her tightly against him as he kissed her passionately, pouring himself into it, his hands tangling in her hair as he held her to him. The taste and feel of her was better than he remembered, sending sparks through his entire being. He needed to connect with her again.

In a seamless maneuver, he lifted her by the hips to straddle his lap, then stood and walked to her bedroom, setting her back on her feet once the door was closed behind them. He paused, taking a moment to appreciate her in front of him and in his arms once more.

The fear began to creep back in, making him doubt if he should take the chance again. He didn't think he could survive it if she left again or asked him to go. She said she had fallen for him back then, but did she still feel that way? He did, he said as much, but did she?

She cupped his cheek, instinctually knowing what was going through his mind just then. Afterall, the had been close friends for years and that intuation doesn't just go away. The connection they had seemed to flare back up between them as if they'd never been apart.

"I want you," she reassured him, kissing him sweetly and meeting his eyes once more. "I love you, Dean, and I want you."

A distinct whine could be heard passing his lips as he crashed them into hers once more, hungrily devouring her mouth as his hands clutched and pulled at her clothes. Walking her back toward the bed, his lips trailed down her neck, nipping and sucking marks along the way.

He pulled back long enough to remove her shirt before attacking her mouth once more, the force of his kisses sending her falling back onto the bed. His lips never left her as he followed her down, pressing the length of his body against her.

His hands worked quickly, removing her bra as his lips moved over her collarbone and down to her breasts, leaving a wet trail to cool in the air. Reaching her nipple, he sucked and licked with the tip of his tongue as one hand moved to massage the neglected breast. His other hand trailed down her stomach and flicked open the button of her jeans.

He groaned, getting lost in the feel and taste of her, his ears rang with the sweet little sounds that fell from her parted lips.

He switched breasts suddenly, his mouth worked her into a frenzy as he removed the rest of her clothing. He paused to look over her now bare body, taking in every detail. She cupped his cheek, leaning up to kiss kim. He returned it, but pulled back before it could go too far. Instead, he kissed down her stomach -ignoring her whines of protest- and settled between her legs.

Her head rolled back, a shout falling from her lips at the sudden feel of his mouth and tongue sinfully devouring her pussy. She looked down at him, his eyes closed as he held her firmly in place and savored her flavor. He was still fully clothed and something about the contrast turned her on even more.

Dean proceeded to lick, nip, suck, and kiss every line, crease, and fold, grunting and moaning with her flavor. Bringing a finger to her entrance he slid in slowly, feeling her tight, wet warmth accept him greedily. He hummed in satisfaction, the vibrations causing her hips to jerk involuntarily. As her walls relaxed, he added a second finger finding her sweet spot in a matter of seconds.

He thrust his hand fast and with a final harsh flick of his tongue against her clit she came, screaming loudly. Her walls clenched around his fingers, thighs trembling and chest heaving. He pumped his fingers harder, sucking on her clit and riding her through her orgasm, taking every ounce of it for himself greedily.

As she lay recovering, her body shaking from the force of her climax, he climbed from the bed, quickly removing his clothes and covering her body with his before she even had time to miss his warmth.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he breathed out, his heart beating hard in his chest at seeing the bliss swimming in her eyes.

Wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his lips to hers, she wrapped her legs around his hips, attempting to pull him as close as possible to her. Every hair on her body was standing on end and every inch of skin pined for his touch. Breathing heavily, her eyes flooded with need, she looked deep into his eyes.

“Please, Dean-” she whined, pressing her chest against his, “-I need you.”

"I need you too, so much," he swore, rutting his length against her wet folds, teasing them both and slicking himself up. Holding her gaze he slowly entered her core, both of them gasping at the slick slide.

As he bottomed out, she could feel herself fluttering around him, her walls relaxing for the exquisite stretch of his cock. Her hands clutched at his back, her thighs squeezing his hips. He places tender kisses along her skin as she adjusted, the shift of her hips and delicious moan letting him know she was ready.

She expected he might be hard and fast, but what she got was another side to Dean entirely. He slowly withdrew, every inch of him dragging against her walls, pushing back in at the same slow pace. He watched her face, kissing her sweetly, enjoying her.

He felt so good, so warm and solid and real, stretching her deliciously, his sweaty skin gliding against hers as the heat between them amped up. The slower pace had her mind focusing and feeling every spot in which they were connected. From his hands on her sides and hips, to his lips all over her face and neck, to her thigh against his hip. She was surrounded in all things Dean, all of him touching and loving all of her.

"Dean." She felt on the verge of tears, her heart swelling with her emotions, the tender look in his glistening eyes saying more than words ever could.

"I know, Baby," he kissed her deeply, lifting her leg higher against his side and increasing his pace slightly.

Dean had never experienced sex like this before, with an intensity and purpose far beyond just getting off. He wanted to feel her, to savor every inch of her, to enjoy the climb to the summit with her. Every move, every sound she made had him moaning and biting his lip, using all his self-control to maintain his gentler pace.

When she tilted her hips, her thighs clenching around him, he immediately hit her sweet spot, making her gasp and clutch him tighter. He slowed even further, his arms under her shoulders holding her close as he smirked down at her.

"Right there, Baby?" he asked, thrusting his hips just enough that the spongey head of his dick hit her sensitive g-spot.

She threw her head back into the pillow, a guttural moan ripped deep from her chest. He took the opening, lowering his mouth to suck a mark on her exposed throat. Rolling his hips with deep fluid strokes, he felt her walls ripple as she grew closer and closer to her peak.

“I’m gonna make you cum so hard,” he promised, nipping at her ear lobe.

The moans fell from her lips with no control. It was a good thing he was holding onto to her so tightly, she felt like she might explode into a million pieces if he wasn't grounding her.

“Come for me, Baby. I wanna feel it,” he whispered in her ear, his breath panting in short bursts, his cock twitching inside her as he neared his own release.

Her eyes clenched shut, her breath held as his words pushed her dangerously to the edge. She tried to hold it back as long as she could, wanting to feel him just like this for as long as possible, but his relentless pounding made her efforts short-lived. Feeling him twitch inside her, hearing his grunts and hushed curses, her orgasm ripped through her entire being.

He struggled to keep his eyes open, watching her face as she climaxed in a beautiful explosion. His brow furrowed, his mouth hung open as she pulled him over the edge with her. He choked on a sound as his face fell to the crook of her neck, his hips pumping lazily until slowing to a stop. His body shook against hers before he slowly pulled from her, wincing at the effort.

Moving to lay beside her, he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her to lay on her side facing him. Leaning in, he captured her lips again, completely drunk on her. Turning to his back, he tucked her into his side, her arm draped across his middle.

I’m exhausted,” she giggled, “You’re amazing.”

He laughed, the post-coital bliss making his head spin. He wished it could always be like this. It didn't take her long to fall asleep, but Dean was hesitant to relax. He was terrified he'd wake up to find her gone again, or worse, that it was all a dream. Emotional and physical exhaustion won out in the end, so he gave in to the need to sleep, his arms still holding her close.

Dean sucked in a sharp breath as he suddenly came to consciousness. Wiping the sleep from his eyes he sat up a little, forcing his vision to focus. A bit of panic flared up in him, not immediately recognizing the room. Then he remember last night. Looking to the other side of the bed, it was empty, the sheets cool. The panic flared up again, wondering if she had left him like before.

He hastily dressed, donning his flannel after an unsuccessful attempt to find his t-shirt. After a quick trip to the bathroom, Dean made his way down the hall, peering into Ava's room and finding her gone as well. A sinking feeling landed in his stomach, twisting painfully.

The sound of familiar voices drew him through the house to the dining room. Ava was sat in her highchair, Sam and Mary sat either side of her, doting the small child with all of their attention and affection. His eyes drifted into the connected kitchen, seeing Y/N sipping on her coffee as she cooked breakfast.

Clearing his throat to annouce himself, Dean made his way to his mother first, leaning down and squeezing her shoulders as he placed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

"Mornin', Mom," he smiled, before moving on to Ava to do the same. "Mornin', Precious." He simply gave Sam an acknowledging nod and his brother returned the gesture. With a deep breath, he made his way into the kitchen.

Now that his panic had subsided, he felt like a guilt fool. He couldn't help but think she'd left him again. He poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, eyeing Y/N from head to toe.

"That's why I couldn't find my t-shirt," he smirked, seeing her wearing said clothing with a pair of shorts.

She blushed and finished cooking, turning everything off and putting it on plates to table to the table. As Dean looked over the dining table, everyone he cared about most together and alive in once place. It was something he could definitely get used to.

"So, are you and Ava coming back to the Bunker with us?" Mary asked as they all dug into the food.

"Oh, she's coming back!" Sam argued, "Even if I have to hogtie her and throw her in the backseat."

"Sam!" Mary chastized.

"He's not the only one she left," Sam accused, pointing at Y/N.

"Sam," Y/N was heartbroken. Her and Sam had been close friends as well and in the midst of everything with Dean, she honestly hadn't thought about how it might affect him too. "I'm so sorry. I was afraid, of a lot of things. But I am coming back. Ava and I are coming home."

She knew it would take time for them to fully forgive her and trust her again. She was willing to put in the work, to be patient and understanding. It wasn't their fault this mess happened. This time, it was all on her, and she intended to fix it come hell or high water.

"Good," Sam nodded, casually digging back into his breakfast. "You hurt him again and I'm coming for you."

Even though he flashed her a playful grin, she knew he wasn't entirely joking. She nodded and smiled, letting him know she understood. She had no intentions of leaving ever again. She'd found her family. Or rather, they'd found her. Seeing everyone together, she wondered why she was ever afraid to begin with.

FOREVERS:

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#afraid to love #spndeanbingo #dean winchester #dean x f!reader #dean x reader #reader insert #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #smut

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alonetimelover · 1 year

Text

Fade To Black

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, ep. 3 (yes, all that is happening here too), implied SA (nothing explicitly described), talk about suicide, angst, drugs consumption, feels

summary: YN loved Joel more than anyone ever. Joel was selfish and scared. They both made mistakes. They both said too much and not enough in different points in time. But it all led them to Bill's town and aftermath of what had happened, understanding something very important - love isn't always forever.

word count: ~ 7,3k

a/n: finally got over the fear of writing for joel... hope you like it x

part 2

“I love you, Joel,” she said, admiring his face - scarred, dirty and with wrinkles adoring his forehead and area over his eyes.

There could be - there was - no one else that she could love more. No one after the whole world went to shit. Not her ex-fiancé that got infected the day of the outbreak, not her ex-boyfriend she shot after he was ready to hurt the child - Riley - she was taking care of in the QZ. Not her parents, who left her when she was five years old. Not any of her foster parents - there were more than 10 couples. She couldn’t really remember all of them.

For years she had thought she wouldn’t be able to love anybody. And then she met Joel. And she fell in love.

“You’re good, YN. I think Joel’d like you.”

“Don’t be stupid, Tess. I’m not good for your job, I’m a nurse not a fighter or smuggler. I can stitch you up after a bad run but there is nothing more for me to do on your escapades with him,” she answered, laughing quietly.

“I think the opposite. Just try, he’s not gonna bite you, and if he tries I’ll deal with him.” Tess smiled.

He didn’t bite her. From the moment he saw her, he deep down knew - she was going to change his life, him. The breeze of fresh air that she provided in the polluted world he’d been living in for over eight years. And the smile she greeted him with. The little twinkle in her eyes, saying more than her words, showing him her true self, the one she wasn’t yet ready to show.

She was going to change his life.

And she did.

“You’ve become soft, Miller,” said Robert on one of their meet-ups. No things to trade what annoyed Joel, putting him on the last strand of patience towards this excuse of a man. “That doll is making you weak.”

Joel scoffed at him. ‘Piece of shit’, he thought. If not the thing Robert promised to trade over with him, he’d kill him on the spot. Or not. Two years ago he would demolish him, rip him. One year ago he’d disembowel him for all the shit he made pointing out. Now? Maybe if he said one more word about YN he would.

“You’ve got my stuff?”

“I have something better. It-”

“I don’t need anythin’ better. I need my thing,” Joel pressed, standing up from the bench. “Either you give what I came here for or I’m leaving, no pills for you.”

“Pussy whip,” Robert scoffed, not being able to say another word, having his nose now broken.

“My books, you have ‘em?”

“What the fuck, Joel?! What the fuck!” Robert was cursing at the older Miller, trying to stop the bleeding. “You fucking dickhead, you fucker!”

Joel didn’t have time for this. It was already 5:50 and the time to walk home was much longer than 10 minutes. He was going to bribe guards once again for not following curfew. But most importantly, YN was waiting for him, probably - for sure - worried sick, he promised to be there at 5 at worst.

“You’ve got 10 seconds to bring me what’s mine.”

Robert, still cursing at Joel, trew all the books that YN had listed to Joel over the years. Her birthday was coming up, and it was the only thing that he came up with to surprise her with. Plus, a trip to Bill and Frank for a nice dinner that Frank had suggested last time. Maybe he would find some flowers along the way to give her as well.

“Wasn’t that hard, was it?”

YN remembered those birthdays being the best she ever had. Better than the one where she got her dream bike or she got accepted to medical school years before the outbreak happened. All the books she’d already read were one more time for her to enjoy, thanks to Joel. She finally had something to read to the kids she was looking after at the makeshift kindergarten she had founded.

The trip to Bill and Frank, the flowers Joel picked up for her, made her forget about the pandemic. For the first time since 26th of September 2003 she forgot there was something called ‘pandemic’. Joel gave her one, normal day she didn’t know that she had craved so much.

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Is it working?” Joel smirked, giving her yet another one of the field flowers he'd been picking up since they passed the hill, strolling towards Bill’s town.

“I’ll let you know sometime. It may be.”

“Glad to know I still have game,” he mumbled, looking around - always making sure they, she was protected and safe.

“Does it feel strange to you? Giving flowers, celebrating?”

“A little. I’ve never thought I’d ever give flowers to a beautiful woman again. I’ve never thought I’d be able to feel anything ever again. Not after -”

“It’s okay,” she stopped him, knowing that the topic he was referring to was taboo. There was no obligation for him to start talking about what changed him so much during the outbreak day. If he started he would feel too guilty to talk to her for the next two weeks - it already happened once. “Thank you for doing it, I appreciate it so much.”

“You’re my guardian angel, ya know?”

“And you’re mine.”

They were together for a year and a half when that conversation happened. Conversation that no one would believe could be held with Joel Miller. The monster, the killer, the smuggler and the QZ fear-inspiring man. Tess didn’t know this side of him, nor did Tommy. Joel reserved it for YN only, not knowing when and where. Not really knowing why. At least then he didn’t know that.

She brought him peace he seeked since Sarah. Romantic and platonic love, he’d never felt before. Safeness, he thought, was required only from him and he didn’t have the right to feel it.

It was all a mystery. Man that could kill another person for looking wrongly at him or her, was almost running around the field trying to choose the prettiest flowers. The duality of the man was surprising even for the said man. It was also scary. He felt he was going to lose one side for the other, and he couldn’t let that happen. He was not going to be able to keep her safe if he let himself slip. Then it would be someone hurting her, or him doing it.

The sun above them was right at the zenith, burning their skins. The slight wind bringing a passing refreshment, made the leaves rustle. It was a beautiful day.

“Thank you guys for letting us be here,” YN spoke to Bill and Frank. “It means so much to me, to us.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, YN. There is always one day during the year that you have your birthday, isn't there?” Frank smiled cheerfully, kicking Bill under the table. ‘Say something nice’ was what he said with his eyes.

“Happy birthday, YN.”

And that was what he really meant. Because from all three of their usual visitors - YN, Tess and Joel, Bill liked YN the most. And it scared him. Somehow he felt the connection immediately, and after a year of knowing her - he thought of her as a daughter he’d never had. He slipped that once to Frank and it warmed his heart, because Frank felt the same.

“Thank you. Thank you so much, I couldn’t ask for a better way to spend this day.”

“If you guys want,” Frank carefully looked at Bill, earning a surprising nod, “if you guys want, you can stay the night. Shower, sleep in an actually good bed, have a drink. It’s - it’s our gift to you, YN.”

…

“We’ll talk over the radio, baby. I’ll visit whenever I can. I’ll find things to trade with Bill every week, I promise you. I won’t leave you. It’s not over,” Joel was repeating the same sentences over and over again for the last ten minutes. It was more to himself, saying he’d try and wouldn’t give up on them.

“I know, Joel. I’m not afraid of that. I - I’ll just miss you, very, very much,” she answered with tears in her eyes. She didn’t know why she was crying. Bill’s town wasn’t much away from Boston, they had radio to talk over with. It wasn’t the end of their story. Or maybe subconsciously she felt it was going to be the slow end? “I love you, Joel.”

“I know.”

“Promise?”

“On my life.”

“Joel! Are you listening to me? I’ve been asking you questions for the last ten minutes!” Ellie finally yelled at Joel, throwing him out of the daydream. Did it really happen the way he remembered it?

Hiking the same route he did with her, passing the field with their flowers, the plane and the little shop. Every step he took brought back memories. Especially that one. Those words had hunted him once. And they were doing it again. Rightfully so. He once again broke the promise to the person that meant to him the most.

“Yeah, yeah. What was the question?” he said still not all present with Ellie.

“I asked if they’re nice.”

“Frank is."

“And Bill?”

“He never liked me. Now he’s going to probably shoot me on the spot.”

Ellie stopped, “then why in the fuck are we going there? Do I need to remind you, I’m supposed to be delivered to some Firefly hospital? Joel?” She tried catching his attention, failing again. “Jesus Christ, we’re gonna die.”

“We’re not gonna die. I - I’ll just go up there without my gun, hands up and all that. It’ll be fine. You’re with me, it’s gonna keep me alive at least till I explain myself.”

“Why does Bill want to kill you?”

“I’m not a good man.”

“Yeah, no shit. Who is when the world falls apart?”

“You’d be surprised. There are people finding beauty and kindness even when the world goes to shit.”

“Stupid ones, for sure.”

“No,” he defended quickly. YN wasn’t stupid. If something, she was the smartest of them all. “Not stupid. Just good. There still are people like that.”

“So…that Frank?”

“Partially. He probably wants to kill me too, even though he once liked me. Or I thought so he did.”

“Is there someone else living there?”

“You ask a lot of goddamn questions, Ellie.” Joel had had enough. He already said too much. It’s going to hunt him in his sleep, as if he hadn’t had enough nightmares to deal with.

“Yes, I do. But, it’s the most you’ve ever talked to me. I call it a win. And,” she longed, smirking at Joel’s grimace. “I know that there is someone else in that town.”

He left that sentence flying with the wind. Was YN still there? She must have been. She wouldn’t have left Frank and Bill alone. Especially if Frank’s health would go worse than it had already been for a few years. She wasn’t like that. She would most likely lay over the wire for them to walk over her carefully than leave all alone.

“Holy shit,” Ellie exclaimed upon seeing the town. “Those guys are geniuses!”

Joel shook his head and opened the gate with the code that Bill had given him almost ten years ago. “Now listen, I’m giving you the rifle, and the pistol. You put it away, somewhere safe. Have a knife on you, I’ll too. Don’t stress over the words Bill or Frank say. Don’t attack them, on any condition. Understood?”

Ellie nodded her head.

“Understood?” Joel repeated, this time more pushing.

“Understood.”

Ellie did as Joel asked her to, and followed him two steps behind. It was crazy. The whole town was gated, flowers were blooming in their pots, flags waving at them with the wind and shop displays being tidy. It all looked like pandemic never reached this town, never touched this ground, infecting it. It was like the world in the early 2003. Or how she imagined it must have been before.

“Is that how towns looked before it all happened?”

“Some of them. It’s one of the nicest ones. There was a church nearby, clothing store, furniture one, too. You could find anything in minutes away from your home,” Joel answered frantically looking around. She must’ve been here. The flowers were taken care of, the lawns, trees and shops’ displays. It was all her, he knew it.

“Which house is Frank’s?”

“The white one, with most flowers around it.”

“You see that no one has shot you, yet. Maybe, maybe you’re not that bad to them?”

“Get behind me.”

They were right in front of the house. It was all wrong suddenly. The doors were opened and the swing on the porch was broken. Flowers in the blue pot that YN painted for Frank were gone, the pot smashed with soil surrounding it. Looking to his right he saw two new beds of flowers, adoring the freshly mowed lawn. On the left, ground was overcropped, grass around it likely burnt. Something happened there and it made him sick to his stomach.

He opened the fence slowly so as not to make it squeak. In no time he was on the porch, opening the door wider to get in. House smelled like oil paint and flowers, Joel recognised them as daffodils - YN’s favourite. With each step taken carefully, Ellie right behind him, he examined the space. It was clean. Too clean.

“Bill? Frank?” He finally let the words spill into the void.

“What the fuck?” Ellie said in awe.

Joel gave her a look, “stay here. Ya hear anything, you see anything -” he looked at the kitchen door, “yell.”

“What if they’re gone?” Ellie prompted.

‘There was no way,’ he thought, looking at the young girl. Bill and Frank were fine. YN was fine. He went into the kitchen not sparing Ellie another look. He needed to find them, he needed her. Walking towards their bedroom he repeated to himself that they all were fine.

“Frank?” he called, knocking at the door, and trying to open it after a few seconds. Locked.

Front door closed with a thud, making his heart skip a bit.

“Ellie?” Joel asked not too loudly, as to not draw too much attention to himself. “Ellie?”

He moved to the dining room where he left her, not expecting the sight before his eyes. Ellie held against her with a knife pressed tightly to her neck, fear in her eyes mixing with tears. Hands trembling at her sides, where another knife was near her stomach.

“Joel?” Ellie pleaded.

“Told you to stay quiet, kid,” she pressed the knife closer to her artery, blood slowly covering the blade, shallow enough to not cause any damage beside fear. “Listen to me or your blood is covering this carpet.”

She still hadn’t looked at him.

“YN,” Joel sighed, eyes big, looking at the woman who once shared life with him. “YN, baby-”

He took a step forward, “one more step, Miller and I’m sliding it across her neck. I’m warning you.”

“Leave her out of this, YN.”

“Don’t say my name. Don’t use it ever again. Ever. Again.” Her right hand, near Ellie’s neck, started noticeably trembling.

“Ellie, it’s okay. She’s not going to hurt you,” Joel tried calming down the girl, whose cheeks were already staining with salty tears. Her expression telling Joel to do something. Help me, Joel.

“You’re saying it like you know me.”

“I do know you. Point your knives at me, not her. She’s just a kid,” Joel almost cried.

It wasn’t his YN. He knew it. She knew it.

She let her guard down. Ignored the beeping of her alarm, informing her someone entered the town. She was too engrossed in picking up new flowers to arrange in the house. Thinking about how to change the pipe that was leaking under the bath, but also about the sink in the kitchen that must have gotten clogged over the last years that Bill didn’t have time to check it. Oh, how she wished he taught her more of his skills.

Seeing a random girl standing in her home, made her survival mode fly over ten. Just a young girl but in this world everyone could be a possible danger, a distraction for more powerful people. So she did what Bill did teach her, sneak up, threaten and get the information. She didn’t get a chance to do the last thing. He, he interrupted her. The man she had thought she’d never see again. The man she wished she'd never see again.

Just a little girl. Not older than Riley, maybe even younger. ‘A little girl, YN’ said a voice in her head. ‘Let go.’

She pushed Ellie away from her, making her stumble and fall on her knees near Joel.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” he assured her, helping her stand up. “Get behind me, Ellie.”

What could he do more? Did he still know her as well as he did back then? She must have changed. She did. He did too. There was no way he could predict what would happen if he let his guard down for even a second. But wa she going to keep it up when she was right in front of him? Right there to touch, to hug.

“What are you doing here?” She asked finally, pointing her knives, as he asked, at him.

“I need Bill’s help.”

She scoffed, “too bad. He won’t help you.” She shook her head with a dry laugh. If he truly knew her, the grimace on her face would tell him everything he needed to know.

“I need to talk to him,” Joel pressed, trying to take a step forward. Knife flying down just milimetres away from his boot. “Okay, I understand.”

“Stay back, Joel. Or better - get the fuck out,” she spat.

“Listen-”

“I won’t listen! Get out and don’t look back. You did that once already it can’t be that hard. Out!” She screamed at him, another knife flying towards his feet. “Get out, get out and go to whatever hole you crawled here from.”

Ellie started piecing everything together. She was the woman Tess briefly mentioned at the Fireflies building. ‘Get her to YN. Don’t look at me like that. Just take her. She may be done with you but she won’t let Ellie suffer. She’s too good. Take her to YN. Tell her…’ And then Tess whispered something to Joel, Ellie couldn’t hear. This woman, she must’ve been YN. Also the woman in Joel’s dreams.

“YN, YN, YN,” Joel was repeating over and over again.

“You’re mumbling in your sleep,” Ellie commented, noticing Joel sitting up on the worn-out couch. “Who’s YN?”

“Don’t you have better things to do?” Joel ignored his heart, skipping a beat. All those years and he still held on tight to her.

“‘What am I supposed to do? I’m sure you’ll figure it out.’ is exactly what you said to me. Well surprise, listening to your mumbling was the best entertainment.”

“Listen kid-” But Tess interrupted him.

“Where’s Bill and Frank?” Ellie finally broke the sound of only heavy breathing. “Are they here?”

“Ellie, shut up,” Joel said through his teeth, scared that YN would break her composure and attack her next.

At that moment he didn’t notice what Ellie did. YN looked at the old piano behind them, loving but hurt eyes gazing at the keys. It was the only thing in the house that was covered in dust, everything else was clean. But not the piano, and not the picture frame above it. A picture showing four people: Joel, YN and two men Ellie thought that must have been Bill and Frank. They all were hugging in there. YN and a slightly taller man smiling widely with Joel and the other guy sporting a hard look. Box of chocolates, half-opened lying next to the frame. One chocolate unwrapped, luring the flies. A vase with fresh daffodils next to it was the only cheerful thing there.

Oh.

“Fuck,” she whispered with dispbelief, earing a hard look from Joel. “They’re dead.”

At that YN trembled.

“What are the two of you doing awake at 6 a.m? I thought I’d get some sleep on Saturday,” YN laughed walking into the kitchen, where Bill was helping Frank eat his breakfast. “And you did food? Wow, I’m actually not mad.”

Frank smiled at YN, loving her easy-going personality. Her love for life.

“Surprise,” he said, after chewing the sausage. “What do you say we go shopping today?”

“Shopping?” She chuckled, choosing her own plate full of food. “Whose money are we paying for it with?” Absent-mindedly she reached for the cupboard with medicine, preparing Frank’s pills for the morning - the routine she’d been performing for more than four years now. “What’s the occasion?”

“It’s my last day.”

“Fuck,” YN cursed as the box with pills fell to the ground. Speechless, she looked at Frank and then Bill.

“I’ve decided. Last day and no, don’t say anything yet,” Frank stopped already fumbling over words YN. “It’s settled. No taking backs. It’s my last day and I want to spend it with the both of you, with the people I love the most - my partner and our daughter. So please, will you go shopping with me?”

“Frank, what? I - But - The pills, they, they’re working. You said you feel better, the back and legs don’t hurt as much as they did. You can hold the food better and - and the seizures stopped. You- you’re getting better,” YN was listing all the lies that Frank spilled on her over the last weeks. Hands still trying to pick up all the bottles and arrange them as they were.

“Stop,” Bill said, clasping her hands in his. Somehow he was kneeling next to her, a soft look in his eyes. “Sit down with us, we’ll talk.”

He led her to the chair she usually sat on, placed the food in front of her together with the tea from the herbs she grew in the garden.

“Pills don’t help anymore, YN. They never did. I’m sorry that I’ve been lying to you but - I don’t know. I love seeing you happy after all that happened to you. And my ‘recovery’ was somehow bringing the smile on your face back. It - it was selfish of me. I know. I blame myself every day for it. And I am sorry.” Frank took a pause to dry the tears of his cheeks. “I want you to spend this day with me the way I want it to be. Nothing crazy. Please,” he almost begged.

She just nodded her head. No way she would be able to speak for the next couple of hours.

And she didn't. Silently she helped Frank and Bill choose the suits and a dress for herself. Next she went to the garden and picked the vegetables for dinner that Bill was about to make. ‘Something special’, he assured her with a little smile, quickly disappearing in the kitchen. She picked up the meat from the shed and a few fruits for the dessert. If it was going to be Frank’s last day, it needed to be eventful and near perfect.

“What’s he cookin’?” YN asked Frank, fidgeting with the dress. It was the first time wearing something like it since 2003. It felt foreign. She spoke for the first time since the morning.

“Wouldn’t tell me but it’s not the time to eat, yet. I have a request.”

“Well, anything you want.”

“I - We want you to officiate our marriage. I know it’s illegal and it doesn’t fucking matter in this world but - I’ve always wanted to get married. It was my dream from way back. Can you?” Frank squeezed YN’s hand, as hard as he could (she didn't feel anything, Frank being that weak).

“Okay.”

It was perfect. It couldn’t be more perfect. Bill and Frank all suited up set together near the piano with YN standing before them with a terrible (Bill said so himself with a laugh) speech prepared. Tears, happy tears streaming down her face with each word spilling out of her mouth. Her friends - her dads - were doing what society even it its lowest wouldn’t allow them to do. But in a true Bill and Frank’s way they say ‘fuck it’ and live the way they want it. Even if it's only for a day.

“You may kiss the bri- fuck - groom. You may kiss the groom.”

“I can be a bride,” Frank giggled, softly pecking Bill’s lips. “Always wanted to know how it would be to have a wedding and the ‘you may kiss the bride’ moment. Not bad, not bad.”

“I’m considering divorce,” grumbled Bill, but smirking nonetheless.

“I’m not officiating that. That’s for sure.”

And somehow after having a laugh about it, the air around them got heavier, thicker. The realisation of what was about to happen in the next three or so hours consumed them. Mostly YN. Frank wanted it more than anything else. Bill, well Bill like always was an enigma.

“Is this what you cooked for him the first time?” YN asked, while they were eating the delicious dinner that Bill prepared.

“It is. My best pig for a stranger.” Bill shook his head.

“Love of your life,” Frank corrected. “You knew it back then. I know it.”

Bill just smiled, he did know it. As much as they argued through all the years they’d been together Frank indeed was the love of his life.

YN was watching them, a tiny smile adoring her face. She hated it. She hated this day. More than the one when Joel left her. More than the one when he stopped radioing back. More than the one when she understood he hadn’t really loved her. But if she couldn’t experience the love she’d been seeing in front of her for herself, she was glad she was able to see Bill and Frank do.

Bill came into the room with two bottles of wine.

“I saved the rest of the one we drank that day,” Bill announced. “You don’t mind I share it with Frank, and I’ll unscrew the one you like?”

“Not at all. All yours. I’m not particularly happy about drinking a century year old opened wine.”

“Nothing for me to fear. And you, love, are going to have a nurse just for yourself.” Frank smiled.

Bill poured the wine into the glasses, no emotion on his face. Two glasses of red and one of white which was immediately placed in front of YN. Sitting back, Bill took a long breath, shaking his head from left to right. He pulled out the bag full of crushed pills from his shirt’s pocket. Not giving them a second glance, he put them in one of the wine glasses. Stirred it with a teaspoon and slided towards Frank.

“Will it be enough?” Frank whispered.

“YN measured. Enough to do the job painlessly.”

“You’ll just fall asleep like any other night. Just - just a little bit quicker and -” YN breathed shakily. “For a bit longer.”

With two hands on the glass, Frank looked at Bill with sorrow. But his eyes, his eyes were saying ‘don’t you be sad, it’s all going to be okay. We’ll be together again.’ Then he swung the glass, and drank the drugged wine to the last drop. Bill was watching him with care, slightly absent.

When Frank’s glass hit the table, Bill mimicked his husband. Look, swing, drink, put down. Done.

‘He did it,’ thought YN, looking frantically between the two lovers. She shouldn’t have been surprised, Bill couldn’t live without Frank.

“Were there already pills in the bottle?” asked Frank, ignoring YN’s sobs across from him, paying attention only to Bill.

“Enough to kill a horse. I - I trebled the dose YN told me to use.” Bill pointed at YN, looking quite sorry for not telling her his plan. “This isn’t a tragic suicide at the end of the play. I’m old. I’m satisfied. And you,” his voice started breaking. “You were my purpose.”

“I do not support this,” Frank sighed, eyeing Bill and his vulnerable state. “I should be furious. But from an objective point of view-” he reached for Bill’s hand - “it’s incredibly romantic.”

And they laughed. They laughed because they were going to leave this fucked up world on their own terms. No one was going to take that away from them. They spent amazing years with each other, they loved and hated each other at the same time. They were family. And no one could change that.

“YN,” Frank sighed, looking at the woman he thought of as his own daughter. “YN, please look at us.”

She lifted her head, tear-stained cheeks coming into the view, red puffy eyes and trembling bottom lip. How could it be that she was losing the last people she loved?

“I have one more request.”

YN just nodded her head, not trusting herself to speak.

“Will you play for us? For the last time?”

“Anything you want.”

Slowly all of them moved to the other room when the piano stood. YN helped Bill sit Frank down on the couch, fixing up the cushions to make him comfortable. When Bill sat next to his husband, hand squeezing his, fulfilled smiles on their faces.

“Love will abide,” she started, a teary voice sounding not as good as she wished for. “Take things in stride.”

Bill placed his head on Frank’s shoulder, earning a loving kiss there. It felt like a full circle moment. They came back to the place where they’d started. This room, a piano and the song. The melody of the instrument, delicate and yearning, flying in the air like feathers. YN’s words slowly fading in the void, filling the emptiness that looked to welcome them into. Each second passing, pushing them forward towards the little speckle of light, getting closer and closer. Her beautiful voice accompanying them till the moment it seemed to be miles away.

“And I think I’m gonna miss you, for a long, long time.” She finished singing, not being able to say the last lines. The piano notes getting more silent with the song coming to an end. “I love you, dads.”

With that beautiful ending of the song, they exhaled silently. Their joined hands touched the light, making it surround them with a warm feeling. ‘So that's how it feels.’

Later that night, when she composed herself, YN found Bill’s letter. He asked her to bury their bodies together in front of the house ‘so we’ll be able to protect you’, with flower beds over them ‘no crosses, it’s not gonna be a damn graveyard.’ So she did as he asked, and then one more. ‘Call Joel. Take him or shoot him, I trust your judgement.’

And late that night, she played the 80s on the radio, hoping he’d come. Maybe hearing the song they loved could bring him back to her. Maybe he still cared. ‘He’ll come. He must have loved you once.’

She waited days. Weeks. And months.

He didn’t come.

“YN, I’m so-”

“Oh, no. You can’t be saying it, for fuck’s sake! Fuck you, Joel! Fuck you!” she screamed, pointing a warning finger at him. “You fucking don’t deserve to say those words. They mean nothing. Nothing! You hear me? There is nothing for you to say to me! Nothing to say, to do, not even to think! I don’t want you to even think about me, about them. You don’t deserve it.” She spat the last sentence, standing straight.

“Listen to me, please.”

“Listen to you? Listen to you?” She repeated with a scoff. “Jesus fucking Christ! You’re unbelievable. You want me to listen to you? That’s rich coming from you, Joel. You left me here, promised to radio, visit, remember. You broke each of the promises you made. Each of them!”

“You don’t know it. I never stopped thinking of you. I could never-”

“Stop talking.”

“I could never forget you, YN.”

“Stop.”

“I made mistakes and I am sorry for them. But- but I could never forget you. Never.”

“Fucking stop!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. She had had enough. He couldn’t come back to her life and try to be in it like years ago. “How many times did I play 80s for you?”

“YN-”

“How many times?” she pressed, taking a few steps forward, standing right in front of Joel. He stayed quiet. “Four times. I played them four times!” She nudged his chest four times, pushing him back at the end.

“Hey!” Ellie yelled, but got silenced by Joel’s hand going up in the way of saying ‘it’s okay, I can handle it.’

The anger suddenly left her, being replaced with anguish and grief.

“Two weeks after you left me. Raiders came. Bill got shot. I- I got shot. I thought I was going to die, I thought it was the end and the only thing in my mind was you. I could only think about your damn face,” she stressed, now petting his chest. “Remember what you said when you left?”

He did remember now. It was hounding him in his dreams. Over and over again. Each night waking up with the same word on the mouth: promise.

“Why are you leaving? Frank said you can stay, there’s enough space for both of us. We can start fresh. Right here, Joel. New beginning,” YN whispered to her partner, shaking hands straightening his flannel shirt.

“I can’t. I can’t live this life. Not yet at least. I’m not good enough for it.”

“Not good enough? Joel, my love,” she sighed, pecking his cheek. “We’ve changed since all of this happened. You did, I did. This is our chance to come back to some state of what was before. Don’t you want it?”

“It can’t be like before, don’t you understand? It can’t be.” He shook his head. “It’s not for me.”

“So, you’re breaking up with me?”

“No,” he protested immediately. “Absolutely not.” Joel put his hands on her cheek, looking into her eyes for the first time since starting this conversation. “You’re my light at the end. You’re my present and future, yeah? I care about you and I need you. I- I just can’t be the man you want. I can’t stay here pretending like the world didn’t go to shit. I can’t. Tommy needs me. I don’t belong to this life anymore.”

“It sounds like a goodbye,” she sobbed.

“It’s not.” He brushed the tears away. “It's ‘see you later’, yeah? I ain’t leaving you for good. I’ll come back in no time to visit, I’ll radio you. I- I traded some things for a book with Billboard’s Number 1 hits or some shit. I’ll know everything you want to say. Do you believe me?”

She nodded her head. “I do.”

“I’ll be back. Promise.”

Promise.

“‘I’ll be back. Promise.’ You repeated that five times to me. ‘It’s okay.’ ‘I’ll be back.’ ‘In no time.’ I shouldn’t have been surprised after all the lies you’d told me, should I? It was just another one and little, naive YN believed the man because she was so in love with him,” YN scoffed. “Frank played the 80s for a week, waiting for you to come back. They were sure I wasn’t gonna make it. I still don’t know why I did.”

“Can I say something now?”

She ignored his question, “then Frank got worse. I radioed you, needing more pills to ease the pain. He was suffering so badly.”

That month when Frank needed to live without any medication was probably the worst for anybody in a household. He screamed from the spasms that didn’t give him a moment to shut an eye. He gritted his teeth when YN tried to massage his sore back that was slowly unnaturally contorting. Days after days he became weaker, pain getting harder to deal with. It was the first time he asked YN to use something on him to end it permanently. She knew she couldn’t do it so she ran. She ran in search for any medication that she thought could help with the condition that was slowly developing.

After three days of travelling she stumbled upon a little town - Hardwick - where people weren’t as nice as she had thought they’d be. She traded what she had left on herself - family necklace, last portion of food, her boots and much more that she made herself forget about. The most important was - she got the pills.

Barefoot and almost frozen to death she came back home. She didn’t let Bill take care of her frostbites, wounds those people had caused or a gash on her thigh that was still bleeding. She needed to help Frank. She portioned the pills by milligrams she loosely counted based on his weight and moved it to the box labelled as ‘Frank’s drugs’.

“It’s going to be okay,” she said through her teeth clanking against each other. “It’s going to help you, Frank. You’re going to be okay. I’m sorry it took me so long. I am so sorry,” she cried.

They helped. Not immediately, but they did. Slowly Frank regained the better part of his strength back and accepted the fact that he was going to need a wheelchair. But YN. She never was the same after what happened in Hardwick.

“I got the pills. I got them for -” she paused, remembering the scenes from the shed she was thrown into, the screams, pain and disgust of her own body, making her want to throw up. “Doesn’t matter how. For the whole week I wasn’t here, Bill was playing 80s on the radio. Over and over, waiting for you to come back. He was desperate. Bill never was the one to ask for help and when the one time he was ready to do it - he got stood up.”

Joel felt the guilt. For years he’d felt it. Today, it was just unusually real. After all, the biggest mistake and regret of his life needed to catch up with him. Looking at her red face, tear-stained cheeks and hollow gaze, he deep down knew there was no going back, no chance of going back to how things were years ago.

“I understand that my apology means nothing to you. I -”

“The third time,” she began another story, now sitting at the table. “I just missed you. It was your birthday, it was Sarah’s memorial and I- I really needed to know if you were okay. I feared you were taking those fucking pills and swallowing them with scotch. I feared you were going to try it again. I feared for your life. I feared you were leaving for good. I played Fade To Black knowing that if you were listening you would show up. It was yours - Sarah and your - favourite song, the only one you agreed on staying on the radio. So when after a few days you didn’t come, I knew you were gone. Gone from the life we once shared.”

“You’re spending awfully long hours next to the window, sweetheart,” said Frank one afternoon.

“Huh?”

“And with a head above the clouds, dreamers.” He shook his head teasingly. “What’s bothering you?”

She sighed, “I radioed him. I know, I know, I shouldn’t have.”

“It’s not that you shouldn’t have. By doing so you’re just letting him break you more, hurting you.”

“You think he’s doing it on purpose?” YN wondered.

“I don’t know.”

“He probably forgot, right? It’s been, what? Almost two years. He must have.”

“It’s not that easy to forget you, YN. I don’t think it’s even possible to do so.” Frank smiled, moving closer to her, clasping her hands in his and giving them a chaste kiss. “Impossible, really.”

“Then why?”

“I really don’t know. I wish I could tell you, I wish that I had an answer that would make you happy, that would give you some kind of a confirmation, an all clear. But I don’t have it. I just know that I appreciate you so much, and Bill and I love you. I know it’s not the same, but just know -” he squeezed her hands once more. “You are not alone.”

Placing her head on Frank’s hands, shaking with sobs, she tried to forget the man she loved.

“And I wasn’t supposed to contact you ever again. But then Bill’s last wish was partially doing it. And I did. And here you are. But what’s the funniest is - you’re not here because you heard that something happened here. That something went wrong. That possibly the worst happened. No,” she sleered. “No, you’re here only because you need something. Not because you wanted to see me, to see what must have happened. You’re here for your own benefit. And somehow I am not surprised, you’ve always been selfish.”

It hurt. Each word spilling from her lips hurt Joel. But he deserved it. He knew he deserved more, still surprised he wasn’t lying in the puddle of his own blood after having been shot by her.

Did he have something to make her understand his absence? No. Like she said, he was selfish. And he was a coward. A coward because he realised that he actually still was capable of that feeling that consumes you whole. The one that gives you those butterflies, he’d never understood but could feel now. The one that makes you forget your name while looking at someone, stumbling over words, gettin hot and bothered just because of their look.

He was capable of love.

And it terrified him.

So when he realised it, he did what he was best at - he ran, hid and tried to forget. Forget about anything associated with YN. And everything reminded him of her. The pillow, the only mug in the apartment, the folded rug, the dirty socks under the bed, the little sketch of Sarah that was so accurate he felt her disappointed eyes judging him. YN was everywhere. And he hated and loved it at the same time. Because if he had left her, the only thing he could still have was the memory.

“I love you, Joel. I know you can’t say it, it’s okay. I just need you to know it. I do love you.” She used to say every few weeks, reassuring him. Making him believe that she wasn’t playing. She was genuine.

“I fucking love you.” Said every time he made her see the stars and feel the goosebumps cover her nude body.

“I missed you, I’m sorry. I love you. You’re home.” Said whenever he came back after a run from outside the QZ.

“I love you.” Whispered every night, when she thought he didn’t hear her. But he did, each time.

“I love you,” he said for the first time since they’d met thirteen years ago. His voice, although weak, never sounded more confident.

YN looked up from the table, studying his face for a moment. ‘How much you’ve changed’ she thought. The silver hair, now almost covering half of his gorgeous locks. Wrinkles that he sported from the moment they’d met, now deeper - worry always present on his face. His lips, oh those soft pink lips, now chapped. But his eyes. His eyes were the same. Those brown irises reminding her of a hot chocolate she used to drink every night for comfort. Eyes that told her more than his words ever could. Eyes that lied to her so many times.

“And I loved you, too, Joel. I really did.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #joel miller tlou #joel miller x female reader #joel miller #the last of us #tlou hbo

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frances-baby-houseman · 5 days

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Dear Prudence,

Three years ago, my best friend and I had a falling out. When she asked for my opinion on her new fiancé and their relationship, I expressed some concern as gently as I could. I said it was concerning to me that they had only known each other for three months, that I was her best friend and had never met him (he had no interest in meeting her friends), and that the only times she had spoken to me about him before announcing the engagement were to talk through fights they had where he took rather nasty stances against totally normal things (her having any other men’s phone numbers saved in her phone, etc). She told me that I had never supported any of her relationships, this one was much better than previous ones, and I obviously didn’t actually care for her. I told her that wasn’t true and it was actually that I loved her so much that I was willing to tell her things I could see that she didn’t want to hear.

About a week after that fight, she called me in the middle of the night from the bathroom of a party, and told me that she’s concerned about how often she’s been using different drugs since starting the relationship (I wasn’t aware of this; previously she had occasionally smoked pot and that was it). I found out where she was, picked her up and brought her back to my house. In the morning, she was already gone when I woke up. I tried to call or text her every day for two weeks after that, leaving her messages that I loved her and was there for her and ready to help her when she wanted it. She never answered or acknowledged anything. She also disappeared off all social media. I went to her apartment at the end of the two weeks and there was a “for rent” sign in the window with all her belongings cleared out. She had said she and her fiancé had found a new place and were going to be moving in together, but I didn’t know where it was.

To complicate things, this was about one month before my wedding, where she was a bridesmaid. She dropped out of all wedding-related conversations as well and didn’t come to the bridal shower. The night before the wedding, she called and asked if it would be okay for her to come still. I told her of course! I didn’t push her to talk about anything she didn’t want to and just made sure to deliver the message that I love and support her while she was there. Immediately after the ceremony, my husband and I were outside taking some photos and heard shouting from the front entrance of the hotel.

It was her fiancé, who was telling her that they needed to leave. She waved goodbye and got in the car. I smiled and lied to anyone that asked about her during the reception and said she had gotten a terrible migraine and unfortunately was home in bed, then cried in the shower at the end of the night, knowing that she was truly gone from my life after calling each other sisters for years. I sent her one more text saying I would always be there if she ever needed anything and to please reach out when she was ready to. I never heard anything.

Last week, my mother sent me a picture of the police blotter in the newspaper for her town (about two hours away from where I live), and asked if that was my friend in the mugshot picture. It was listed along with her first name and the previous fiancé’s last name. She had gotten arrested for drunk driving with her 2-year-old son in the car. My heart broke all over again. Without hearing from her/about her, I’d been able to convince myself she had left the bad relationship, gone back to complete that master’s degree program she wanted to, and was happy and healthy. This tells a different story. I know I did what I could for her, and she didn’t want to hear what I was saying or accept my help, but I feel so guilty. How do I get past this?

—Friend Break-Up

Dear Break-Up,

Do you have time this week to just sit down and cry about your friend? Seriously, put it on the calendar. Dedicate an hour to thinking about how much you miss her, how much you hate that she’s suffering, and how you wish things could be different for you two. Really mourn the friendship you could have had if she’d made different choices. Think about how much it broke your heart for her to leave your wedding. Worry about her and her 2-year-old.

You and I both know that guilt doesn’t make sense here. You were patient and accommodating and did all you could for her. And maybe feeling guilty is keeping you from experiencing the more appropriate feeling for this situation: Grief. If you give yourself a chance to experience that—not just in this one-hour appointment with yourself, but over weeks and months—might take your focus away from wondering what you could have done that would have saved her. The answer to that is, of course, nothing.

for @formerly-ujb

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a-boca-do-inferno · 10 months

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you already did, part 2 (vincent mancini x reader) [request]

part 1

summary: Vincent is not a man not to admit his faults. He could be violent, stubborn, a little impulsive, too, but never prideful. At least not with the woman he loved.

warnings: angst, swearing, verbal abuse (sorta), fluff (sorta), just rly toxic stuff what can i tell ya

words: 3.3k

notes: this wasnt supposed to happen but yall cant stand just an angst oneshot 😭 cowards. (self-criticism.) and of course this is loosely based on rebel heart by first aid kit because i was listening to it while writing this. enjoy <3

Silence.

Ever since (y/n) left, Vincent’s life seemed to have gone completely, utterly silent. Soundless were his heavy steps against the wooden floor, so contrary to the natural order of things; as was being away from the only person who ever understood him in this godforsaken world. But to anyone else, he was as bright and strong as ever. Reckless and ruthless as ever, ruling the Corleone empire with an iron fist, a cold heart and little humanity left. And he saw fit that even the last glimpse of his human side would’ve gone away with (y/n). It was as poetic as it was pathetic, and the dense sigh dancing in his lips was as soundless as one would expect from him those days. He felt suffocated. Muted. Silenced. Carrying the weight of the entire world on his shoulders, yet Vinnie was as free as man can be.

Shamefully.

“Dinner’s ready, sweetheart”, a quiet voice comes from the door. His aunt has a soft, inviting expression that’s always there for him, but as soon as her gaze meets his troubled one, Connie frowns slightly. “You don’t look so good.”

“I’m just tired”, he grumbles, looking back down at some documents. It’s not long before he huffs in annoyance, pushing them away and taking a deep breath. He can’t pretend, not with Auntie Connie. Vinnie closes his eyes for a second, rubbing his temples. “I’m just tired”, he repeats, his tone a little gentler now.

Connie shuts the door behind her and takes a step towards him, clasping her hands together. “Is it (y/n)?”

Vincent snorts, raising his brows in humourless amusement. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

She shrugs, taking a seat in front of him. “I won’t lie and say that I understand what it is that you see in that girl, not after the spectacle she made before leaving, but I know how much you miss her.”

Connie sounds faintly accusative to his ears, albeit her words are careful. He was well aware his family had a strong opinion on (y/n) from the beginning of their marriage, especially because she wasn’t Italian, but he never paid mind to them. It would be a cold day in hell when he’d let anyone dictate what he did with his life, no matter how unwavering his loyalty was to the Corleone household. He knew how to separate personal matters from work, always did. Perhaps that is why Vincent had been luckier than Michael as Godfather in that area; while he was ruthless, his passion could never be dialled down to serve some grand, ultimate purpose. Not with (y/n). His miserableness without her around was proof enough of that fact.

“Yeah”, Vincent smirks, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, as his memories can’t help but show the face of his angry ex-wife yelling her lungs out at the most dangerous people he knew. He lets out a low chuckle, looking at the ceiling, “she’s a little crazy, she’s always been, but that’s what drew me to her in the first place. I can’t do peace and quiet, you know me.” He pauses, only to breathe through his nose and glance back at her, with his brows furrowed. “I think I’m going crazy myself without her, anyway.”

He doesn’t usually open up like this with anyone, but his aunt had a way about her that felt like he could lay himself bare, and not hide anything. Apart from that, it was no overstatement to call it like it is: there was a darkness growing inside him with each passing day. And he was alone because he refused to accept it sooner, he knew that much. (y/n) was not one to take ungratefulness kindly, and he admired her for it to no end, even when it meant her letting him go. Vincent knew from the start he married a woman who wouldn’t budge on what she deserved. Maybe that was what hurt him the most; to see things so clearly now. There was no way she could’ve stayed by his side, not without conditioning herself to receive but crumbs of affection.

Connie shakes her head with a little grin, getting his attention. “Then what the hell are you still doing here feeling sorry for yourself?” She nods once, speaking convictively, “go after her.”

Vincent is surprised by the suggestion, and he goes back to staring at the papers in front of him for a moment. Could he, really? The thought had never crossed his mind, funnily enough. As deep as he was in his well of self-pity, any hopefulness from his part just felt childish and petty. Because on top of it all, he understood her decision, mayhaps even supported it internally. (y/n) was worth more than anything he could offer her right now.

And so he sighs again, leaning back in his chair. He snaps his knuckles, studying his ring, “I appreciate the advice, but I reckon (y/n)’s gonna shoot me on sight if she ever sees me again. We’re done, she told me so.”

His aunt grunts, glaring at him. “Is that any way for a Corleone to talk, nephew? I know you better than this!” She gets up and stands by his side, squeezing his shoulder in encouragement. “Listen to your heart. You’re a dead man walking without that silly girl”, she jokes, pushing him slightly.

This goddamn woman. She can see through him like no one can. Vinnie snorts quietly, rolling his eyes and nodding. “Fine, but I’m sending you my hospital bill.”

Vincent was never a man not to admit his faults. He could be violent, aggressive, stubborn, a little impulsive, too, but never prideful. And especially not with the woman he loved more than anything, but their last meeting wasn’t the friendliest of them all. The last time they spoke to each other, (y/n) sat across from him with her unresting look glued to the table while their lawyers sorted out the divorce agreement. As opposed to his cutting words when they fought, both parted ways each with half of their patrimony — which was mostly Vinnie’s —, despite her protests against putting her hands on his “dirty money”.

In that last hearing, his soon-to-be ex-wife kept to herself as best as she could, although she did speak up whenever he couldn’t hold his tongue and would make some resentful and sarcastic remarks. The bickering was inevitable with them, but it now left a sour taste in his lips, so agonisingly different from the lighthearted nature of their banter a few months prior. Vincent experienced a sense of betrayal somehow, and his mouth was known to be working overtime when he was unhappy. He was angry then, he just couldn’t help himself.

And he still was livid, even now; surrounded by striking sorrow and her helpless absence. Vincent was mad at her for making him feel so pathetically small, forced to remain trapped in his own insignificance, only further proving her point of his becoming of a shell of a man because of the family business. And that was all he ever did since she went away, as if the universe’s ultimate laughter at his circumstances: work, work, work. With no soft lips to come home to. With no loving eyes to watch him take off his coat and hang it purposefully on the chair, with the sole motive of trying to get a reaction from her. Vinnie often did. She’d give him one of her fiery, yet sweet stares, ordering him around like he wasn’t the vilest guy in the block. And he complied gladly, crawling into bed the next second.

For that, Vincent was a deeply angry, wrathful man; because he had lost his opportunity at redemption. (y/n) had slipped away right before his eyes, but he was as blind as they came. Like any angry man, he only saw red. Never her.

It was almost like nothing had changed, after all.

Tom points at him with his cigarette, pulling Vincent out of his thoughts. “You sure about this?”

“No. But I’m going insane”, he mutters in reflex, resting his hands on his hips as his uncle gives him a short nod, blowing the smoke.

Dinner’s finished and everyone else has left the table. It was a normal Friday night as any, and he quietly hoped it would continue like this. His week hadn’t been exactly the best one now with the FBI tracking his every move, and he was about to make it even better — or worse, terribly worse — with (y/n)’s certain rejection later on. But it was a change for once, and he couldn’t stand the silence and the dullness of his routine anymore. Besides, he could use some yelling right now. Perhaps it’d make him come back to his senses a bit.

“She’s a nuisance in the business”, Tom’s voice is quiet, level-headed, and Vincent stops his glass halfway through his mouth before his uncle resumes his speech. “She can’t handle this. She’s too soft.”

Vinnie scowls immediately. “Why the hell are you telling me all this as if I didn’t know, eh?”, he snarls, making a sour face as he gulps down his drink in one go. “I fucking married the broad, for Christ’s sake.”

Tom’s face stays neutral and he reclines in his chair. “I’m just asking, Vincent. You gotta be sure about this, ‘cause you already know where she stands.” There is pause, until he adds, “what sacrifices are you willing to make to get her back?”

He meant leaving the business, of course, and Vincent’s knuckles turn white as he squeezes the edge of the table unconsciously. He shakes his head and lets out a fake laugh, his core boiling up with contempt. Vinnie wants to punch Tom, but ends up containing himself. He was getting very good at that. “I don’t even know if she’ll take me back, Uncle Tommy. Let’s be more realistic here, Jesus.”

“Cut the bullshit”, his tone becomes more serious, and Vincent tenses up. It was not everyday he saw this side of Tom. “You ain’t a boy no more, Vinnie. A Don has responsibilities. That girl makes you soft and you know it.”

There it is: the judgement. That was what he couldn’t take anymore. The constant watching his back, always waiting for the next “innocent” suggestion on how to do his job. That the world was out to get him, he knows. But now his own family, the one he swore to protect, the people he’d give his life for? That couldn’t be. He needed some fresh air, and some nice cuddling with his girl. And that’s what he’d do right now.

Fuck that.

“I don’t gotta listen to this”, Vincent stands up abruptly, grabbing his coat and giving one last glare at his uncle. He raises his voice, widening his eyes furiously, “and I don’t wanna hear you say her name again, got that?!”

He left without another word, marching out the house with his chin up and his usual thug walk. Vinnie got into his car and drove away into the night, enjoying the breeze on his face. (y/n) had moved into her old apartment even prior to the divorce papers were ready, and thankfully he knew where that was. He stepped on the pedal and accelerated, eager to see the face he missed so much. His heart was pounding into his chest. Suddenly, his vision appeared to be clearer and something burned in the pit of his stomach, resemblant to the effect of a drug. Just the thought of his baby close again ignited him in such a way.

Almost six months without her scent, her voice, her touch. Would she even let him in, he wondered, this late at night? All alone in her house... Or so he wanted her to be. Nevertheless, as much as it made him irate to think of her in the arms of another, Vinnie couldn’t blame her for going out with other people. On the other hand, he just couldn’t fathom the thought of having anyone other than her. Not just yet. So different from the Vincent he was just before they met. She really had left her mark on him.

He stopped the car in front of her building in a halt. His jacket did nothing to warm him up through the cold wind hitting his face as he got out of the vehicle, shutting the door with a thud that was surely louder than necessary. Vincent took a deep breath and stomped towards her front door, clearing his throat and staring at his shoes for a moment. He adjusted his suit and his hair, brushing it backwards anxiously. Goddamn it, what would he even say? “I missed you, let’s get back together, even though you hate my guts and I can’t compromise because of my family”? He should just leave. This was a bad idea.

He’s turning around when the wooden surface simply disappears from his rear view. The door opened to reveal (y/n) with her hair tied up, staring at him with concern and faint surprise. She had her pyjamas on, like a normal person would so late at night, but his look automatically fell over her bare legs. She looked as beautiful as ever, even more so than he remembered. His heart hammered inside his chest and he tried to appear unaffected at her presence, even though it was useless.

Noticing his intense stare, the girl cleared her throat, raising a questioning brow. “What on earth are you doing here, Vincent?”

Right, he had to speak. “I wanted to see you”, he breathes out, almost choked up, and it’s pathetic, but he’s past caring about that. Vinnie takes a step closer, uninvited, because it’s so much stronger than him at this point. “I miss you, (y/n).” His voice comes out strained, yet resolute.

(y/n) pauses, taking in his sudden approach. “Vincent...”

“Don’t turn me away yet. I just wanna talk, okay?”, he spits in a rush, and he looks like an eager puppy, probably, but he’s also way past caring about that. This is the woman of his life. He can bear to look a little stupid in front of her. “Please, baby, you just gotta listen to me.”

His wife closes her eyes and sighs, making way for him to enter. “I’m not your baby anymore, you know?”

Vincent grins in relief, walking past her to sit on the couch. His palms are sweating and he rubs them against his pants back and forth, rocking his body nervously. He’s got no idea what he’s supposed to answer, he’s never been the romantic type, but the words pour from his mouth anyways, “you’ll always be my baby.”

She looks unfazed by his directness, but her orbs still avoid him. “What do you wanna say that you haven’t already, Vincenzo?” (y/n) crosses her arms and takes a seat across from him, keeping her distance, and he can’t help but feel his chest tighten at this.

“I miss you”, he repeats, blinking a few times. He’s so bad at this, but he’s got to do it. For her. “You’re my life. I can’t be without you, you know that.” She remains silent as he rambles, and he frowns despite himself, the feeling of being suffocated by the nothingness coming all over again. “Talk to me, (y/n)”, Vinnie’s being too demanding for the occasion, but he’s just so fucking tired of this.

“I have nothing to say”, comes the noiseless murmur.

Vincent can spot the water fighting to escape her sombre look, but all he can think of is how fed up he is with these games. “Don’t you lie to me”, he growls, balling up his fists. “Don’t you fucking lie to me, sweetheart.”

“Get out of my house”, she stands up in the blink of an eye, glaring at his direction.

He huffs and gets up only to glower right back at her, ignoring her request. “I won’t leave until we talk this through, okay?” He grabs her arm in a tight hold, mindful not to hurt her. This wasn’t how he was wishing things would go, although he should’ve known. She had left him for a reason. He tries to calm himself with a deep breath and lets go of her forearm, looking into her eyes intently, “tell me the truth, don’t you love me anymore?”

Tears stream down her cheeks, but she doesn’t break their gaze. “You know I do”, she whispers desperately, gripping at his jacket with all her force.

This very moment has happened before, a few times. The same tension and eagerness to make things just work, swimming against the current. This was so like them; to be running towards each other when they should be running away. He touches her fingertips ghostly, caressing them in silent request. (y/n) gulps and squeezes his hand softly, resting it over her pounding chest. His whole body shivers with their closeness, and he has to try his best not to pull her into a kiss right there. He’s never been one to respect boundaries, and that was yet another proof of just how strong his love for that woman was.

“Come back home”, Vincent coos, bringing their foreheads together. His orbs are as watery as hers now, and he bites his trembling lip, waiting for her assured decline.

“That house is not my home, Vincent”, (y/n) whimpers, still holding his palm securely. “You know I won’t ever go back to that place.”

“Damn you”, Vinnie sighs, shutting his eyes tightly. He much preferred her yelling than this again, anyday. “You know I can’t leave, honey.”

“But you want to”, she gives him a piercing stare, and their noses are touching.

He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, their bodies flush against one another, and her hot breath made it all okay somehow. He was almost imploding with emotion. (y/n) knew him too well; just one look at him and she had the perfect words, the perfect timing, as much as he didn’t want to admit it out loud. The moblife was killing him from the inside out, and being away from her was only the last straw. When she hugged him back slowly, there was nothing but them at that moment. Everything else faded. This was real.

“They’ll never let me go”, Vinnie considers gently, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Hell, they might even kill me for this.”

“We can run away”, (y/n) smiles, cupping his cheeks and leaving a quick kiss on his lips. He presses himself against her, devouring her mouth with no further ado. It’s been so long. All the anxiety and anger dissipated under her tender touch, and he deepened the kiss hungrily. When they pulled away, she chuckled, “someone missed me, huh?”

“Don’t joke with that, sweetheart”, he pleads, and his words come out smaller than he intended. Vincent pecks her mouth again, biting her lip weakly with a smirk. “I’m still mad you left.”

(y/n) snickers, swaying their bodies unhurriedly. “I had to.”

He lets out a quiet grunt, nuzzling her jaw, “I know.” His fingers reach her hips and he pulls her closer. “I love you.”

“I love you too”, she purrs, holding him delicately.

And then came the silence. Yet this time, it felt like he could breathe at last. In her arms, it all meant something again. Never mind his other half, (y/n) was simply his entire being. More than whole, Vincent was himself in her presence once more. They could take on the world together, and that’s what he was willing to do for them both. He had the answer for Tom’s question now. For (y/n), he’d give his life.

Shamelessly.

#the godfather #the godfather x reader #the godfather imagine #vincent mancini x reader #vincent mancini #the godfather part iii #andy garcia #vincent corleone #vincent corleone x reader

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trashinaglass-archive · 2 years

Text

New Daddy

Family Man pt 2 (read pt 1 here)

Request by @deepintothenature

Hi. I just read Family man and i loved it. If you accept request would you please write one about reader giving birth to their son?

A/n: I would’ve had this posted by Father’s Day if I were a good writer. But I am, in fact, a very mediocre writer so it wasn’t ready. I didn’t proof read it very closely so if something sounds stupid, my b

Full disclaimer, I’ve never had a child so sorry if anything sounds stupid.

Ends with sexual innuendos bc when does my writing not? Sorry not sorry

One thing you learned while pregnant was that people love talking about themselves. You had heard so many stories about when I was pregnant this or my delivery that to last you a lifetime. And while some of them included helpful advice, no one wanted warn you just how painful labor truly is. You didn’t expect it to easy, but you also didn’t expect it to be this bad.

Your knuckles were turning white from gripping onto the bed railing so hard, trying to breathe through the current contraction. Chris was standing next to you, one hand stroking your hair while the other rested on your hands.

“I feel so bad,” Chris said softly as he watched you. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Keep your penis away from me for the rest of your life,” you said, catching your breathe as the contraction finally subsided. The nurses giggled at your comment, probably hearing it multiple times a day by now.

“Well I don’t really like that idea.”

The anesthesiologist chuckled as she entered the room, a cart full of medication and told in tow. “Well, hopefully, I can help.” Chris stood back to let the woman do her job, watching intently as you did what you were instructed. She had been trying to make conversation with you, but you were too exhausted to contribute much of anything.

Chris, on the other hand, was in awe by the entire process. He had seen you take hits, so he knew you were strong, but he this was a whole new level of strength. And all he could do was stand there and watch.

A few hours later, you were finally holding you’re baby boy.

You and Chris were huddled together as you looked down at the tiny human lying on your chest. His thumb stroked across the baby’s forehead soothingly. “You look just like your mama,” Chris whispered in a higher than normal pitched voice.

“I don’t know. That’s a pretty distinct Evans nose,” you booped the baby’s nose gently.

Chris’s smile was so contagious. This was a moment he had been looking forward to for so long. You always knew he was a family man, but seeing him in the moment just confirmed what you already knew: he was going to be the best dad.

“You did amazing,” he whispered as he turned to look at you. You smiled and looked back down, Chris taking the opportunity to place a kiss to the top of your head.

A ringtone went off moments later. “Who’s that?” you asked, watching Chris as he stood up to grab the phone on the table behind him.

“Scott. We got a baby yet or what?”

You roll your eyes playfully, expecting nothing less from your brother in law. “Should we FaceTime them?”

He shrugged, putting his free hand in his pocket. “If you want. I can also ignore them if you’d prefer that.”

The skin between your brows bunched up at the suggestion. “I mean, I don’t necessarily want anyone in the room passing him around, but I don’t want to just ignore them either.” You took a moment to consider before deciding getting it over with would probably be easiest. “Let’s FaceTime them.”

Chris nodded once before sitting in the chair next to you. His elbows rested on his knees as he opened the phone and began the video call. It didn’t take long before your brother in law answered.

“Where’s the baby!” He shouted immediately followed by the sound of a few smacks as if he was being reprimanded.

“What? You mean this guy?” Chris’s Boston accent jumping out stronger than ever as he kneeled next to your hospital bed with the camera facing the both of you and the little boy on your chest, partially covered by your hospital gown.

A chorus of awws rang out as the group took in the newest edition. “He looks just like you, y/n,” Chris’s mother commented. Your cheeks flushed slightly, feeling pride at the comment.

“I did put in a lot of work,” you smiled, partly joking but also kind of serious. His mom and sister shared a look of understanding, having done the same themselves.

“He hasn’t been too much trouble yet?” his sister asked.

“Not yet, but knowing Chris and Scott…” you trailed off followed by objections from both men.

“He’ll be awesome,” Scott answered for you with a slight scoff.

The youngest sister laughed. “Yeah, that’s one word for it.” You smiled at the camera and let Chris finish up the conversation, before you both said your goodbyes and ended the call.

The nurses came in not too long after to check on mom and baby as well as explain a few things before leaving. The baby was placed in a clear bassinet next to your bed to allow him and you to get some rest for the night.

“You comfy over there?” You ask quietly, watching Chris as he tried sleeping in the chair. He chuckled before answering.

“There’s been worse,” he shrugged.

“Do you want lay with me?”

He shook his head, “I’m fine. As long you’re comfortable.”

“I’ll rephrase that… will you lay with me?” You ask him. No more convincing is needed as Chris made his way to where you were lying, situating yourselves so he was lying on his back with you lying almost completely on top of him. Hands started rubbing softly along your back, as you sigh in content. “I deserve cuddles after today.”

“You do,” he laughed. “You do deserve cuddles. I also got you a little something.” Chris reached into the pocket of his sweats on the opposite side on you, pulling out a small box.

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you lift your head to look between him and the box. The thought of a push present had honestly never crossed your mind, but Chris was such a thoughtful guy. It was the least he could do for you. You took the box gently, as if whatever was inside was going to shattered at a single touch. Opening the box, you found a ring covered in small colored gems. The baby’s birthstone. “Oh my god,” you gasped, covering your mouth slightly. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“You deserve it,” He said simply before he picked the ring out of its spot in the box and took your hand, sliding on your finger. “Perfect,” he whispered, leaning does to place a kiss to your knuckle. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Daddy,” you teased. A grin appearing on your face when you feel the muscles in Chris’s hand tighten as if he wanted to do something but knew he couldn’t.

“You better be careful with that word. We might find ourselves back here next year.”

“Absolutely not,” you replied quickly. “It’s going to be a few years before I even consider another.”

“But you will consider it?” he asked hopefully, always the one to dream of having a big family like his own.

You settle your face onto his chest, ready to close your eyes and sleep for forever. “My vagina needs to heal first.”

Your head moved with Chris’s chest as he silently laughed, not willing to miss the opportunity to he was handed. “I will take great care of your vagina, don’t you worry.”

You didn’t react or say anything back as you moved your hand a few inches higher to pinch and twist his nipple, making him yelp in surprise.

#chris evans #chris evans blurb #chris evans x reader #chris evans oneshot #chris evans imagine

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harryssweatcreaturee · 2 years

Text

Adopting a Storm

it’s been sosoosososoo long since i’ve written and posted on here and im really happy to be back. ily guys and i hope you enjoy this thing i’ve been whipping up, prepare for tears. (((:

please remember to reblog if you like it and feedback is so highly encouraged and welcomed!

masterlist

word count: 2.1k

warnings: sexual content

Sex was a universal language, both engulfed by so much emotion or simply as empty as a bird’s nest in December. Harry told himself time and time again that sex with Y/N was the latter. It meant nothing. It was something purely physical to scratch that itchy feeling of needing an orgasm or release after a particularly rough day.

Mainly because Y/N was married and he knew how prohibited anything with her was. She made sure to remind him often.

“It’s just for some fun, Harry.”

Though it never made sense to him why she was married to someone like her husband, a marriage lacking love and trust since before the moment they said their I do’s, he respected her choice and although he knew it he’d be better off not messing with a married woman, he couldn’t help himself.

It was extremely easy at the beginning to accept his choice. Y/N made it clear that she was looking for something to fulfill an abyss her husband couldn’t and Harry knew he was more than capable and equipped to do so.

Nevermind where or how they met, Y/N was glad they did. Harry was perfect in bed. Always full of surprises and never failing to make her shake and squirm under him, or above him. Her rough days almost always ended with her in Harry’s bed and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

She’d wake up next to her husband, get ready to leave before he’d get up, go to work, get fucked senselessly by Harry, and end in bed once more right next to her husband. Her schedule was that simple. Sinful, but simple.

Austin never questioned her. He liked it that way. Especially when their marriage was built upon promises of wealth and prosperity rather than the morals of a genuine relationship. Y/N came to terms with it when she knew she had no other choice, nothing else waiting for her out there.

Meeting Harry didn’t change that… She tried to refrain from getting attached to his personal life, and he did the same. They became friends quickly though - complaining to each other about their jobs, pestering family members, and rough nights. Y/N learned how to detach and refrain from feeling anything for anyone very quickly. It helped with Harry. Even if he was so sweet and someone so easy to fall for, she knew not to fall into that rabbit hole - or at least not accept that she was peeking into the hole..

Harry on the other hand had fallen into that rabbit hole very early on, but he was extremely great at hiding it. It was hard for him. The woman he wanted to be with belonged to another man who didn’t deserve her. He only fucked her for an hour, a few more if he got lucky, then he’d have to watch her leave to go back to the man who got to have her in ways he didn’t and never could.

It wasn’t something he planned. But after feeling her so intimately on a nightly basis, there was more. It was her soft, worn-out smiles. The short conversations that had no meaning but discovered little bits of her that Harry grew to love. Her voice was always particularly mellow when she had a rougher day - that made Harry treat her more gentle than usual, wanting her to feel like he wouldn’t dare to make her day worse. Y/N loved tracing his muscularity when they laid on his bed right before she had to go. Her eyes would twinkle and gloss, yet they’d look at Harry in something akin to a frown when she got up to leave.

How could he not fall in love?

Unfortunately for his feelings and poor, broken heart, Harry was okay with having a piece of her than none at all.

It was another night of the same routine. 6:45 PM hit the clock with a knock on his door. There she stood, her heels on her hands, her hair already loose and her eyes glossy from exhaustion.

Harry let her in, watching as she walked towards his couch, setting her purse neatly on the couch with her heels perfectly paired on the floor. It made him smile, knowing how much she liked order and precision in nearly every aspect of her life.

“I need twenty-six shots, a flight to France, and three weeks free of idiots and work.” Y/N huffed as walked over to Harry with a frown on her face.

“But lucky me, I know someone who can fuck all the stress and tension away from my little body.”

Harry chuckled, nodding at her words as he leaned down to grab her thighs in command to make her jump and wrap her legs around his waist, her dress riding up her thighs to show her wet panties. It made him so hot and bothered to know she got wet on her way to him, knowing he was about to fix her problem.

“Lucky you, hm? Very, very lucky.”

The kiss was hot, wet, and hard. Harry reacted instinctively to every touch of her soft hands, all the blood in his body rushing to his cock.

“Been thinking about you all day. So fucking hungry for you cunt, baby.”

Y/N moaned into his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of her head as her pussy clenched around nothing. Though she knew how to separate church and state, Y/N was in love with Harry’s cock, his hands, and his talented mouth.

She reacted to any little thing he’d do or say like she was being puppeteered. Y/N felt blessed to be fucked by someone so good in bed, she knew she always needed to come back for more. It was impressive how quick he learned her body and its sweet spots, almost as if Harry had the manual and she was unaware of it.

Harry didn’t even want to waste time by walking to his room.

He reached his dining table, laying her on her back over the wood surface while leaving her legs spread open for him. His fingers hooked on the hem of her thong, ridding them off her delicious skin.

God, he could soak in her all day. Her lips were spread open, her beautiful pink hole glistening and nearly begging to be fucked and ruined. Harry licked his lips like he’d just been offered the most delicious meal of his life, getting on his knees immediately to flatten his tongue right on her cunt.

He moaned at the taste of her arousal, lapping up every ounce of her juice like it was only made for Harry - at least in his head it was only made for him.

“Fuck, H.” Y/N huffed as she propped herself up on her elbows to watch the man devour her so perfectly. “Been wanting your mouth all - fuck - all day.”

Broken moans left her sinful lips with every suckle and lick of Harry’s mouth. He was like a man on a mission, seeking her orgasm as proof of how well he knew her body and its way of unraveling for him. Her body responded to every kiss and touch, how could he want to fuck anyone else? Her body was made for him and he was certain of it.

“Gonna cum for me? I know it’s close, baby. Give it to me.”

His tongue circled around her needy clit, eyes staring up at her glossy ones to make sure she knew how bad he wanted it, making her mouth fall open and a loud gasp leave her lips as her thighs began to shake beside Harry’s head. Harry kept on, letting himself enjoy the feeling of his tongue devouring her pussy until she came all over his mouth and chin.

Y/N’s taste was addicting. Harry couldn’t have enough of it, having to force her thighs open to continue eating her sweet cunt despite her begging to give her a break from the overstimulation.

“Please, H.. I can’t - please.” Her eyes were red and teary, looking down at him pleadingly until he gave in and finally got off his knees.

“I just can’t help myself. You’re so fucking delicious.” Harry said with a chuckle, leaning down to press a wet kiss to the corner of her lips.

Y/N couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her chest, her mouth open about to say something until her phone began to ring in her purse making her head shoot that way with a soft sigh.

It was probably Austin. Y/N scoffed and let herself sit up on the table, the phone continuing to ring as if it were going to answer itself anytime soon, eventually shutting up. “M’not gonna pick it up. I deserve another two orgasms. Maybe three.”

Harry laughed, helping her off the table so they could disappear into his room but that wasn’t going to happen. Not while her phone began to ring again inside her purse, and this time Y/N knew she had to answer it. It was weird for him to call at this time, but he probably needed something that only she knew where it was or how to do it.

“Give me a second, H.” Y/N sighed, walking towards the couch to retrieve her phone from her purse to confirm that it was Austin calling. She cleared her throat, sliding her finger across the screen.

“Hey.”

“Where are you?”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed at his inquiry, finding it weird that he was asking that when he never questioned her whereabouts.

“I’m out. Why?”

“You need to come home. We have to talk. Now.”

Harry figured what might be going on by the way Y/N’s body stiffened and the tone in her voice seemed defensive and deflective. Their night was cut short, but most importantly, Y/N was upset and it was going to leave Harry worried until he’d see her again, unless she’d call him later that night to complain about it.

She locked her phone after Austin hung up, shoving it back into her purse. Y/N tried to come up with something, anything to explain why he suddenly cared about what the hell she was doing, it made her angry. He ruined her schedule, he ruined her orgasm streak, and he ruined the peace she created for herself.

Y/N was afraid that this was the last time she’d see Harry. She wanted to stay, she wanted to say fuck it and stay. But she knew she couldn’t. Y/N always tried to prepare herself for this moment, but it didn’t work. It still hurt knowing she had to walk away from Harry like he really was something strictly physical and fun.

“I gotta go, Harry. I’ll… See you soon.”

Harry stood by the hallway with his eyes trained on the frustrated woman who was desperately trying to gather her things and leave Harry’s house quickly, as if she were being timed. Albeit Harry knew something like this could happen someday, he couldn’t shake away nor explain the feeling of worry growing in his gut.

Watching her leave in a hurry sucked. It truly did.

Though as usual, he planned to carry on with his night, as lonely as always.

A shower, reading another chapter of his book for the month, scrolling through his socials, then off to sleep.

He decided on a longer shower than usual, letting the hot water try and wash away that worry that only grew stronger in his stomach though it didn’t help. It was prevalent and annoying. Harry shut off the water, grabbing his towel to dry himself some before wrapping the towel around his waist and walking back into his room.

His mind was going a million miles per second, thinking about all the possibilities of what could’ve made her leave his house so hurriedly, even if it seemed like there was an obvious answer to it. The answer that slapped his face the second his phone buzzed on his nightstand and he grabbed it to see the message flashing on his screen. A message from Y/N.

‘We can’t see each other anymore. I’m sorry.’

Harry felt his heart stop in his chest at the confirmation of the one thing his mind evaded so often. Her husband found out and now Harry was going to starve from the privilege of Y/N, of having her for an hour a night however she preferred because Harry would make it last inside of him until he’d see her again.

It was gone. She was gone. It only hurt more to know he was stupid enough to allow himself to feel anything for a married woman. Despite not listening to his head and following his heart, he knew he was fucked.

Absolutely ruined for anyone else because he wanted someone he knew he couldn’t have anymore.

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