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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

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The Quiet One 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: have a good day.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

“So, what do you think?” Lloyd asks as he turns to you, outstretching his arms as he gestures to the endless hangers. “All yours. You got your pick.”

You stand just inside the door of the walk-in closet. The space would take up at least half your apartment alone. You cross your arms as you glance along the rows of coloured fabric hung from the walls, organized in a perfect ombre effect of shades. On the far wall, there are shelves full of shoes and accessories, along with a vanity in the centre.

“I know you’re a simple gal,” he grins, “but you don’t have to be anymore. Whatever you want, ain’t no mountain high enough and all that.”

You nod and blow out between your lips. It all still feel surreal like a nightmare. You swallow and tamp down your discomfort. You didn’t hate the life you had. Your small apartment, manageable and tame. You prefer predictability, even if some might say it’s boring.

“Erm, I dunno,” you slowly trail over to the other side of the closet.

“Well, you could pick some shoes first. That might inspire you,” he suggests as he approaches you, “you don’t need to be too fancy, you know, you always look nice.”

“Mm,” you nod,” thanks that’s...”

You let the sentence hang. This is really freaking you out. Your chest feels tight and your head is buzzing. You shudder out a breath.

“What... what am I choosing for?” You croak.

“I told you, jellybean,” he puts his arm around you and pulls you against his side, “it’s a surprise.”

He reaches to grab a hanger and holds it out at arm’s length. A blush-coloured satin dress with a bit of frill at the bottom of the skirt. It’s nothing you would choose yourself.

“Sure, that’s nice,” you say, just to appease him. What else can you do?

“Hm,” he hums, “you don’t like it?”

“I didn’t say...”

“You don’t sound very excited,” he pouts as he turns to you, his hand lingering on your hip, “none of it? I got it all for you.”

“I’ll wear it,” you sniff, “I’m sorry, I’m just... I’m... adjusting.”

You don’t know how else to explain it.

He pushes his lower lip out and narrows his eyes, “sure, sure, makes sense.” He drags his hand off your hip and steps back, keeping the dress up as he angles it before you, as if he’s imagining you in it. “This is gonna look so hot, baby.”

You do your best to stay placid. It’s harder as you heart pounds furiously. You can’t even begin to guess what he has planned but with everything he’s done and said, you know exactly what his intent is.

“You should get washed up, huh? Then get dolled up. Like I said, won’t need much of that,” he winks, “you could walk in ass-naked and I’m sure you’d stun.”

You can’t help how your mouth slants at his remark.

“Alright, jellybean, let’s get you in the tub,” he lays the dress over the velvet bench and spins back, startling you as he grabs both hips and jerks you towards him with a growl, “can I watch? I promise, I’ll try not to touch. Yet.”

You clasp onto his wrists with a yelp. He curls his lips eagerly and you repress your horror. You don’t want to antagonise. You don’t want him to get any worse than he is.

“Um, did you want... to?” You murmur.

“Fucking of course,” he urges you against him, “the things I want to do...” he smirks, “I’m quaking in my boots.”

He bows to smother you with a kiss. His mustache pokes at your uper lip and up your nose as he hums and slides his tongue across your lips. You squeeze your mouth tightly shut but he pokes through, nearly choking you as he invades. You press your hands to his chest as he locks you into his embrace.

Finally, he part and you gasp for breath. He snickers as you puff against him. Your skin is crawling as you wriggle in his hold.

“Yum,” he purrs.

He lets his arms fall away and quickly snags your hand. You let him drag you around to the door, your feet hollow as they move without a thought. Resistance is plainly not a choice.

He takes you back into the adjoining bedroom, the one you awoke in, and through another door way against the perpendicular wall. He steps to the side as he tugs you forward and releases you. Your take in the sleek black walls and black tub, the silver shower head in a monochrome booth, and the ebon marble veined with sparkling white.

“I get it, it’s going to take a lot of getting used to,” he boasts, “this is our home, sweet cheeks. Remember that. You treat it like your very own... it is. Just like me, all yours.”

You pad slowly inside, if only to keep a distance from your captor. You won’t forget what he is. He can give you all the luxurious things but you remember the days of starvation, of terror. He can’t see himself for what he is but you do.

“Face masks, body scrub, bath bomb, shower gel, bonnet, robe,” he points at the fluffy purple robe still around you, “slippers,” he flicks his finger towards the mat beside the door, “lotions, creams, everything you can dream of. Oh damn, I can call a nail tech if you want a fresh mani--”

“Uh, no thanks,” ball up your fists, hiding your short-trimmed nails, “that’s not... that’s okay.”

“Only the best for you, kitty cat,” he says.

He strides forward and you flinch out of his way. He goes to the tub and cranks it on, water splashing out from the high faucet. He flips the silver lever to put the stopper in place and backs up.

“Voila, all for you,” he declares, “I’ll just...” he looks around and backs up to sit on the fluffy cushioned stools near the wall, “sit and watch. If you need help getting your back, I got you.”

He wiggles his fingers and gives a lecherous grin. You withhold a shudder and face the basin, the water battering the bottom. You step forward and peer down into the shallows. You clutch the front of the robe and peek over in his direction but not at him.

He waits, silently. You sway, squeezing the fluffy fabric as you peer back at the water. You don’t know if you can do it. Not with him right there.

“Whatsa matter, baby, you need help?” He shifts and you jolt.

“N-no, I just...” you look down at yourself and frown.

“Ah, you’re shy. I totally get it,” he coos, “you don’t gotta be though. Your beautiful, so you should be proud. Show it off, honey.” He clucks and shakes his head, “you know that’s the thing these days, all you girls, you’re so insecure, but you trust me, sweet lips, you got nothing to be insecure about.”

Your stomach flips. You feel hazy. You try to shrug it off and drop your hands to the belt of the rob. You untie it. You’re really going to do this. Why?

Because you’re afraid? Weak? Yep.

You shed the rob and look around. You hang it on the hook behind the door and return to the tub. It’s getting deeper and deeper. You touch the bottom of your shirt and scrunch it up in your fists. Just do it quickly and get in. He can only see so much from over there.

You pull your shirt off, nothing underneath. You push your pants down quickly, your underwear rolling down inside. The skin feels cooler then and tingles across your naked skin as you latch onto the tub and swing yourself over the edge. You barely get a foot under you before you submerge your body in the water.

You sit up, legs bent, stiff on the porcelain as the water continues to rise. It’s not quite at your chest yet. If you let it fill all the way, it might touch your chin. As you watch the depth climb, you don’t notice him until he closes. You slide to the back of the tub as Lloyd cranks off the faucet.

You notice how his eyes stray to you. Your legs stay bent in front of you, blocking most of everything. You shrink down, hunching your shoulders as he searches through the ripples. He tilts his head and cracks his neck as he exhales and backs away.

“Take your time, baby,” he purrs as he rubs his chest.

He sits again and you lower your head. You’ve never been this bare in front of anyone, rarely even yourself. You’re just not comfortable without some short of shield around you. Your eyes tinge with the threat of tears. You feel like you’ve been hit across the face. This is real. Really real.

Your eyes flick up and you reach for the purple scrubby on the little black shelf. You just have to get through it. That’s what you’ve always done.

👄

You stare into the open case. You’re not entirely unfamiliar with the concept of make-up. When you were a teen, you had a phase, and you’ve been to enough job interviews to wield a mascara wand. Still, the amount seems excess.

There’s almost every sort of product in every shade. Some sort of tap you don’t know what to do with, highlighter, and finishing spray. It’s too much. Your look is either a bare face or nothing at all. More often the former.

You fidget with a tube of lipstick, clicking the lid up and down. This is all so strange. What are you getting ready for? And why? This isn’t your home, this isn’t your life, and yet it’s all so perfectly planned.

“Honey bunnnnnn,” Lloyd’s timbre has you dropping the stick. He strides in, flustered, holding up two ties. He’s half dressed. A pair of red velvet pants and amber satin button up. It’s not a look you would go for. “What do ya think? Which tie? Paisley or the stripes?”

You shrug and shake your head.

He clicks his tongue, “genius, baby, genius. No tie. You’re right. Just the jacket.”

Your mouth falls open and you nod, “sure, yeah.”

You look back at the vanity and huff. Your face is untouched. You sit in your robe in the walk-in closet, mulling over your misery. Self-pity is as inescapable as these walls.

“What’s up, cheeks?” He asks, “you need some help? I’m thinking you could give a bit more colour to lips but keep the rest very subtle.”

He crosses the floor and hovers behind you. You stir around in the case and take out two bottles of foundation. You’ve never really used that either but the shades are pretty close. He lays the ties down on the vanity, brushing your back as he does, and pulls back to grip your shoulders.

“I tried to guess as best I could. Don’t know much about all that but the lady in the store was a blessing,” he massages your shoulders as he talks. You’re tense as steel. “But you know, you got perfect skin so...”

“Mm,” you put the foundation back and peruse the little shelf alongside the mirror. You reach for the moisturizer. Your skin feels raw.

“I like it, au natural. Touch of cream, little lash...”

“I’ll figure it out,” you grumble. He’s kind of annoying. No, he’s really annoying. All of this is annoying.

“Right, yep, I will get out of your way,” he bends and kisses the crown of your head, “lots of time.”

He strolls out and you scowl at the mirror. Something about him is getting to you. You’re not an angry person. You’re a nice person. You don’t go out of your way to be around others but when you are, you strive to be pleasant. Or at least, out of the way.

You spread the cream over your face, watching your reflection as if it’s someone else. Where did he come from? Why? This is some cruel trick because you only ever wanted to mind your business.

You cap the bottle and put the moisturizer back. You fish out a mascara stick and brush it on your lashes then find a neutral lip colour to put on. Nothing special, just like you. Hopefully he sees that soon enough.

You pack away the case and push it to the back of the vanity. You get up and go to the velvet bench where the dress lays. He’s plucked out a few things to go with it. A gold necklace with small diamonds speckled along it and a pair of beige heels.

You peek at the door before you untie the robe. You shiver as your fingers brush your stomach. You close your eyes as you recall how he wrapped you up in a towel after your bath. His touches were more than deliberate but his intrusive gaze made you squirm more.

You pull on the lingerie tucked under the dress. A thong. You’ve never worn one of those, and a satin and lace bra with no padding. Even as you pull the dress up your figure, you feel like you’re on display. You reach back, bending your arm until your elbow throbs as you push the zipper up.

“Need some help?” Lloyd’s voice makes you wince.

You sniff, “sure.”

You hold up the bodice as he approaches. You refuse to look back at him as he nears. He tickles along your spine with a single finger before he tugs on the zipper. He pulls it up little by little, until the fabric is snug around you. His fingertips drift down your back and he spreads his hands across your ass. You gasp.

Before you can step away, his hands glide around and he grabs you by the hips. He pulls you against him and rocks with you. He inhales your scent from above and sighs.

“Jellybean...” he almost sings, “are you...untouched?”

You lock up and grab at his hands, trying to free yourself.

“Is that why you’re so shy?” He snickers and spins you around, hands going to your waits, “I’m honoured to be your first.”

You gape at him, horrified. His intent hasn’t been hard to guess but said aloud, it is all too imminent.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #the gray man #the quiet ones

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gigabyte-flare · 1 year

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There's No Escape (Part 6)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Summary: As you process the fact you're now pregnant with your captor's child, you experience the aftermath of the trauma he's endured in the past.

Pairing: yandere!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Word Count: 2.7k

If any of the warnings below trigger you, please kindly pass on this fic

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life; if you feel this way, please go touch grass. You are solely responsible for your own content consumption

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL YEET YOU INTO THE GODDAMN SUN. Thank you!

Warnings (may not apply to all parts): Sex, gaslighting, swearing, stalking, acts of violence, blood, dubcon, kidnapping, pet names (baby, doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), PTSD triggers, unprotected sex, forced breeding, daddy kink, manipulation, oral (m and f receiving), choking, overstimulation, knife play, gunplay, masterbation, drugging, tokophobia, Stockholm syndrome if you squint. Long story short, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. More warnings could be added in the future.

Tags: @lipglossanon, @ghostkennedy, @explorevenus, @nexyswrites, @ilookatlater, @shroomietrip, @dollrxst, @lomaeuwu, @aliet, @luniaxifics, @miwsolovely (Shoot me a message or an ask if you want to be added to the list!)

A/N: I am sooooooooooooooooooo sorry this took so long to put out! I had massive writer's block with this one. There's a ton of angst in this one, fair warning. Enjoy!

EDIT!!! I forgot to mention there's a nod here to Venus' AI Leon shenanigans as they helped break my writer's block, thank you Venus!!!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The days following the bombshell that was finding out you’re pregnant with Leon’s child were a blur. Most of the time you moseyed around the house, almost in a catatonic state, your mind in denial about the whole thing. Pregnancy and childbirth were two of your biggest fears and they were now a terrifying reality. This morning was no different, you lay in bed on your side, staring off into space as several tears stream down your face. Dark circles were under your eyes from crying almost every night; you also refused to eat, Leon usually had to force feed you.

You feel Leon shift next to you as an arm wraps around your waist. You feel him bury his nose into the hair on the back of your head, inhaling deeply.

“Good morning, my pretty princess, did you sleep well?”

You don’t answer him, you simply continue to stare at the wall. You hear Leon let out a frustrated sigh.

“Baby, can you please answer me? Daddy’s worried about you.”

“I slept fine.” you reply curtly.

Leon forcibly turns you to face him, and you watch as he furrows his eyebrows at you.

“You know it’s not nice to lie to Daddy.” he says, “come here.”

He gets out of bed, pulling you with him to stand in front of a full length mirror.

“See how pretty you are? And the best part?” Leon says before placing his hands on the lower part of your belly, “there’s a part of me inside you now.”

You feel your stomach sink as you look at your nude form in the mirror, your eyes catching a glimpse of Leon standing behind you, his blue eyes locked on you in lust.

“I can’t wait until you start to show, sweetheart. That way I can show the whole world who you belong to.”

Leon presses a kiss into the back of your head before continuing.

“Daddy will take such good care of you and our baby; you won’t have to lift a finger, all you need to focus on is being a good princess and having all of Daddy’s babies.”

You shiver briefly, bringing your arms up to hug yourself as Leon wraps his arms around you, kissing the back of your head and rocking you back and forth in an attempt to comfort you.

“Here, let’s get you dressed and I’ll make us some breakfast, hm?” Leon says, letting you go and approaching the closet to pick out your outfit for the day.

He grabs a pair of really short denim shorts with a white tank top, putting the clothes on you before getting dressed himself, putting on a pair of black cargo pants with a gray tank top. He gently grabs your hand, coaxing you towards the kitchen to have breakfast.

In the kitchen, Leon is cooking bacon and eggs while you sit at the kitchen table, fiddling with a pen that is on the table in your hands. Leon makes up two plates, putting one in front of you before sitting next to you at the small table. You’re reluctant to eat at first until Leon shoots a glare at you.

“You need to eat, don’t make me force you again, sweetheart,” he warns.

You let out a sigh as you begin to eat, fighting back tears that are welling in your eyes.

“That’s my good girl,” he coos, watching you like a hawk as he finishes his breakfast “you’re eating for two now; I have to make sure you’re getting enough to eat for both of you.”

The statement sends chills down your spine, but you somehow finish your breakfast despite it. Once you’re done, Leon collects both the plates and silverware to put them in the sink before leading you into the living room. He sits in his usual chair, coaxing you onto his lap as he turns on the TV to get the news.

He runs his fingers through your hair as he places gentle kisses on your check and along your neck, “I’m so excited to start our family, I’ve dreamt of this for so long…”

“Is that because of what happened in Raccoon City and Spain?” you reply mindlessly.

You feel Leon tense up beneath you and you quickly realize your error; you aren’t supposed to know about Raccoon City or Spain. You feel Leon’s cold blue gaze boring a hole into you before he shoves you onto the floor.

“You’ve been in my office haven’t you?!” he growls, his eyes filled with rage as you get on your knees to stand up.

“Daddy, please… I’m sorry, the door was open and--”

He stands up from his chair and slaps you across the face, causing you to fall over onto the floor. He bends down, grabbing you by your hair to stand you up on your knees again.

“Give me one good reason to forgive you, princess,” Leon growls, tightening his grasp on your hair.

It made you sick to even think about it, but you knew one thing that would quell his anger, “think about our baby, Leon…”

You watch his expression soften a touch, but his grip on your hair remains. Without saying a word, he begins undoing his belt and pants with one hand, pulling out his half hardened cock from his pants.

“Let me fuck and cum in your pretty little mouth, then maybe I’ll consider forgiving you, sweetheart.”

He sticks his thumb in your mouth, prying your mouth open before shifting himself closer, pushing his cock inside your mouth. Immediately he starts thrusting into your mouth, causing you to gag as his cock pushes against the back of your throat; he was doing this for his pleasure, not yours.

Tears pour down your face as you grasp onto his hips in an attempt to slow him down, but it’s futile; he is relentless. Letting out a lust filled growl, Leon looks down at you, a wicked grin spreading across his lips, relishing in the sight of him ravishing your mouth.

“You are going to swallow every drop of my cum, do I make myself clear?”

You try to nod, but Leon’s insistent thrusts into your mouth make that almost impossible; all you can do is gag. A few more minutes pass. Leon’s grip on your hair tightens as his hips push into your mouth. You feel his cock pulse violently as ropes of his cum shoot into your throat. You continue to gag, now afraid you’re actually going to choke on his cum. He holds himself in your mouth until his cock finally stops twitching. He pulls out of your mouth, your lips making a distinct ‘pop’ sound. Inevitably, some of his cum leaks from your lips; you struggle to swallow it all.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Can’t swallow all of Daddy’s cum?” Leon asks, his tone patronizing.

You finally manage to swallow most of it before looking back up at him, “I’m… I’m sorry, Daddy, there’s so much.”

He grabs you by your shoulder, forcing you to stand up before he grabs you, throwing you over his shoulder, “I told you to swallow all of my cum and you didn’t, you bad, bad girl.”

You see that he’s carrying you to the timeout room and you start to struggle, kicking and screaming in his grasp until he drops you onto the bed in the timeout room, fastening the collar around your neck. He kneels down so that he’s eye level with you, the rage he’s holding back apparent in his blue eyes.

“Not only did you go somewhere you weren’t supposed to, sweetheart, but you didn’t do what I had asked you to. You’re going to stay in this room all by yourself until tomorrow morning so you can think about what you did wrong, understood?”

You nod, your eyes red and puffy from crying. You watch Leon stand up, not even giving you a second glance as he walks out of the room, closing and locking the door behind him.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Leon is restless as he lays in bed, staring at the ceiling. This was the first night he slept alone since bringing you here. Every time he closes his eyes, that night in Raccoon City comes rushing back to him, the groans of the undead haunting his subconscious. He felt a chill go through him, which immediately brought him back to when he was infected with Las Plagas, causing him to lay on his side, wrapping his arms around himself.

You were the only one that kept the darkness of the past away and boy did he yearn for you now. But you were being punished and he needed to see that punishment through; he was not about to let you see him like this.

However, as time passed, his body began to tremble and he could feel a panic attack coming, something he hadn’t experienced since that night you had disappeared from his apartment back in D.C.. Grabbing a pillow, he stuffs his face into it and screams, unable to get the awful images of that night in 1998 out of his head. Why did you have to bring it up? Why were you in his office to begin with? He wanted to forget that night, the night his innocence was taken away from him.

He graduated at the top of his class at the police academy, his heart full of light and hope. Filled with a desire to help people. The bright, hopeful police officer died that night in Raccoon City, leaving behind a jaded man full of anger and hate at the horrors and corruption he was exposed to.

Clutching the pillow, trying to pretend it was you, he violently sobs, his voice no doubt echoing through the house. After what seems like hours of this, he couldn’t take it anymore. He tosses the blankets off himself and walks into the bathroom, flipping the light on before looking at himself in the mirror. His eyes were puffy and red with dark circles under them. He looks like hell. Turning on the sink, he splashes cold water onto his face before leaning over the sink, breathing heavily. He turns and leaves the bathroom, shutting off the light. He walks out of the bedroom, heading straight to the timeout room.

He stops in front of the shut door, pressing his palm against it, dragging his hand down until his hand meets the door handle.

He unlocks the door.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You were startled awake by the sound of someone wailing. You were kind of irritated because you had just managed to finally fall asleep after exhausting yourself from crying. The first thought that crossed your mind was ‘oh great, is this place haunted?’ but no, you realize quickly it’s Leon. The wailing finally stops after awhile, much to your relief.

You close your eyes to go back to sleep until you hear the door to the timeout room unlock and open, the door letting out a creaking sound as it slowly swings open. You keep your eyes shut, thinking that if he thinks you’re asleep that he’ll go away. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Leon walks into the room, shutting the door behind him. You feel him collapse onto the bed behind you; you feel him press himself against you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. That’s when you feel it, his body subtly shaking and you hear soft sounds coming from him.

Is he crying…?

You open your eyes, turning over to look at him slightly, “Leon?”

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” you hear him say, “I couldn’t do it, I’m not strong enough… it won’t stop…”

You turn over completely to face him, looking into his bloodshot blue eyes, “what won’t stop?”

“I couldn’t save them… I couldn’t save anyone…” Leon says, “I can still hear them…”

You realize he’s talking about Raccoon City and, judging by the report you read, he witnessed some truly horrific things that clearly scarred him. Your mind starts racing, trying to think of a way to calm him down so that you can go back to sleep. You recall the Kennedy Report, finally.

“But you were able to save the President’s daughter, weren't you?” you reach out, gently caressing his cheek, “you also stopped a horrible parasite from spreading. That’s something, isn’t it, Leon?”

You watch as his breaths slow down, his expression softening as a smile forms on his lips, a genuine one. You hadn’t seen that smile since when you first met him. For a minute you forget that he’s completely deranged. He pulls you in close, kissing the top of your head and he quickly falls asleep and, thankfully, you do, too.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

The next morning, you and Leon ate breakfast in complete silence. You mindlessly push your food around on your plate as Leon stands at the kitchen sink, doing the dishes. You look up at him, the silence now unbearable.

“Do you… want to talk about last night?” you ask hesitantly.

“No.”

You feel your heart sink, clearing your throat before continuing, “I think we should, Leon.”

“You’re becoming awfully comfortable with addressing me incorrectly, my sweet,” Leon says, his voice like venom.

You roll your eyes since his back is turned to you, “it’s not going to get easier if you keep ignoring it.”

He turns around, narrowing his eyes at you, “drop it. Now.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy… I’ll stop,” you say, conceding defeat.

“Good girl.”

The sudden sound of his cellphone ringing in his back pocket made you nearly jump out of your skin. Leon groans, pulling it out and answering it.

“Kennedy speaking… no I can’t come to Bangor today…”

Bangor… as in Bangor, Maine?

“What do you mean the President is here? Fuck… fine, I’ll be there in a couple hours,” Leon hangs up his cellphone, turning to face you, “I have to go into town, can I trust you to be good while I’m gone?”

He doesn’t realize his slip up…

“Yes, Daddy, I’ll be good, I promise.”

Your mind was now racing, trying to fathom where in Maine you potentially were until you suddenly recall a conversation you had with Leon when you two started dating.

“Yeah, I have some property up near Baxter State Park in Maine; I’d like to retire there someday!”

He inadvertently told you where he was going to take you without even realizing it. But what were you going to do with this information? You had no way of communicating with the outside. You finish up your breakfast with renewed vigor as Leon gets ready to leave the house.

Leon comes out of the bedroom, wearing one of his leather jackets with a dark blue button up shirt and a pair of jeans. Admittedly, he was very attractive in this outfit. You must not have hid that on your face very well because he gives you a playful smirk.

“Like what you see baby? Too bad I have to leave you, otherwise I’d fuck you right here. Unfortunately, I can’t refuse an order from the President."

He walks up to you, cupping your head in one of his hands and kissing the top of your head, “I’ll be back later, be good, ok?”

You watch Leon leave the kitchen, listening to the front door open and squeak closed, leaving you with your thoughts. Grabbing your plate, you bring it over to the sink and finish washing the dishes that Leon had started. Your mind continues to race over the fact that you now had a general idea of where Leon has taken you; you had to think of a way to take advantage of this.

You finish up the dishes, drying off your hands before going into the living room. You sit in Leon’s chair, turning on the TV and mindlessly flipping through the channels. You can’t seem to focus, your eyes wandering the room instead of staying on the TV. Your eyes settle on the front door, your eyes widening in shock.

The front door is unlatched.

Part 7

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #yandere!leon kennedy #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy smut #gigabyte writes #there's no escape

698 notes · View notes

jasntodds · 9 months

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Ok but the gifs you just posted of jay... Mmmmm yum. He looks too good, could you imagine him coming in late at night from patrol taking off the red hood gear and laying with you and him talk about how much he loves you in that voice and look like that. Then he's like can i make you feel good?? Ughhhh Just a thot.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: Jason comes home from patrol with only one thing on his mind: you

Warnings: Swearing, 18+, oral (f!receiving), idk I wrote this at 4am lmao

Words: 2,006

A/n: Anon is talking about these gifs and I, too, have some thoughts™️

masterlist | request info | tag list

Jason has two moods when patrol gets a little messy. Sometimes, it’s like it triggers something he begs so desperately to forget. It’s as if all the memories and fears kick down his front door and barge in without ever asking for an invite.

They intrude on his space of peace and calm like a disease wreaking havoc through his nervous system. It’s not usually pretty when that happens. But, other times, it’s as if those memories knock. The fears knock softly and look at him with hope that one day things get better. It’s as if they’re just looking for a way out and Jason is the helpful type. Those nights, he’s not angry or worried or scared, instead, he’s caring. And the only thing left on his mind as he walks through the door, is you.

Jason is always caring towards you. But, on those nights, nights like tonight, it’s always a little more. Nights like tonight are harsh and cruel reminders of what he faces and what the victims face. They are harsh reminders, not that he ever needs one, that in a second, everything can change. Everything he cares about can disappear again. He can disappear from you again. And all he wants to do is be near you.

You stir awake as Jason walks into your bedroom. You can see the shiny, reflective red of the helmet coming from the hallway. A sweet and tired smile tugs at your lips because he’s home. You never really sleep well when he’s out.

“Sorry, baby, didn’t mean to wake you.” Jason mutters as he takes the helmet off.

“‘S okay.” You mumble, watching him strip the rest of the suit off. “Come to bed.” You stretch out an arm as you watch Jason smile.

It's something warm and tender pulling at the corners of his lips as he glances to the floor and then back to you. A twisting and pulling, gnaws at the bottom of his stomach and all he wants is you.

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” Jason’s chuckle is low and quiet in the room as he comes into bed, sliding right up behind you as he wraps his arms tightly around you.

Jason presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder…and then another one….and another one. He can hear you hum in front of him. Jason’s arms are strong around you, keeping your back pinned to his chest as he places a kiss to your neck. Goosebumps erupt down your spine.

“I love you.” Jason’s voice is groveled and thick against your skin.

“I love you, too, Jay.” You whisper back and Jason swears he can hear the smile on your face a he places more lazy and gentle kisses along your shoulder and neck.

You remember the first time he told you. The thundering and banging of Jason’s heart had come to a stop like it hit a wall straight on going 100mph as the words left his throat. You swore it was as if it had pained him to actually say them. But it didn’t.

It didn’t hurt to say them, it just terrified him to let those words exist anywhere outside of the dark and paranoid corners of his mind. But he said them anyway because you always told him so casually, effortlessly in such a way he was almost jealous of how effortless it was for you to say it. You said it often and softly, never even expecting him to be able to say it back but then he did because he does love you. He had always loved you and he needed you to know.

Since then, since he said those words and you gave him this wild and eager grin before catching his lips in a kiss, he says it freely now. The words fall from his lips as he’s never known any others. He tells you often, regularly, and lazily. It's become effortless for him, too.

“I love you.” Jason mutters again. “So much.” He keeps pressing kisses over your shoulders. “Ya know that, right?” Jason asks.

“Of course, Jay.” You hum softly and tenderly. “I love you, too.” You say it again because you always say it back. You swear you’ll never let him forget that you do. You know how he thinks and sometimes, those dark and twisted voices are cruel to him

Jason’s grip over your middle loosens as he slides a hand under your tank top and you shudder against him. The pads of his fingers run along your stomach gently. He traces his way up until his fingers almost dance right under your breast, just close enough to tease you as his lips are still pressing kisses along your shoulders and neck.

“Can I make you feel good?” Jason’s voice is rough against your ear, his fingers tracing below your breasts so softly you almost miss the touch.

Warmth spreads to your pussy, contracting around nothing as he asks. It’s a realization of how empty you feel without him. You'd be lying if you said watching him strip from the Red Hood gear didn't always do something to you. The suit is fitted so well and it always makes his muscles look perfect. The black and red compliments his skin in such a way it always sends a fire bubbling through your stomach.

But it’s so early, and you have work a few hours.

“It’s four in the morning and I have to work in a few hours.” You want your voice to come out sterner than it does, a betrayal from your own vocal chords.

“Please.” Jason asks, this time the pads of his fingers trace along the top of your breast as you close your eyes, pushing your ass into him. Jason nearly growls into your neck. “Then we can sleep. Just wanna make you feel good, princess.” His words are absolutely drenched with lust as they hit your ears.

His cock is trapped in his boxes but you can feel his length, hot against your ass. Jason is careful with his fingers, nimble and gentle over your breast, nearly just hovering. He thinks of every way he can make you feel good, completely ruin you right here and right now. He’s almost desperate to hear you moaning out his name in a way that always gets his cock twitching and pulsing.

You hum softly, running over just how much sleep you can get. It’ll never be enough but your mind starts swimming as Jason bucks his hips against you. Your pussy throbs and aches, the tiredness slowly fading away from your mind. He always knows how to get you to unravel, though it’s rarely much effort on his part.

“If I’m late again, I’m blaming you.” You mumble.

You can feel the rumble of Jason’s chest as he chuckles. “That’s fine.” Jason peels himself away from your back and you groan at the sudden cold that rushes over you.

Jason pulls the blanket back before he turns you onto your back as you let out a squeal. His chuckle reverberates around the room as he slides down to position himself between your legs.

Hunger grows in the pit of your stomach as Jason presses soft and gentle kisses along your knee, pulling your legs apart. His mouth moves down your inner thigh and you squirm against him. You can feel him smirk against your skin as he pins your hips in place to keep you still.

"Thought you were tired?" Jason mocks, offering a quick glance your way and you can see the green of his eyes turn into something dark and eclectic, fueled with cockiness.

"Shut up." You mutter, hitting your head back against your pillow.

Jason kisses his way to your underwear. He presses a kiss to your cloth-covered clit and you have to bite back a moan as your hips buck desperately towards him. His chuckle is low and is followed by something you can only describe as a growl.

"Look at you, princess." His eyes flicker up towards you and you want to dive into his eyes and let yourself drown into him. "Soaking already."

You roll your eyes, hands coming to grip his hair in a desperate plea for him to shut up and get to work. It's a snicker this time that leaves his lips as he slides his thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down and off in a quick motion.

He goes back to placing kisses to the mound of your leaking pussy and then to your hips. The burning sensation grows in your stomach as your eyes start to burn. He knows what he's doing. He always knows what he's doing and he's good at it.

"Jay." You whine, looking down at him. His eyes meet yours and you think you might burst into flames. "C'mon, please."

A flash of a smirk comes to his lips as he slides a finger through your folds, just teasing your pussy, never taking his eyes off you. He watches your mouth part as a soft and sweet gasp leaves your lips. Your grip on his hair tightens and he loves to watch you fall apart, come completely unraveled with the smallest of touches.

“Think you’ve been waiting for me like this all night.” Jason coos, effortlessly teasing your leaking pussy. Jason breaks eye contact to kiss your swollen clit before sucking it into his mouth. A jolt close to lightning shoots through your body as you let out a raspy moan. “That right, baby?” He flashes that signature grin of cockiness your way and if he weren't so good at it, you might actually want to bite it off of his face.

Jason is cocky and it's not something you'd normally find attractive but there's something in the way he executes it that he sends you into a spin. Jason makes the cockiness attractive and he always backs it up. He's not cocky for no reason and he knows it.

He presses the flat of his long along your pussy, licking all the way up before sucking your clit back into his mouth. It twitches against his lips and your head starts to spin. Your hips buck up but Jason pins them back down, his hand strong and sterny against your flesh.

“Gonna make you feel so good, princess.” Jason coos against you, his breath against your sends a chill down your spine.

Jason moves his tongue, tracing letters against your clit, finding the rythym he knows will get you to unravel into a mess beneath him. He slots two fingers into your pussy, curling them up to the second knuckle until he feels the spongey patch inside of you.

Your head spins and you think gravity might cease to exist if he lets go of you. Your fingers grip and tug his hair, trying to bring him closer to you as the pressure fills your stomach.

Jason's ears collect every gasp and pretty moan that leaves your lips, his name sounding like the closest thing to heaven he's ever heard. His fingers soak up your juices until the pressure finally becomes too much as you're calling out his name in quick succession, your thighs trying to clamp around his head until Jason presses them back down into the mattress.

He works you through your orgasm and only comes up for air as you nearly beg him, your clit pulsing against his tongue.

"Told you I'd make you feel good, baby." Jason's toothy grin glistens in the low light.

You shake your head, your eyes lust-blown. But, he catches the hint of a grin pulling at your lips. "My turn." You gesture your hands lazily at him for him to up towards you.

Jason tilts his head back as a chuckle rumbles through his chest. His eyes lock with yours, his pupils blown but there's something soft in them. "I love you." Jason mutters, climbing his way back up to you.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x fem!reader #red hood x reader #red hood x y/n #red hood x fem!reader #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd smut #red hood fanfic #red hood fanfiction #red hood smut #titans fanfic #titans fanfiction #dc fanfic #alex answers #Anonymous #dc fanfiction #request

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official-time-loop-posts · 2 months

Note

pls tell me more about self imposed time loops

ok so i was planning to write about what i like about self-imposed time loops but it ended up being more like a story? so uhhhh sorry about that lmao

(long-ish post under the cut, check tags for tws.)

(it’s also in second person & i’m not sure if that needs / has a trigger tag? but with the other tws it felt necessary to bring it up)

How would your family & friends feel if they knew? What would they do with the knowledge that you keep throwing yourself into this loop over and over and over again?

You tried telling them about it before, while you were in the loop. They were horrified.

“Why would you do that to yourself?”

“You’re causing yourself more harm than good, you know.”

They didn’t understand.

You reset the loop minutes later.

They can’t know.

No one can.

Why would you do it? Because it’s worse if you don’t. You’ve seen what happens without the loop. You need the loop. Without it you’re left with tears. Without it you’re left with scars. Without it you’re dead.

Are you happier? Of course not. You still break down. You still feel the cut of the razor on your arms.

But you can just reset.

No one will know.

it’s a lie

you’re just going to hurt yourself more

please stop this

Your friend lost their dog.

No they didn’t, their dog’s been at their house all day.

You got in a car crash.

No you didn’t, you took a different route than usual.

You’re bleeding out.

No you’re n-

What?

No. You’re not.

Why won’t it work?

Why can’t you reset?

No. You’re. Not.

you are

you couldn’t reset this time

you couldn’t reset before

you knew that, didn’t you?

that it was all a lie?

they’ll miss you.

we’ll miss you.

i’m sorry.

#tw self harm #tw suicide #tw unreality #(uhhh i didn’t mean for it to get that dark i swear)#(this ended up being less “things i like about self-imposed time loops!”)#(and more “making this Random Guy incredibly depressed”)#(so uh. sorry if that’s not what you were hoping for?)#(and before anyone asks: we’re doing fine)#(don’t worry about us too much :)#not a time loop post #asks

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vodika-vibes · 2 months

Text

Tomorrow Will Be Better

Summary: When his cyare has a bad day, Fives does everything in his power to make her evening better.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x F!Reader

Word Count: 760

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I wrote this in about 30 minutes, so I'm sorry if it's really bad. But I needed to write, so ta-dah.

Fives knows his cyare. He knows her moods and her quirks and her habits. She has a routine, and she follows it without thinking about it.

Honestly, his presence throws off her routine more than anything else in the galaxy. Not that he minds. He takes pride in being the one thing that can encourage his cyare to divert from her normal schedule.

But he also knows that he has to give her fair warning in advance.

So, when he sent an excited series of comms to his cyare, telling her about a new restaurant that his brothers told him about and how they were raving about it, and how he was definitely bringing her there tonight, he expected an enthusiastic reply.

Instead, he gets a half-hearted response. Half-hearted even by texting standards.

And he’s immediately concerned.

Fives toys with the idea of texting her again, of asking her what’s wrong and what he can do to help, but he has a feeling that his prodding isn’t going to help at all.

So, instead, he decides to scrap all of his plans.

Honestly, the restaurant can wait, his cyare can’t.

So instead of relaxing, like he normally does when he’s home for the first time in ages, instead he darts around the apartment. He can’t make it spotless, and he’s sure that his cyare wouldn’t want him to make the house spotless, but he does give the kitchen and bathroom a quick scrub, and he very quickly starts the laundry and vacuums the living room, before he sets about preparing everything she might need for a relaxing evening.

Her favorite pajamas are laid out on the bed. Her favorite dinner from her favorite restaurant is quickly ordered and paid for. He lights her favorite candles, the soft scented ones that don’t trigger her migraines.

Fives considers drawing her a bath, but decides to wait to see what her mood is like before he does that.

He would hate to make her feel pressured, after all.

And when the door opens, Fives is quick to greet her in the hallway, with a broad smile and a gentle kiss to her forehead.

She looks tired, his poor cyare. Dark circles under her eyes, and her hair pulled in a messy tail rather than the neater tail she usually wore to work. There’s an air of, almost, defeat around her.

“Oh, cyare,” Fives brushes the back of his fingers against her cheek, “You had a bad day.” It’s not a question.

She laughs, and his heart clenches when it comes out as more of a sob, “It’s been a hard week.” She admits, “And…oh, I said we could go to-...just let me change and we can head out.”

Fives lightly cups her face and kisses her cheek and then the other cheek, before ghosting his lips against hers, “Food has already been taken care of. I ordered your favorite.”

“You…you did? But you wanted to go to this new place-”

“The restaurant will still be there the next time you feel like going out. It’s not going to vanish into smoke,” His voice is light and teasing, “But I’m worried that you might vanish into smoke if I don’t help you get some rest.”

She sighs, soft and so very heavy, and then leans against his chest, “What did I do to deserve someone as amazing as you?”

“Hm…well, you tripped over my brother, and I caught you. So I suppose you could say that you literally fell for me.” Fives replies with a grin.

“...that’s awful.”

“You love me for my bad jokes.” Fives reminds her with a smothered laugh, “Come on, angelfish.” He kisses the top of her head, “I put your pajamas out and I lit your favorite candles.”

“You’re wonderful,” She says through a sigh.

“I am pretty amazing.” Fives agrees, “Now, come on. Let’s get you settled, and you can tell me all about your rotten week while I cuddle you. And then we can watch some trash tv together while you fall asleep.”

“I love you, Fives,” The words seem to slip from her lips without her permission, and Fives can’t help but grin. He already knew, of course, she’s told him that before, but it’s still new enough that it sends thrills through his entire body.

“I love you too, cyare.” He presses one more light kiss to her lips, and then pulls away to guide her to the bedroom.

He’ll take care of her until she’s ready to take care of herself…and even after.

#star wars #tcw #arc trooper fives x reader #fives x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic

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cap-winter-barnes · 9 months

Text

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader - Don’t Leave Me Alone

Warnings: Brief/Vague mentions of childhood & teenage abuse. Y/N has a panic attack due to physical touch.

Someone requested this piece but I lost their @ so apologies for not tagging you when I said I would - hope this is okay for my first Spencer fic.

You’ve been a member of the BAU team for over a year and yet you’re still not ready to open up to your colleagues about your past. Hotch had made it clear to the team that you were not one for physical contact, handshakes and hugs were off the cards. Even a hand on your shoulder is enough to set you off in a panic. Your childhood into your teen years were a painful experience that has left you fearing human contact, even the slightest touch can trigger a panic attack, something you desperately try to avoid. Spencer respects your personal space, especially as he struggles to deal with people touching him too. But he can’t help but want to provide you with support to hold you when he can see that you’re struggling with your own mind or freaking out after a case.

The teams most recent case has you travelling to the humid climate of Florida. With the weather causing an unreal amount of heat and discomfort you reluctantly opted to wear a short-sleeved t-shirt rather than your usual long-sleeved blouse. It made the bullet-proof vest just that little bit more bearable. Yet you didn’t account for the local Sheriff to take it upon himself to grab your upper arm during an argument with one of his detectives. The detective in question had been making derogatory comments towards you, JJ & Emily the entire time you had been at the precinct and you had finally had enough. After calling you ‘sweetheart’ for what must have been the hundredth time, you needed to speak your mind.

“I’m not sure if you’re aware, Detective,” your words laced with venom. “But my name isn’t sweetheart, or honey, or darlin’. It’s Y/N.” Silence follows your outburst.

“Well, darlin’. Maybe if you dressed more respectably you’d be treated as such.” The smirk on his face irks you beyond reason, so much so, that you leap from your position on the desk across from him.

“What did you just say to me?” Reid, JJ & Hotch all close in to defend you but you raise your hand to stop them. “I’ve got this don’t worry.”

“Yeah, the little princess over here can handle herself.” This earns chuckles from the other detectives and officers around the room.

“Right, that’s enough!” The Sheriff storms through but with your back turned to him, you don’t realise that he’s reaching for you as you take a step back, getting into his bad books isn’t going to help the progression of the case. It’s too late for your team to step in as they realise what is about to happen just as his hand closes around your upper arm. On instinct you’re body reacts in the only way it knows - a panic attack. You try to pull away as his grip tightens trying to move you aside for a quiet conversation but that isn’t happening now.

“LET ME GO!” You repeat the phrase as loud as your voice will allow you. His touch instantly causes your mind to picture the violence you suffered in your younger years. Tears stream from your eyes as your panic intensifies. You can just about make out the voices of Reid & JJ as they try to comfort you and reassure you whilst Hotch is demanding you be let go. When the Sheriff finally releases you under the threats of Hotch, your can no longer hold yourself upright, on instinct, Spencer catches you as you fall.

“I’m so, so sorry Y/N, but we need to get you someone quiet. I’m so sorry.” Spencer cradles you in his arms as he half walks, half carries you to an empty filing room for some privacy.

“Spencer, I’m so sorry. I’m so-“

“Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for. This isn’t your fault.” As he settles you down he pulls his hands away to let you go, fingers outstretched like approaching a wounded animal. But you reach out, taking his hands in yours.

“Please, Spence.” Your words are breathless as you speak, begging him to stay, to touch you. To comfort you. “Stay with me?”

“Of course.” His grip on your hands tighten as he sits himself beside you. “I’ll always stay for you.” You respond with a tight smile, grateful for him not pressuring you to reveal anything from your past, grateful for the respect he shows for your personal space. Yet now, nothing comforts you more than the feeling of his thumb dancing across the back of your hands, calming you unintentionally. For once in your life, you feel comforted and relaxed by someone’s touch. Maybe it isn’t so bad after all, yet only time will tell. And maybe you can finally let Spencer into your heart that little bit more like you so desperately want to.

#spencer x reid #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x fem!reader #requests are open

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thelaughtercafe · 5 months

Text

Impactful Intervention

Tea Type: Half and Half (Fluff with Hurt/Comfort)

Potential Triggers: Eating disorder talk(anorexic leaning), and self-deprecation though it’s not super explicit in either case!

Pairing: Bakugou, Kirishima, Izuku, Ochaco, Mina, Denki and Shinsou/Reader (Can be read platonic or romantic)

Length: 2.1k+

Summary: You get reminded you’re not nearly as alone in your struggles as you like to think.

A/N: Sheridan here! This is super self-indulgent so I banged this out when struggling with the exact issue in the fic when I didn’t want to eat 😅 This is a continuous series with this as the first fic! Not much twording this is just pure hurt/comfort and fluff really, with some minor twords! I’m tagging it as a tlc: fic rather than a tword fic, but it will be tword series in 2 chapters, so I hope you all look forward to it!

“Why don’t you eat more often?”

The question was blunt and close enough to your ear that it tickled, making you flinch away from Todoroki with a squeak.

His question registered and you swallowed nervously under his perceptive gaze, shoving a fry in your mouth before faking as bright a smile as you could.

“I eat plenty! I just had a big breakfast.”

The familiar lie fell all too easily from your tongue.

Todoroki sat across from you with a reluctant hum of acknowledgment along with Kirishima and then Bakugou, as Deku and Ocacho sat on either side of you.

The quiet now that had overtaken the table was uncomfortable and you were feeling jittery under several gazes.

“S-So anyway-

Deku spoke up before you could change the subject.

“You’ve said that to me before too; Todoroki is kinda right. Every time I offer you a snack you always say no.”

He was pouting and your smile widened nervously as you waved him off.

“You’re worrying too much! Really, I promise I’m eating enough. I wouldn’t be able to train as hard as I do otherwise right?”

Deku’s eyes were still worried but he nodded in agreement after a moment’s thought.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

Most eyes looking at you turned away after that and you breathed a sigh of relief, your smile losing some of its anxiety.

You didn’t expect to look up and meet Bakugo’s stalwart gaze. You nearly flinched in surprise but caught yourself; instead looking away quickly and rushing to shove a chicken nugget down your throat.

Given his eyes still hadn’t left you, you couldn’t very well throw out your tray. So, you crafted a hasty excuse, checking your phone and making a show as your eyes widened before you hopped up, grabbed your bag, and dashed off with a rushed.

“Sorry guys I totally forgot I have to return this book to the library today or it’ll be late!!”

Once out of the cafeteria you found you could breathe again; heart pounding a mile a minute. That was too close. Your friends didn’t need to share your burdens. They were your stupid hangups and deficiencies. No need to pile more on than they already definitely had.

You made your way back to your dorm and tried to relax as your stomach growled.

Later that day; burgundy eyes scanned the library’s sign-in book and narrowed as his fist met the wooden stand harshly.

-----

The next day you headed to class and it went as usual. You felt you could finally relax; joking easily with Deku, Denki and Mina like any other day. It seemed that yesterday’s heavy conversation had all but been forgotten.

Until the end of the school day.

You trailed after Bakugou as he dragged you by the wrist after him protesting weakly.

“B-Bakugou! I can walk you know! Just tell me where we’re going first!!”

The fiery blond was uncharacteristically silent and a chill went down your spine. What was causing him to act like this? Was everything okay?

You quickened your pace as best you could.

Bakugou shoved you in front of him into his dorm room and you typically would have demanded to know what was going on…but the worried eyes and the way all mumbled conversation stopped when you entered made it all too clear.

It had been too easy yesterday after all.

You turned without a second thought but Bakugou was already ahead of you, leaning too casually against the exit with his back and foot against the door and staring you down impassively.

You gritted your teeth but tried to keep your anxiety at bay.

“What the Hell is this?”

“Don’t get so cagey; we just want to talk."

You reluctantly turned your gaze from the door to Todoroki, ever the mediator.

Your smile was obviously forced, unlike yesterday.

"Little hard not to be when I get dragged halfway across the school and have the exit blocked like I’m a wild animal.”

Your voice was not shaking.

“We tried to talk to you yesterday but you just…brushed it off. We wanted to do it in a more intimate setting where you’d hopefully feel safer with fewer of us.”

Deku clarified, fidgeting nervously with his fingers as his gaze flicked between your eyes and his hands.

“We just wanna help.”

Your answer was instant.

“I don’t need help. Can someone please tell me what we’re doing here?”

A snort from behind you made you glance back and you tensed at the intensity in Bakugou’s expression, defensive, more so than you already were.

Kirishima must’ve sensed it too since he moved to stand and held his hands up placatingly.

“Hey man don’t-

But it was too late.

Bakugou was already closing in on you and your breath caught as he easily cornered you against the edge of his bed, tall frame towering over you.

When your eyes instinctively moved to look away from his he hissed and grabbed your chin, his touch gentle but firm.

"No. Look at me. I have one very simple question for you, nerd. And if you lie to me? Consider our friendship over. You got that?”

Your vision was blurring but you nodded shakily. Despite his tough exterior, you’d grown close to him. Were friends with both him and Deku respectively. So for him to threaten something so serious when you both know he’d follow through…needless to say you were petrified.

“Why did you lie about having a book to return yesterday? And I’ll save you one potential lie. I checked the sign in sheet after school yesterday. Think carefully before you answer.”

He grunted before releasing you, turning on his heel and returning to his place at the door where he continued staring you down.

You felt helpless. What else could you say? You’d been caught red handed.

“You…you really lied? But you hate lying!”

You smiled bitterly at Deku’s words, but nodded in agreement.

“You’re not wrong there. But I…”

You took a deep breath and moved to get comfortable on Bakugou’s bed, knowing you’d need to sit down for this. You were half facing Bakugou and Kirishima who was now at his side by the door and the others who, now that you somewhat had the guts to look, consisted of Deku, Todoroki, Kaminari, Uraraka and Ashido. You flinched a little as you noticed Shinsou in the corner, so quiet you would’ve missed him if he hadn’t been watching you so intensely.

That settled it for you, there really was no choice here.

You closed your eyes as you felt overwhelmed and jumped at the feeling of an arm wrapping around your shoulders, reluctantly opening your eyes and looking to see Ashido smiling cheerfully at you. Kaminari wasn’t far behind as he hopped up onto your other side and joined your makeshift hug.

You hadn’t even realized how much you’d been shaking until then and luckily their touch was grounding, helping you to breathe better and focus.

“Shit…okay. Um…”

Your eyes went to the floor and you hated that they were already stinging.

“I just…I d-don’t really like eating in front of people? That’s how it started I guess. I-

A deep exhale escaped your lips and your eyes jerked between your friends in worry.

"Oh God what if I trigger you guys? This is why I didn’t want to tell anyone I don’t want to burden-”

“Hey.”

Shinsou’s voice was gentle but clear and at it you instantly quieted, meeting his gaze in surprise.

“We’re all here because we want to be and we care about you. Every single one of us has noticed the signs. If we weren’t prepared for it; we wouldn’t be converging like this.”

As usual, his words were nothing but unblemished truth and you let out a shaky half laugh. Even when you were on the verge of a breakdown he could stop you from spiraling. At least some things hadn’t changed. Still, you nodded and got ready to continue.

“Okay.”

Deep breath.

“I’ve kinda slowly just…not wanted to eat really?”

Your voice was little more than a squeak before you rushed to continue.

“I mean!! I do eat sometimes! I snack now and again but I mainly have 1 meal a day and it’s highly unlikely I even finish that.”

You rolled your eyes skyward and looked at Bakugou’s ceiling finding it much easier to talk when you weren’t looking at anyone.

“I lied because…It’s not any of your problems. You’re dealing with so much already; who am I to pile on or complain ya know? Besides, it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s really not that bad.”

Your dismissive words finally triggered a roar that had Kaminari and Ashido both rushing back towards the main circle as Bakugou lunged.

“Not that bad!?!”

“Eep!”

You squeaked as he easily pinned you down while straddling your waist holding your wrists with one hand while gesturing wildly with the other as he ranted.

“Now you listen to me and you listen good! First of all; you can and damn well better come to us! We’re all here for you and you can bet your ass I’m sure we’re all going to help you overcome this. Something you left out but I’m sure you think; you’re not fat.”

Oh, look! Just like that, you’re crying.

Deku had puffed his cheeks up and he hopped up and bounced over to nod energetically at you.

“Kacchan is right! You’re really nimble! One of the fastest in class in fact!”

“And also one of the weakest.”

You thought your mumble would go unnoticed but Shinsou startled you by running his fingers through your hair and shaking his head, fondness in his gaze.

“Dummy. You’re one of the strongest people I know. You have an emotion-based Quirk and still manage to keep up with your hero friends. You’re a badass.”

Well, now you were blushing and crying. Gosh, you felt like a hot mess.

“I second that! And you’re always looking out for us when we have any issues! You bake the class sweets all the time, always listen attentively whenever any one of us has a bad day. Heck, you even tried to help Mineta learn how to talk to girls.”

Kirishima chuckled.

Uraraka giggled at that, making your blush darken.

“Which is extra cute considering how blushy and stammery you’d get around all the boys but especially Bakugou at first, remember?”

Ashido joined in with a laugh of her own.

“Ohmygosh that’s right!! Even with us girls, she was shy and hard to get to open up. She was still the class sweetheart even then though~”

You groaned, hiding your face in your arm.

“Don’t remind me. I couldn’t help it!! It was my first time being around attractive guys; I had no clue how to react!”

“Aw, you think I’m attractive?”

Bakugou smirked down at you and even as you were sure you were a tomato by now you stuck your tongue out at him playfully.

“Don’t let it go to your head hotshot~”

He snickered as Kaminari strode over to poke your cheek, grinning as you tried to bite his finger.

“Hey! Brat!”

He chuckled before rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“Anyway; you probably don’t know but you’re not alone with what you’re goin through. I dunno about the rest but I’ve struggled with eating stuff too. If you need me to remind you or someone just to talk to those who’ve been through it? My dorm room is always open.

Todoroki raised a hand at that, shy but supportive.

"Mine too.”

You found yourself misty-eyed but nodded sheepishly.

“I… I’m willing to try, then. If you guys don’t mind helping and it’s not a pain-wah!”

You jerked as Bakugou squeezed your side to cut you off with a grumble despite the quickly growing smirk on his face.

“Stop. Putting. Yourself. Down. In fact…”

An idea lit his eyes that already made you squirm as he turned to face the others.

“I say we tickle her anytime she says anything self-deprecating or when she apologizes for no reason. Sound fun?”

Your eyes widened. Bastard!! That was supposed to be a secret! He promised!

Seeing the look on your face he snickered.

“Consider this my payback for lying. Lucky you you’ll get to have 7 more lers to go to now~”

With that he pulled back, grin all the more wicked as he looked back at your apprehensive friends. Sensing what he was about to do, you whined.

“Baku don’t you fucking dare-”

But he was already speaking over you.

“Don’t look so nervous; she’d sooner die than admit it but she actually loves it.”

Well if you weren’t a tomato before…

As your friends all closed in with giddy grins quickly mirrored by you you couldn’t help but think how lucky you were to have such amazing friends.

…You were still gonna kill Bakugou for this later though.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #female reader #boku no hero academia fic #my hero academia fic #bakugou x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #todoroki x reader #denki x reader #ochaco x reader #shinsou x reader #mha x reader #bnha fluff #bnha x reader #kirishima x reader #mina x reader #tlc: fic #tlc: milk tea

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kneelingshadowsalome · 7 months

Note

Hi there! New follower here, and can I just say I LOVE how you write König? Like seriously, thank you SOOOOO much for not writing him like a soulless monster or something like I normally see when I look in the tags (I kid you not, I saw someone ask for a r@pist König fanfic not too long ago and it put me off him for a short while). Sure you write him crazy but you don't go that far. Thank you for that.

That being said, how would your interpretation of König handle a reader who has a history like that? Like maybe they were abused in that way as a child or a teen? They're in therapy of course and handle the trauma as best they can but they have that sort of fear of intimacy still, if that makes sense? Maybe they're still battling guilt/self blame, and feel like he could do better with someone who isn't "damaged goods" or something?

Sorry if it's bothersome but I'm very curious! Thank you, and I really hope you have a wonderful day! 💙🌹

Hey dear anon, welcome and thank you so much! 🩷💕

I can understand wanting to read dubcon and noncon at times, it’s all good and hey, to each their own! I can also understand the need to steer clear from these kind of fics (please, always take care of yourself and don’t expose yourself to content you don't vibe with 🩷) and I’m so glad to hear you like the way I write for König. I definitely love monsters with souls! Perhaps it tells something that everytime I *really try* to write a dark fic, I usually get comments like “weee so fluffy and cute!” :D Like did we win…?

As to your question on how would König handle reader with background of abuse:

König is not the most nurturing, tactful man but upon hearing about your past, he’d get super caring and tender. He has this fantasy of being a saving/conquering hero so, yeah, you just became his damsel in distress. To him, you're both a strong survivor and a fragile victim, so you gain something of a saint status in his eyes.

And he would never ever think you’re damaged goods, no. To him, you’re the purest of angels whose soul and body has been ravaged. For this alone, he’ll go to war for you, against the whole world if need be.

Violence is his way to deal with life’s big problems, so he’d want to hunt down and kill the perpetrator if they’re still alive, no question about it. He’d be willing to commit a good old murder and risk going to prison because he couldn’t stand it that this human filth is walking around unpunished. That’s his first way of dealing with this thing: eliminate the threat, then come and comfort you.

So… If you don’t want him to do that (either because you don’t agree with him about the measure of punishment, or because you’re afraid he’ll get caught/will face a prison senctence because of it), you’d have to get super crafty with trying to conceal who this person is because König is going to find out who they are whether you want it or not. He’d have such a hard time respecting your boundaries in this because someone has to avenge you. He has contacts and he can and will use them to get to this fucker and end their life.

Homicide aside, he’ll get overprotective of you. Has to have you in his line of sight at all times to make sure you’re safe and happy and ok.

Sex might be a challenge because König has a high sex drive. He adores you and would want nothing more than to be with you – preferably inside you – 24/7. This is how he worships you, shows love & intimacy and releases both of your stress. If sex is off the table sometimes, König would try to show his love for you in other ways such as cuddling you like crazy or accompanying you to the shower etc.

Any issues with intimacy would trigger his anxiety and fear of abandonment, and he’d get even more obsessive and clingy. Not in a whiny, co-dependent way, but in a “Everything alright, Schatz?” repeated 5 times a day type of way. König would nod and look like he understands completely when you tell him that you have these issues, but then proceeds to cuddle and smother you later anyway :/

Somehow thinks it’s his dick that might be a threat so he would try and not to flail it around you unless you specifically ask for it. Respects your boundaries on not having intercourse, but the other stuff, like squishing you against his chest every now and then or trying to please you with his hands or mouth are harder to negotiate.

Because he would try his all to give you mindblowing sex. He wants go give you good experiences, and gets a high out of making you cum multiple times. To him it’s like a hot bath, a three course meal and a year in therapy combined, to watch how you come undone. He's unusually gentle with his aftercare, and drowns you in praise when he holds you close.

Perhaps it’s a bit sick, but the fact that you both have suffered in your own ways makes you his one true love, sort of like a fated companion. In his mind, you’re soulmates who’ve gone through hell. He's also vehement in his belief that only he can love you whole again, only he can treat you right.

So the question then becomes, how do you survive an adoring, obsessive giant who’s made it his life’s purpose to make you happy? ❤️

#könig fluff #murder as love language

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fuckyeahfraxus · 7 months

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Finally, this is the official post for the seventh

F R A X U S D A Y!

Like previous years, Fraxus Day will be celebrated on November 5th!

We had thrown out a small notification post before but we are still sorry that this official post is released with such a delay! We still hope that everyone is looking forward to the day and wants to participate with different sorts of content <3

As usual there will not be a particular prompt for this day, as opposed to the ship week. You can use whatever theme or idea that comes to mind.

However, we do again invite you to pre-celebrate Fraxus Day with us on Halloween, October 31th! Feel free to tag us in any Halloween Fraxus content you create, and we will make sure to reblog it!

Of course, feel free to share Halloween Fraxus and Fraxus Day Fraxus on separate days. Or post a Halloween themed Fraxus Day entry. Or only post a Halloween edition! Everything is possible, we just wanna dedicate the day to this wonderful ship and celebrate.

Either way, you may use the #fraxusday tag for any entries you post on October 31st and/or November 5th, Halloween themed or not!

As usual we, the admins of fuckyeahfraxus, will be hosting this day Although there are no specific prompts, we do ask you to read the rules if you’re not familiar with them or need a reminder.

Everyone is allowed to participate and basically every sort of entry is allowed! Art, fanfic, edits, headcanons, playlists, aesthetics, … everything! Just make sure that it has to do with Fraxus and does not imply something else, something negative, other rivalled ships or trigger topics like non-consensual stuff. There’s also basic things we usually do not reblog on this blog due to certain reasons; basically anything that has to do with harmful stereotyping.

Please make sure to put either fraxusday or fraxus day in the first five tags of your entry! fraxus will suffice, too, if you forget to tag it otherwise but using the first two named tags will make it easier for us to find the entries for this day. Submitting your work to this blog will be perfectly alright as well if that’s how you’d rather want to participate.

Almost each kind of entry is allowed, just please make sure to avoid explicit nsfw content. If you want to submit something suggestive or bordering on nsfw, that’s fine.

Don’t worry about being late! Late entries are always welcome, no matter how late they may be.

Do not steal other people’s art or writing or whatever it may be! That won’t be accepted and that applies not only to this day but in general. This type of behavior won't be tolerated. The same goes for edited artwork, unless you have the explicit permission of the original author to do so.

That's it! Please do boost the hell out of this official post so all the people who may not have heard of this day or were not aware of the date and want to participate get the note! Thank you all so much for your continuous support, despite real life struggles we will try our best not to let this blog die. Love y'all and our dms are always open.

Stay safe and much love, your fuckyeahfraxus team! <3

credit for the art goes to the absolutely amazing @ccrispy who I commissioned for Fraxus Week in Summer for the prompt 'Blood and Wine'. please go support her if you can! 🥰

#fraxus #fairy tail #freed justine #laxus dreyar #freed x laxus #fraxus day #fraxusday #fraxus day 2023 #admin post #ft100yq #ft

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firefly--bright · 16 days

Text

carry me out.

jean kirstein x reader , modern a.u.

summary ; you've let your predetermined, statistical thoughts on being loved carry you out for a long time. maybe you realise that jean should be an exception.

warnings ; HUGE trigger warning for suicidal thoughts, especially in the beginning. overall very angsty, but slight comfort at the end. no pre-existing relationship, only the indications of one. underage (?) alcohol consumption (please be safe n responsible with alcohol!)

a/n ; finally wrote a fic after like a month lmao im so sorry. a) for being gone so long and not updating my other fics but also b) returning with another heavy one. no promises if this is me coming out of my haitus, though, i still have end-sem submissions to worry about. everything has been hell but hey atleast im alive! anyways, as always, enjoy! also if you ever need anyone to talk to, im always here. please know that. youre not alone!

taglist ; @holding-infinity-and-a-book , @mrsnobodynobody , @hopeless-anti-romantic , @jeanscremebrulee , @berrijam , @cherrypieyourface , @imgayandshesanime , @moonmalice , @kiernova , @potaho3frog , @xakilicious , @katestrophes (please feel free to skip this story, even if you are tagged, if it's too heavy for you!!)

huge thank you to @raazberry my absolute favouritest person for beta reading this :3

masterlist is in pinned post ✿ enter my taglist! ✿

You weren’t going to live past the next three years.

You knew this – it was written in your teary-eyed thirteen year old self’s note to a much older you, “if youre still the same after everything and you still feel like this all the time, then why keep trying? If youre not happy in somewhere outside of your head, then why keep living? Do you really want to live past 24?”

The letter may have been written against your better judgement, and you could still feel the cold of your marbled bathroom tiles and the too-bright florescent light above your head as you tried to stop your hand from shaking, but you lived by it. In all reality, your hopes were dwindling, and this misshapen version of you that sat infront of the mirror looked more like a smudged charcoal drawing instead of your face. You didn’t know how or why it was the way it was, but you had to live with this, live with the burnt and shaky outline of yourself thanks to the years you spent with your light still ablaze.

you sigh. Its all you know how to do.

The door knocks and you shift from your mirror to the source. Your heart skips a beat and everything lulls into a low hum.

“hey,” he says, with your name on his tongue as if he’s kept it there for years. “we were thinking about going out now that midterms are over. You wanna join?” he asks, his thumb pointing to the invisible invitation outside of your room.

You blink, humming the semblance of what you’d call love in your mind. “maybe. What’s in it for me?” you ask. A smile graces your face and it doesn’t feel that foreign.

He pretends to think, humming out the same tune that played in your head every waking moment, his voice a low and calm tide. “free food?”

You breathe out a laugh. This bit doesn’t feel like a play, it doesn’t feel like a script with big block letters and directions and your name written in all caps. It feels normal. It feels foreign.

“don’t tell sasha, though.” He says, pointing a finger at you with a loose fist.

“I make no promises.” You really don’t.

“well, then, you should."

Maybe you would.

Connie’s laughter would usually be described as an annoying 11 year old’s, but today, it offered you comfort like ice against a bruise, and marco would usually be described as a worried father, but his warmth was appreciated when he held the door open for all of you to walk in. sasha was already inside, chatting with her boyfriend who couldn’t be more happy to look at her with his chin resting on his palm and a soft smile on his face. Sasha’s animated voice could usually be described as the babbling of a child, but today it offered to be the noise that you craved. She was dressed well, with a bow tied gently into her hair and you wondered how you got this lucky to be half-present in the light of these fools.

Jean was always next to you, always to your left, always silently giving you his secretly undivided attention. Even as connie got another round of drinks for the table, even when sasha ate all the fries that were supposed to be shared, even when marco, ever the extrovert, went to mingle with friends from his other classes, even as niccolo held sasha’s hair back when she entered an unsaid drinking competition with Mikasa and her unshaken record, he was there. To your left, looking at his right with a warmth and gentleness that would’ve shaken you had you noticed it.

There was chatter. There was always noise, something to occupy your mind, as you played with the condensation on your glass, silently waiting for connie to shout out another drink that he presumed youd enjoy. To his credit, you did enjoy them, but maybe downing them in one go wasn’t the best idea if you truly wanted to savour them, and if the attention you were getting from your left wasn’t so alert, you’d have left this bar a long time ago.

And this didn’t mean any harm to your friends. Of course not, they couldn’t help but be the sun. they couldn’t help being this all consuming light that couldn’t stop itself from touching and spilling onto any surface it could find. Truly, you loved them for it like how you loved the sun – from a distance, looking at it through squinted eyes because you were afraid of it’s beauty. No, it wouldn’t be their fault that you were too much of a coward to feel what they offered to everyone without the hesitation you had.

“this is the part where you tell me what’s on your mind.” Jean says from beside you, memorizing a script you weren't aware of. theres a chord in your mind that rings out as he does, beginning an unfinished song that would continue on for as long as you lived.

You hum. It gets lost with the increasing sound of the song in your head and around you. shaking your head, you say something that’s unconvincing to your already deaf ears. “nothing,”

His palms slide over your wrist, covering up the embarrassment your pulse brings to yourself with a softness that doesn’t fail to shake you this time, noticing the way he looks around the place youre in – a bar? Youre not sure. You haven’t been sure where you ever were – and stops as he finds one. He gives you a once-over and leads you to the haven he’s scanned around for. he refuses to remove his hand from your wrist and some small or large or whatever-is-remaining part of you wants him to keep it there until your body evolves to accommodate his skin on yours.

You wonder how he feels. For the first time in a while, you wonder what it feels like to live outside of your head, outside of your own whatever-is-remaining body, outside of the stripped bare bones with pieces of meat stuck on it after charred teeth having gorged upon it night and day for twenty years. Does he see you that way? Could he stand to see the state you had yourself in, an unholy and unceremonious shrine to yourself, with nothing but the most minutest proof of your existence instead of everything you’d always wanted to become? Or does he see you as something that remains standing despite it? Would he see you as just that- the proof of the proof?

“there we go. No more noise.” He says decidedly and you’d agree a thousand times over. The chord he plays still reverbs through the empty nest of your chest and you agree – its as present as the noise of silence.

You hum again. You have no words to say. He doesn’t let go of your wrist and you pretend not to notice, just as he does. His fingers are calloused and weathered under unsaid conditions but you hope its because of love. It’s a large word to say, to think and to feel but you’ve long since forgone the formalities of having to speak. In your head, all words mean the same and nothing at the same time.

“saw a cat today.” He says. In your head, you agree.

This means something. Each word he says has its own representation, its own grip and handle on you instead of it all being everything.

You lean against something solid. Only then do you realise youre at a rooftop – climbing the stairs wasn’t registered when you spent your time staring at your beloved’s back, observing how his shirt moved over his skin with every consequential step, every meaningful breath. You became even more blind to the bodies of people that were a thousand times more present than you.

Only then do you realise the brightness of the city lights under you. the building you were on didn’t look all that tall, but it seemed taller than the rest. There were people there, being alive, breathing their own air and their own sound as yours made none. You let jean’s breathing be enough for the two of you until you’d find the dormant strength in yourself to find your own.

“brown and ginger fur. It was this tiny-“ he says. You throw him a glance because youre afraid looking at him for more than that would leave you with no choice but to keep burning, and his hands cup an invisible ball-like shape. You smile, looking back at the distant windows that carry their hopes into the night sky. “If I see it again, im gonna name it cookie.” He says.

Your smile grows gentler under the curtain of your fingers that are curled up against your lips, your chin on your palm. You wonder then, again, how he sees you. do you seem uninterested? You don’t mean to be, and he should know, but you don’t have the courage or the guts to let him know otherwise. Your words will get jumbled by the time you decide to regurgitate it, they’ll spill out of you in a blurring mess. You’ll end up having to say your name thrice to believe youre still here, if at all.

He's silent. His shoulder brushes against yours and you feel this like a script of a play – written in big block letters with his name signed over it, written in the brackets because its something that needs notice.

HES BRUSHING YOUR SHOULDERS LIKE HE ALWAYS IS, and youre an idiot because you think it makes you yourself. In a bracket, its specified with your name on top in big block letters – HE SEES YOU.

When you turn your head to that god-awful, all consuming left side again, he does. He sees you and you decide that now is a good time to return back to the whatever-is-remaining body again. Your bones shake with the song that keeps playing when he’s around and maybe the hopefulness of the open window lights of the city before and after you carries your hopefulness with it.

Maybe the light that his eyes reflect can carry out your silent grief with him. Maybe the burden you hold over yourself for so long – the one that you’ve gnawed and scratched and kneeled and digested over – maybe this all consuming shake in your body could use some pre-written and pre-determined accompaniment.

He doesn’t say anything. Whatever his script is, he doesn’t follow it. Maybe its his silence that speaks more about you than you could fathom for yourself. He carries out your grief and takes it for what it is – the proof of all of your love. He carries it out in his eyes, in his hand that is calloused because of words he hesitates to speak and carries in his fist, hidden behind his back. Only now, hes thankful for this silence. You understand it better than anyone, he thinks.

The big block letters in all caps overweigh the desperate letter you wrote to yourself when you were thirteen. He shift beside you, HIS ARM IS AROUND YOUR SHOULDERS AND HE’S HUGGING YOU NOW and youre a little hopeful now. Youre a little hopeful that your longing has a partner. That your teeth can still be capable of letting go. That your tongue is capable of saying “thank you,” muttered against the warmth of his chest and his too-weak left side that carries his heart flutters against itself and he’s glad for how weak his left side is. He’s glad he feels your words ten times over because of it.

Whatever this script is, whatever dialogues are written and edited and predetermined are either being fulfilled or being gone against. You don’t care. You have the time to read it later. You have the choice to never read it ever again.

He holds you. your words don’t muffle because he hears you.

He hears you, and this is not a compulsion. Its not written in the script, no, loving you has always meant breaking the rules, loving you has always meant going against the forces of the nature that shaped you. jean didn’t seem to care much for rules, anyway.

#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirschstein x reader #aot #jean kirstein x you #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #jean kirschtein #marco bodt #sasha braus #connie springer

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miguelswifey04 · 10 months

Note

Hii!! I live ur fiction sm and I was wondering if we could have a Miguel x Fem Reader who is Badass like him and usually cool and collected and maybe sometimes quiet and shy? But when she is pissed she is really scary like one day on a mission she full on pulls a miguel and miles situation (NOT CRAWLING ON ALL FOURS THO LMAO)

And she starts fighting ruthlessly and miguel is super proud but kinda scared bc he's worried she is gonna kill someone. Ty for ur time hope this isn't too much! ❤

it’s not too much, don’t worry my love <33 love this idea a lot :)

miguel o’hara x badass fem! spider! reader

miguel always admired your calm and collected nature. your ability to remain level-headed during missions was something he truly respected. but there was another side to you that he had witnessed only a few times—a side that unleashed a fierce and ruthless fighter.

one day, as the two of you embarked on a mission together, something triggered you, igniting a fire within. your usually reserved demeanor transformed, and miguel couldn't help but be in awe of the intensity emanating from you.

as you fought, your movements became fluid, each strike precise and calculated. your eyes blazed with a raw determination, and the once calm and collected facade was shattered. you unleashed your full power, not holding back an ounce of your strength.

miguel watched with a mix of awe and concern. he had never seen you so ferocious, so unyielding. your actions mirrored his own, the spirit of a true fighter coursing through your veins. as your blows landed with deadly accuracy, miguel couldn't help but feel a twinge of worry. while he was proud of your strength, a part of him feared the potential consequences of your ruthlessness.

the battle raged on, and with each passing moment, the intensity grew. miguel could see the fear in the eyes of your opponents, a primal realization that they were facing a force far greater than they had anticipated. but amidst that fear, there was also a glimmer of admiration for your power.

finally, the chaos subsided, and you stood amidst the defeated enemies, your chest heaving with exertion. miguel approached you cautiously, his eyes reflecting a mixture of pride and trepidation. “wow…," he said, his voice laced with a mixture of awe and concern. "that was…intense. you were incredible out there. but i have to admit, i’m a little worried about the level of ferocity you displayed. you seemed ready to go all the way."

you took a deep breath, your gaze fixated on the ground. "i’m sorry, miguel. i just…i couldn't contain myself. something inside of me snapped," you admitted, your voice tinged with a hint of regret. miguel placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding you. "i understand. we all have those moments. but remember, there's a line we shouldn't cross. we fight to protect, not to cause unnecessary harm."

you nodded, appreciating his words of wisdom. "you’re right, miguel. i’ll be more mindful next time. it’s just that sometimes, the rage inside me becomes overwhelming. i need to learn to control it better." he smiled gently, his love for you evident in his eyes. "we’ll work on it together. i know you have incredible strength, and i believe in your ability to channel it for the greater good. just remember, you don't have to fight alone. we’re a team, and we'll face any challenge together, no matter what."

with that, miguel pulled you into a warm embrace, reaffirming the unbreakable bond between you. as you held each other, you found solace in the fact that even in moments of darkness and rage, love and support would always guide you back to the path of balance and compassion.

tags 🏷️!! @kairiscorner @astro1bloom @obi-mom-kenobi @emiemiemiii @sabcandoit @meeom

#spiderman atsv #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel o'hara #atsv x reader #🌱 lin writes #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x y/n #spider person #lin’s asks #♡´･ᴗ･`♡ lin answers #miguel o’hara x female reader #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel imagine #i need miguel

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months

Text

Three for One 3

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: Let's go!

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Two days before Christmas. The store is left in tatters. Shelves strewn with sparse lefftovers and aisles hastily paced by those who left their shopping a bit too late. The frantic shoppers searching for a diamond among the sand grains of untouched product.

You work at arranging the remnants of the season’s beauty advent calendars on a table draped in a bright red cloth. There’s a large tag in a metal stand that marks them as ten percent off. On the other side of the holidays, they will drop to a full eighty percent off. You always believed giftcards were a better prize, not that you got many gifts.

That year, Luanne gave you a new journal and a specialty hot chocolate bomb in the department’s secret santa. You go Michelle and gifted her a copy of your favourite novel and some nail polishes. That is the extent of your shopping and gift exchanges. Except for your puppy, Ernie, who will get a bone and one of those special gourmet dog meals.

You finish your arrangement and step back, admiring your work. It’s close to close and so close to the end of the race that the shop isn’t as busy as usual. The only customers you do see are in a rush and horribly disappointed when that very specific thing isn’t in stock.

“Excuse me,” you’re drawn around the deep voice. A man strolls up the center aisle of the beauty section, the tails of his coat flicking behind him, “hi,” he uses your name as he approaches, “I’m so sorry to bother you again but can you point me to, erm,” he looks down at his phone, “a ring light?”

You hesitate. He seems to know you and you admit, he looks familiar. You’re at that point where the faces all blur together. Your one innate flaw is that you really don’t have a good memory for that, bt you definitely recognise his voice.

“Hello, sir,” you fall short of his name. You want to say Alan but you also don’t want to be wrong. “The ring lights are actually with the cellphone.” You gesture back at electronics, “I know it makes more sense to put them with cameras.”

“Ah, oh, thanks,” he nods but doesn’t move to find his quarry, he lowers his phone, “how’s your holiday going? Thing’s slowing down,” he looks around and you can’t help but do the same.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, most people are all done,” you shrug.

“Ha, wish I could say the same,” he sighs, “I thought we were done but the wife just sent me on a wild goose chase.”

“Hm, oh, well, I’m not very busy, did you need help finding anything else?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, my manager’s done for the day so doesn’t really matter if I leave my zone,” you say, “kinda boring around here.”

“You’re too sweet,” he smiles, his blue eyes deep and swirling, “and that sweater is adorable.”

You look down at your dark blue sweater with the white crochet peter pan collar. You wiggle your shoulders and grin back at him, thanking him. You know he bought some perfume for his wife but you’re still blanking on his name.

“Here’s my list,” he tilts his phone towards you and looks down, shifting closer to you as he shows you a text bubble.

“Oh my, right. I’m not sure we’ll have everything,” you teethe your lip as you go through the items, “but we’ll see.”

A message pops up over the top and you try not to read, putting your head up as you try to act like you didn’t see it. It’s not that you meant to decipher the words but your brain quickly skimmed that ‘tomorrow night?’ Not much but just feels a bit personal.

“Alright, we’ll go to electronics first, then work our way forward,” you suggest.

“Good idea,” he agrees.

You set off and he follows at just a step. You have to remember to slow down as often you’re so determined you find yourself leaving your customers far behind you. You bring him to the mobile accessories and point to the ring lights.

He considers them and rubs his chin. He points between two; “what’s the difference?”

“Oh, this one comes with a tripod extension and this one is a full kit with a mic,” you point from one to the other.

“What do you think is better for, uh, streaming?” He sounds unsure of that last word.

“I think that kit would have more to it, especially if whoever it’s for is just starting out. But I’m don’t know too much about these things.”

“I’ll take the kit,” he scoops it off the shelf, “the kid can never have enough.”

“Oh? You have kids?”

“One,” he sounds less than excited, “teenager now so he really can’t stand me.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, no, it’s not your fault,” he forces away the shadow across his features, “you know how they can be. What about you? You going to see your parents? Spending the day with someone special?”

“Um, just Ernie,” you answer, “my puppy.”

“Cute,” he remarks, “are you guys open tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, yeah, ‘til five,” you try to remember the next thing on his list.

He seems less concerned with the items than before, instead turn to examine a pop socket, “you have to work on Christmas Eve?”

“Yeah, closing, but I don’t mind.”

“What’s this?” He holds up a pop socket.

“It goes on your phone,” you pull out your phone and show him your daisy one, “see?” You hook your fingers around it, “it’s a grip to help you hold on.”

“Ah, makes sense,” he turns the thin package over, “kid’s always breaking his screen…”

You wait patiently as he makes up the mind to add the grip to his haul.

“What’s next?” You prompt as gently as you can.

“Oh, uh,” he looks at his phone, “video games…” he squints, “V-bucks?”

“Ah, yes, that would be a gift card,” you say, “I can show you the rack.”

He lets you lead him to the large rack of subscription cards. You point out the various currency amounts available and he rubs his brow. His forehead lines as you see the stress needling in his cheek. He’s struck with the late shopper syndrome. He’s start to feel the crush of time.

“So, just your dog?” He wonders as he picks up a $75 card.

“Yeah,” you answer softly.

“No boyfriend? Siblings?”

“Just me,” you assure him, “I don’t mind. I get to choose the dessert!”

He chuckles, “that’s a good way to look at it. Did you buy yourself something special?”

“Not really, I’ve been saving for a vacation so I put most of my overtime into that,” you explain. “You having a big dinner?”

“Last minute change, wife’s parents want to host. Had to figure out travel plans.” He looks at the giftcards again and your eyes fall to the large back curled up in his arm and the card and phone grip balanced between his fingers. He slides free a Netflix card and reads the fine print.

“Do you want a basket, sir?” You offer.

“Oh, well, sure,” he accepts as he looks down, “that’s very considerate.”

“Don’t want you to drop anything,” you smile and turn on your heel.

You go to the stack of rolling baskets beside the electronics desk. Tyler doesn’t acknowledge you as he sorts through game shells to put back on the shelf. You pull the basket behind you, rattling on its wheels as you approach the shopper by the gift cards.

“Here,” you veer it around towards him.

He bends to lower the ringlight inside and drops the smaller items into next to it; he adds the Netflix subscription along with it and holds onto the Kindle card in his hand.

“You got any of these around?” He holds up the card, “the reader?”

“Hmm, we should,” you rub your neck, “I suppose if we didn’t, you can get a tablet and download the app.”

“I guess,” he nods, “can you check?”

“Of course, sir.”

You turn away and call over your headset. Regan tells you there’s a kindle up in return they can sell. You ask them to put it aside.

“There’s one left at checkout. They’re going to have it waiting for you,” you announce proudly.

“That’s great. You like to read?” He asks.

“Oh, sure, my one vice is my book addiction,” you giggle, “how about you?”

“Well, I don’t get much of a chance with work. I’m usually burnt out from all the legal documents,” he drones grimly, “then the kid has extracurriculars or there’s a PTA meeting or the wife needs something done.”

“Sounds busy,” you say empathetically, “I hope you get some time to relax this holiday.”

“Me too,” he agrees. “I almost envy you. I’m sure your dog’s good company.”

“He’s so sweet,” you can’t help but beam at the mention of your boy.

“Big cuddler?” He asks.

“Uh, yeah,” the question is a bit unexpected, “you like dogs?”

“Never really had one. Don’t need the extra work,” he says, “but I don’t mind them.”

“That’s fair. He can be a bit needy.”

He flinches and looks down at his hand. His screen flashes and he gives an apologetic look as he raises his palm, “I’m so sorry. I need to take this.”

“Take your time, sir, I’ll wander,” you point over your shoulder with your thumb.

He mouths a thanks before he answers, “Barber.”

You back up and turn to distract yourself with the shelf of controllers and switch cases. His deep voice carries but you focus on the Sinatra carol playing overhead to drown him out. Still you can’t help but catch a few words.

“Five, yeah…no, she won’t…it’s fine…” He’s quiet for a moment before he raises his voice, “figure it out.”

His stern tone sends a chill through you. It’s a sharp contrast to his previously friendly demeanour. Well, he mentioned he’s a lawyer, you assume he has a lawyer voice, akin to your customer service one.

“Sorry,” he comes back to you, “my wife…” he takes a breath, “you don’t happen to sell wine here?”

You smile. The way he answered, it didn’t sound very affectionate but maybe he hadn’t expected his wife.

“No, sorry, sir.”

“Kidding,” he chuckles, “well, I guess I should get my butt in gear,” he flicks through his phone, “um, I assume toiletries? Face masks?”

“Oh, that’s near me,” you point back towards beauty, “there’s a special for the sheet masks.”

“Great,” he grabs the extended handle of the basket, “thanks so much for this. I’m so lost.”

“That’s fine,” you go ahead of him, “it’s the job.”

🎀

You groan as you put the last empty bin in the stack. You stand and rub your shoulders, traps sore from all the lifting and moving. The night crew will set up for the day after Christmas but in the last hour of work, you and the few others in the store scrambled to get the old displays torn down.

Luanne walks with you to the employee break room. She’s in more of a hurry as she has her three children waiting for her at their grandparents. She goes ahead of you and punches out as you wait and stretch out your arms.

“Have a good Christmas,” she says breathily as she opens her locker and pulls out her purse and jacket, folding the latter over her arm, “I’ll see you after. You’re opening, right?”

“Sure thing,” you say as you punch in your employee number. “Merry Christmas.”

“Give Ernie some pets for me,” she trills as she goes to the door. “Thanks again. You saved my ass today.”

“No problem, “ you shake your head, “Christmas Eve brings out the best.”

“Does it ever. Bye, sweetie,” she waves over her shoulder as he sweeps through the door.

You go to your locket and take out your fluffy pink sherpa coat and purse. You loop your scarf around your neck and slip your earmuffs around your head. You sit to pull on your boots and stand with an ache in your calves. You feel the fatigue finally setting in. It’s not over yet; one day off and you’re right back to the furor.

You yawn as you leave the breakroom and drag your feet across the store. You take out your phone as you pop your earbuds in and choose your holiday mix. You wave goodbye to a few other stragglers and go out the front door, Spencer locking it behind you.

It’s bitterly cold out. You’re surprised by the fresh fall of snow swirling in the air. It gives an extra sparkle to the time of year.

You scroll through your phone. The buses are on holiday hours already. The next one is in an hour. Great. You can just walk, at least until you get to the next stop. More buses stop there and you can get at least ten minutes within your building.

You trod along, kicking through the powder of snow as headlights gleam ahead of you. You walk along the narrow walk beside the hotel on the other side of the intersection and a pair of flashing tail lights blink ahead of you. A dark figure stands beside the white SUV but you can’t make out much more than their silhouette.

You keep going, peeking up curiously as you near. The boot of the car pops up and the stranded driver searches. As you pass, you trip over an unseen shape, the metal clank painfully against your toe. You look down at the small foot jack.

“Oh, shoot, sorry,” the man stands straight and turns to you, “I didn’t see you coming. I was just grabbing the iron–”

“That’s okay,” you pick out your earbuds, “I wasn’t looking.”

“Wait,” he stops short and points a gloved finger in your direction, “it’s you. You work at the store just down the way, right?”

You know the man. He’s the one who was in the store just yesterday. There’s a flutter in your chest at the coincidence of your encounter. It happens, especially in the shopping district. Half the city at least passes through her during the holidays.

“Yeah, uh, that’s me. You finish your shopping?”

“Just about,” he tuts and shakes his head, “blew a tire. So, happy holidays to me.”

“I’m so sorry,” you look down at the snowy walk.

“Mhmm,” he grumbles, “all this snow, I can’t get the jack to work either.”

“Dang, unfortunately, I’m not help. I don’t know much about cars.”

“That’s fine, I called roadside assistance but they’re taking their damn time,” he checks his watch.

“Oh…” you utter.

“Don’t let me rain on your holiday, honey,” he says, “your toe okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” you look down.

“Wait, are you walking home?” He asks.

You nod.

“Wish I could offer you a ride. This weather’s only getting worse,” he bemoans. He slips his hand into his jacket and pulls out his phone, “they should be here shortly so if–”

A set of headlights pull onto the apron and roll towards you. You look over as the man beside you does the same. You stand, somewhat dumbfounded at the unexpected run-in.

“That’s them,” he declares, “hey, guys.”

He waves as the white van pulls up. You were expecting a tow truck. Oh, well. Not your problem.

“Great, I guess I should get going,” you excuse yourself, “have a happy holi–”

As you step back, your heel catches on something. You don’t realise until your plummeting onto your ass that the man stuck his leg out behind you. You hit the ground with an oomph, barely missing the metal jack half-buried in the snow.

You hear the van door sliding open and a clatter of heavy treads. You can barely catch your breath as the world moves fast around you. The man bends over you as another rushes over, grabbing you off the ground as the two vehicles block out the street from view.

“Be nice,” the first man warns as your arms are seized. “Don’t hurt her.”

You suck in a deep breath. What is happening? You go to let out the shriek as you’re struck by the situation. This can’t be real but you’re being half-carried towards an open vehicle. A hand comes up and stifles your scream, smothering you as you’re yanked harshly forward.

“Careful,” the man girds again.

“Shut the fuck up,” the other grits and pulls you away from the other, spinning you around as he hooks an arm around your neck and covers your mouth, forcing you towards the van. He bends backwards, lifting your feet as you kick and squirm.

“Honey, calm down,” the friendly customer coaxes, “it’s okay.”

You don’t understand. Why are they doing this? Why you?

The man’s hand slips as you grab at his arms and your teeth come over the vee between thumb and index. You bite down and he yowls. Even through his leather glove, you give him a viscous pinch.

“Fuck!” He tosses you forward so your knees hit the side of the van and fall half-inside.

“Hurry the fuck up,” another voice calls from inside the van.

“Trying,” the second man snarls as you stand and let out a shrill note, only for a second before you’re caught from behind and muted again. This time the leather glove seals over your nose. “Fucking bitch.”

You’re lifted into the van, writhing and kicking as the door slides shut from the outside. You’re pinned on the floor in the seatless rear of the vehicle. You whimper as your eyes glisten with a sudden spring of tears.

That question rings in your head again; why you? You have no one to look for you, no one to care. It’s only you against them.

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miller-lookforthe-lite · 6 months

Text

steps (preview)

joel miller x f!reader

summary: Westward bound, and your steps are uncertain. Your hands shake, and it's hard to keep the food down. Joel thinks he might know why. (or, how accidents sometimes lead us to our fates.)

tags/warnings: unplanned/(unwanted?) pregnancy, thoughts and discussion of abortion, canon-typical violence, nightmares, hurt/comfort (u already know what it issss) - please heed the warnings, as these may be triggering to some! MDNI

a/n: broooo my first ever tlou fic AND first original post on this blog AND first x reader fic?! it's a big day so here's a sneak peek at steps, coming hopefully next week?!?!?

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

When you wake up, it’s dark out, but the road outside is wider than the back winding roads you’re accustomed to. The only light comes from the truck’s headlights and the moon shining up above.

“Where are we?” You murmur, stretching out the aching muscles of your back. Ellie seems to have joined you in slumber, slumped awkwardly against the door behind you.

Joel’s hand slides over the top of the steering wheel. “Nearby Kansas City,” he offers.

You become more clearly awake at this. “The QZ? Why do you wanna head so close to it?”

He rubs the steering wheel again, drawing from it some kind of power to speak. “Figure we stash the truck somewhere, enroll at the gate as refugees. Get what we need, get out.”

“What we need?” You’re still confused.

“A doctor,” he confesses. “It’s nearby and you need a doctor. So.”

You’re at a loss. You can’t keep up with the implications, with the unspoken, terrifying truth of the question he’s asking you, he’s been asking you. You open your mouth, but the sounds are weak to your own ears. “But — it’ll take too — Wyoming, we have to — and Ellie — and Tommy —”

“We’ll get to Wyoming,” he promises. “First we check on you.”

Something bubbles up in your chest and you shift in your seat, too afraid to ask but too afraid to not know. “Are you angry?” You venture, keeping your eyes on what little of the road you can see in front of you.

You can see him puff air through his lips from the corner of your vision. “I do generally like to know about things before they became an immediate issue, so next time —”

“No,” You say too quickly, and he stops, looking over at you. “I mean, were you mad about - you know, if I am” — you choke on your own spit, can’t bring yourself to say the word - “If I am, are you angry with me?”

Your voice sounds too small to your own ears, this isn’t the You you know, but you don't remember how to be that girl anyways, don't remember how to survive without him. If he’s not with you, and if what he thinks is happening is happening, this could be it for you, this could be his final straw, too much baggage, not giving enough, not —

“You, what? Listen, no, I don’t -” He takes his foot off the gas. The truck slowly but surely rolls to a stop, so starkly contrasting the stop it made in the earlier hours of the day. He shifts the car to park, not even bothering to pull off the road like he usually does when you stop for the night. You can feel him looking at you but you can’t bring yourself to look back.

“I’m afraid,” he confesses to you like he worries the night sky will hear his secret. “I’m afraid and I’m sorry that I made you think I was angry. I’m not angry. You ain’t done nothin’ wrong. You understand? Nothin’."

You don't realize you’ve begun to cry until his arms are reaching over the center console to pull you into his lap. A mess of limbs and you find yourself between his solid frame and the steering wheel, his arms holding you like they do when you sleep, but this feels different, this feels tighter, this feels dangerously close to touching the reason you shake, the reason you burrow yourself into him at night.

“We’ll be alright,” he promises so fiercely it startles your eyes dry. “You’ll be alright. I promise.”

#joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #joel x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #tlou fic #tlou fanfic

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mylostloversbookmarks · 1 year

Note

thank you!! My request is: Joel x female reader. Age gap. They met after Joel and Ellie arrived in Jackson, they started to know each other, at first they kept it a bit like a secret but then, when things started to get more serious, they didn’t hide anymore. Things got so serious that after a while (not immediately, like a year or two) Joel asked reader to move in with him and Ellie.

Ellie loves reader and she’s more than happy that Joel found his special someone. Could you add a scene where reader is with Ellie one afternoon and they see Joel with a woman, acting really intimate, which connects to reader’s thoughts about Joel being a bit weird the previous days. She thinks he’s cheating on her, also because the woman is really close and intimate to Joel in that situation.

She wants to leave before he sees her but Joel notices her presence, tries to talk to her but doesn’t deny the accusations at first, (so a lot of angst!!!) which makes reader think she lost the love of her life.

They don’t talk for a few days and try to ignore each other when possible, despite living together. Ellie is sad and suffers from this situation. Joel loves reader too much to ruin things so he puts his pride aside and tries talking to her. They eventually talk it through, he was not cheating (choose whatever the alternative to that is!!) maybe a little fluff at the end or also something else? You choose!

also, if you have any rules or have triggers about something that I requested please let me know and change the story how you need to.

And I’m extremely sorry if this request is too long and detailed.

thank you!!!

Guiding Lights - a Joel Miller one shot.

Characters - Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count - 8.7K

Warnings/Tags - 18+ only Minors dni. Typical canon language, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, Alcohol consumption, , Sus!Joel, Soft!Joel, insecurities, suspected cheating, no actual cheating, I think thats all?

A/N - @addictedtotlou This is my first ever fic request and I cannot thank you enough for sending it through, and also for dropping into my inbox to let me know it was you that requested it! I'm sorry it took so long but I hope you enjoy <3

Feedback, Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

You often find yourself reminiscing on the day you met Joel and Ellie, it feels like forever ago now, though it has only really been a few years.

The winters in Wyoming were never kind, but that year, Mother Nature had been particularly cruel. Strong winds and vicious snow blizzards reduced visibility to almost nothing. You had heard those posted to the lookout stations talking over lunches and complaining about how bad the conditions were getting.

So in a bid to keep the good folks of Jackson safe, Tommy and Maria decided to double the number of patrols around the commune in an attempt to keep an eye on the horizon for any potential threats who could be hiding just beyond their sights.

Needless to say, it had been a rather slow work day in the Tipsy Bison, with the usual counting and re-counting of stock, checking on the latest brew of beers and whisky, ensuring everything was going as planned, and cleaning of the already immaculate bar, all finished in record time.

Expecting the usual after-work rush that never came, you sent the other two bar staff over to the mess hall to see if the kitchen needed any help with preparations for tomorrow's meals.

As the two said their goodbyes over their shoulders, you heard one of them mumble a shocked "What the hell?"

With your interest piqued, you stepped out from behind the old wooden bar and crossed the floor to the large square windows at the front of the building. Your eyes followed their gaze and watched as the afternoon patrol crew filed through the large wooden and steel-clad gates of the commune.

You waved as a few of your regulars passed you, a few tipping the brims of their ten-gallon hats. You quickly realised what had drawn your colleagues' attention when your eyes landed on two new faces in the middle of the crew.

The first newcomer was a man; he wore a thick brown winter coat and jeans that looked like they could stand up on their own, and you could see the toe of his work boot was mended with what looked to be duck tape. His eyes were sharp and focused, darting around him as if in search of someone or something.

Instantly, he gave you the impression of someone who had been on the road for quite some time. Having been there yourself, you felt a surge of sympathy for him, but you were still wary of him, not knowing why he had been brought inside the walls.

The second was a girl, whom you assumed to be the man's daughter; she was small and looked to be in her early teens. Strands of her tawny brown hair peek out from under her winter hat. big, bright eyes, taking in her surroundings in wonder, while the man stared straight ahead. The girl seemed to be unaware that all eyes were on her, from those who stood on the street to others standing in shop windows, just as you were.

You followed the other barstaff out to the porch and offered the girl a small smile as your eyes met, she quickly looked away without returning it. It wasn't often that Jackson took in new people, opting to keep off the radar to try and protect what you had here. Maria was on this afternoon's patrol and had no doubt made the call to bring the two into the commune.

As the crew passed, heading further into the small town, you saw the man's head snap to the left, and he opened his mouth.

"Tommy!" he shouted, his deep, booming voice ringing in the silence. In an instant, he was off his horse and running in the direction of the scaffolding that had been put up to repair some of the damage to a neighbouring building.

You watched on in stunned silence as the two men ran towards each other, unsure of what the newcomers intentions were, but before you had made it down the two steps of the porch, the man wrapped his arms around Tommy and began laughing, disbelief colouring the sound.

The two men stood embracing each other, both breathless from laughter, and you knew immediately who the newcomer was. This was Joel, Tommy's brother.

Tommy had spoken of him before; usually after one too many whiskies at the bar, he would open up to you about how guilty he felt about staying off the radio. He would say things like, "It's only a matter of time before he comes looking for me, Y/N; what am I supposed to do? Turn him away?" and "One thing about my big bother is that he's persistent."

You had always offered words of understanding and comfort and almost always cut him off and sent him home after those conversations, knowing that no good could come from him drinking any more alcohol.

Part of being the town's main bar tender was also being a listening ear whenever someone needed it, but with Tommy, it was different. He and Maria had become your closest friends, and you would always be there when either of them needed you, working or not.

You always got the sense that something had happened between the two men that couldn't be fixed. As you watched the brothers reunite, you realised that the thought couldn't be further from the truth.

Maria caught your eye as she dismounted from her horse and jerked her head to the side, beseeching you to join her. You nodded at her and crossed the road to where she was standing, hitching her horse to one of the many posts dotted around town.

"Maria, is that who I think it is?" You asked her quietly, not wanting to draw attention to the conversation.

"Yeah, it is," she spat. "I don't know how the hell he found us out here." She continued, venom dripping from each word.

You knew that Maria had never actually met Joel, but from the stories Tommy had told you both in the early years, she knew what he was capable of and decided then and there that she did not like him. You, on the other hand, had a more objective outlook on things.

You were not involved in the same way Maria was, of course; she and Tommy were married after all, so you could understand her reservations when he opened up about his past with his brother and the things they had done and what they thought they needed to do to survive.

The problem was, Maria had been in Jackson longer than you and Tommy and therefore had less of an idea what a brutal hellscape it was outside the walls. Maria wasn't stupid; she knew that it was dangerous, but it had been so long since she had to live like that, to really be surviving, not trusting anyone you met along the way, not knowing where your next meal was coming from, or if you were going to make it to worry about the next meal.

You, on the other hand, had lived that life for longer than you would like to remember, and though you didn't have innocent blood on your hands, they were far from clean. So you could sympathise with Tommy and the demons that clearly kept him up at night. So you felt the hatred that Maria has for Joel was a little unfounded.

"I'm happy he found him again," you admitted, unable to help the undercurrent meant by your works. What you really wanted to say was "This should have happened a long time ago if you had let him respond to Joel's calls on the radio" Meeting her narrowed eyes, you saw a flash of anger in them. No doubt you will get an earful for that comment later.

You knew what she was going to say: that Joel wasn't going to fit in here in Jackson, that Tommy was better off without him, and that you should keep a safe distance from him. But she didn't have the opportunity, as Tommy was already walking towards the two of you.

Joel had walked back to where the girl waited on her horse; a worried, almost disappointed expression crossed her face as he gestured towards Tommy. You watched as he gently helped her down from the animal, making sure she was steady on her feet before the pair followed behind Tommy.

"Y/N, Maria, ah… this is my big brother, Joel," Tommy announced, his tone a mixture of pride and nervousness.

"Hey, it's good to finally meet you; I've heard a lot about you." You smiled kindly at him; he nodded once in response, his expression guarded.

"I'm Ellie! It's nice to meet you," the girl chirps cheerily before shoving her elbow into Joel's ribs. "Joel, say hello," she all but hissed at him, which makes you chuckle.

"It's lovely to meet you, Ellie." You beam.

"It's, uh, good to meet you," he managed quietly.

Two years later...

A loud knock at your front door startles you. Your hand flies to your heart as you curse under your breath. Who the hell would be calling on you at this hour of the morning?

You pad down the hallway and open the door to find Joel standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. He seemed keyed up, and your heart drops to your stomach; something must have happened.

"Hey, is everything okay? Did something happen? Is Ellie alright?" You squeaked at him, the panic rising in your chest causing your voice to go up an octave.

"Yes, darlin, everything's fine, Ellie's good; don't worry; I just need to talk to you about something, that's all," he assured you in his thick Texas drawl.

"Everything's good… but you need to talk to me about something at 6 a.m." You questioned him dubiously, arching an eyebrow at him.

"I promise everything is fine; I have morning patrol and was hoping I could catch you before I head out," Joel explains, the ghost of a smile playing on his plump lips.

"Ah, okay, that makes sense, sorry; c'mon, handsome." You laugh as you open the door for him to enter and close it after him.

He follows you down the hall into the small kitchen, lingering in the doorway and studying you. You can feel his eyes roaming your figure as you pour him a cup of coffee. Strong, black, no sugar—just the way he likes it.

Turning with the mug in your hand, you let out a breathy laugh at the sight of him. He looked wired, far too awake for this hour of the morning. Was he sweating?

"Joel, baby, are you alright?" You ask curiously as you hand him his coffee and take your usual seat at the end of the dining table.

"Yeah, I just…I wanna ask you something but I don't know how" he confessed sheepishly, his large hand coming to scratch nervously at the back of his neck.

"I'd like to think you know me well enough by now to know you can ask me anything." You said it with a smile, hoping to calm whatever was causing his nerves.

"Yeah, no, I know, I just don't want to freak you out; there's no pressure, and I understa-"

"Just spit it out, Joel." You interrupt him. In the two years you had been with Joel, you had never seen him struggle for words with you, and it was making you anxious.

"Okay," he huffs out, pulling the dining room chair out so he could sit facing you. He takes a long drink of coffee before continuing, and the suspense is killing you.

"So I was speaking to Ellie, and you know we both love you; hell, sometimes I think she likes you more than she likes me!" He chuckles fondly: "Look, we've been seeing each other for a while, and now that everyone knows, I think it would be good, you know, f-for Ellie if she had a…I dunno, like a mother figure on a more permanent basis." The words were falling out of his mouth like an avalanche. He desperately hoped he was making sense, but you still weren't understanding.

"Permenant basis? What do you mean?" You ask, confusion clear on your face, making him laugh again.

"Yeah, like on an everyday basis," he enphasises. Urging you to grasp the meaning of his words.

"Okay, um, I mean, yeah, I think that's a great idea. I love that kid. I will tell her about making an effort to hang out every day." You promise him sincerely and are touched that he thinks of you as a mother figure to his daughter.

"That's not really what I was thinking, baby; I mean, on a permanent basis, like you would live in the same house." He husks softly, his eyes searching your face for your reaction, and his heart sinks to his boots as he watches your brows knit together.

"Did you have another fight?" You ask him, reaching your hand up to stroke the side of his face, your thumb lingering on the heart-shaped patch of his beard where the hair refused to grow. "Ellie's always more than welcome to stay here when she likes, but Joel, I don't think her moving in here is the answer."

He takes your hand from his face and holds it between both of his; he huffs all the air from his lungs and slowly takes another deep breath. Straightening in his chair, he locks eyes with you.

"I knew this would be an easy ask, but I didn't imagine you making it this hard on me," he says exasperatedly, huffing out another loud laugh.

"I don't understand." Confusion layers your tone, and you are sure your face is doing the same.

"I'm not asking if Ellie can move in with you; I'm asking if… if you would like to move in with us Y/N" He admits. His brown eyes are soft and lingering on your face, and his thumb is tracing small circles on your wrist.

This was not the conversation you were expecting to have over your morning coffee; your brain was barely functioning, and your mind started to race. The last two years of your life, with Joel and Ellie passing by before you in a blur of colours and memories.

You had sympathised with Joel's struggles to adjust to life in Jackson, and given that you worked in the only bar in town, he quickly became a familiar face. You ignored Maria's warnings to stay away from him; after all, she didn't know him from Adam, and you felt it was unfair to judge someone on the things they had done as the world fell apart overnight.

So, slowly but surely, you found yourself at work, hoping each night that he would stop in so you could get to know him better, and he always did. Always opting to sit at the bar, despite there being plenty of more comfortable booths to sit at.

At first, it was always you who initiated the conversation, asking him how his day was, how the patrol had gone, and how Ellie was fitting in, and you listened tentatively to what little information he would give you. Until eventually, after a couple of months of the same routine, he started to open up to you.

He would ask you how you were, how your shift had been, if you had a good day off, and on occasion he would let slip that he "missed you yesterday" when he called in for a drink on his way home from patrol, only to be disappointed that you were nowhere to be found.

It made you giddy; he was on your mind constantly; it made you feel like there was a swarm of butterflies in your belly, but you thought it was only harmless flirting as there was a considerable age gap between you both, with Joel being in his fifties and you in your early thirties, you didn't think Joel would be interested in a relationship with you.

But how wrong you were! After a couple of weeks of late-night drinks after the bar had officially closed, Joel had bitten the bullet and asked you out, though he asked if you wouldn't mind keeping it between the two of you as he didn't know how Ellie would react to him seeing someone and you gladly accepted.

You understood that Ellie was and always would be his first priority, and you admired his unwavering dedication to her, especially after finding out that Ellie wasn't his blood relative; he had taken her on as "cargo," as he affectionately put it. As a way to get one step closer to finding his brother, but she had worked her way under his skin, much like she did with everyone she met. It was so difficult not to like her. With her quick wit and foul mouth, she never failed to make you laugh. She was definitely his daughter, blood or no blood.

The thought of Ellie brings your mind back to the question at hand: should you move in with them? Was now the right time? Was Ellie even okay about this? Did she even know Joel had asked you? Each question raced through your mind until your mouth found one it could form words around.

"What does Ellie think of this?" You asked Joel intently, reading his face for any signs of worry or panic at your question, but there were none to be found.

"I mentioned to Ellie a few months ago that I thought it would be nice if you were around all the time, and she agreed, and then I sat her down yesterday and told her that I was thinking of asking you today, and she was all for it. I don't want you to feel pressured in any way, though; it's okay if it's too soon; you can say no, and we won't be offended in the slightest!" Joel assures you, his voice is low and genuine.

He lifts his right hand to the side of your face and gently brushes the hair out of your eyes, his calloused thumb stroking back and forth as you lean into his touch, allowing your eyes to fall closed. Taking a deep breath, you throw caution to the wind.

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, your voice drops to a whisper. "Yes, I'll move in."

Suddenly your body was moving, and not by its own volition; your eyes were still closed, so your brain was having trouble registering what was happening. When your eyes flashed open in surprise, you were caught up in Joel's arms, spinning around your small kitchen with your feet no longer planted on the floor.

"Joel!" You squeal through breathy laughter, placing your hands on his broad shoulders to steady yourself.

"Are you sure, baby?" He asks, his eyes sparkling with delight.

"Yes, I'm sure handsome, but I have one condition!" You warn him, arching a fluffy brow.

"Name your price, sweetheart," he smirks at you through the whiskers of his full moustache.

"I get to tell Ellie," You beam back at him, your hand rests on the back of his neck, fingers scractching lightly at the curls that have formed there.

"I think she'd like that," he ghosts against your lips, lightly brushing his nose against your own until you lean up and crush your mouth to his.

Three years later...

It has been a hectic few weeks for the community in Jackson, working through yet another savage winter. You were just through the middle of it, and the end was in sight. The snow storms were not as frequent and the winds were not as wild.

Work has been keeping you busy. You are still the main bartender at the Tipsy Bison, but much to Joel's dismay, you have also picked up a few patrol shifts to lend a hand to Tommy as a few of the older patrol crew stepped back into other work duties due to ill health.

It has felt like months since you and Joel have spent any quality time together, despite living in the same house and working in the same community. Whenever you were both home, he seemed distant and preoccupied, as if there was somewhere else he wanted to be. You tried to engage him in conversation, but he would only give you short answers before retreating into his own thoughts.

At first, you thought that he might just be stressed out from work duty or the weather, as bad as it has been, but as the days turned into weeks, you started to feel a growing sense of unease. You have never seen Joel act this way before, not with you at least, and you don't know what to do.

You miss his closeness; the late-night conversations at the bar while you finished up your shift—all of that has stopped, and no matter how many hours you spent trying to figure out why, you always came up blank.

So needless to say, you were looking forward to spending some quality time with Ellie this evening to help take your mind off your worries. You had stood under the shower for longer than you intended, just enjoying how the steaming water rolled down your tense frame.

With a sigh, you shut off the water and wrapped yourself in your towel, headed into your bedroom to get dressed, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude that the house had heating, an especially rare commodity with the world's current condition. Jackson really was a paradise of sorts.

"Ellie! C'mon kiddo, we're going to be late for the movie!," You shout from the bottom of the stairs, shrugging into your winter jacket.

Movie night Fridays have quickly become a tradition for you and Ellie, especially now that the winter has rolled back around and it's too cold to spend much time outdoors.

"Alright, I'm coming; Jesus, keep your hair on!" Ellie mutters as she makes her way down the stairs, where you wait for her.

"We only have 20 minutes before the film starts, and I know you're going to want to get snacks, so we've got to make tracks." You laugh as she rolls her eyes at you.

"Alright Mom," she mocks, sarcasm dripping from each word.

"You're such a little shit, you know that, right?" You tell her fondly with a warm smile.

"I know, it's all part of my charm," she grins.

"Ah, I see, and does Dina know all about your charm?" You playfully jab her ribs with your elbow, wagging your brows up and down.

"Ugh, you're so annoying; you know that, right?" Ellie counters, always so quick-witted.

"I know, it's all part of my charm," You repeat her words back to her, earning another eye roll.

The two of you leave the house and trudge out into the snow; thankfully, the blizzard has calmed, and now fat, fluffy flakes of snow flurry around you like something from a movie scene.

As brutal as they can be, you have never seen anything more beautiful than Jackson in the winter. It was like something you would see on a postcard of a ski village in the French Alps, all timber buildings and string lights illuminating the small town.

On Friday nights, the mess hall was turned into a makeshift movie theatre for the youth that lived in the commune, offering them some respite from the grind of daily life. It was complete with candy, drinks, and, of course, pop corn.

At first, Ellie hadn't seemed all that interested in going, not knowing many kids her age, but after a lot of coaxing and the promise that if she didn't like it, she didn't have to go again or even stay for the full movie, Though she quickly found her feet with Dina, the rest was really history.

"Where's Joel tonight? I thought he was going to come with us." Ellie asked curiously.

"Oh shit, I meant to tell you earlier; he said Tommy asked him to cover the evening patrol tonight, so he can't make it." You explained, not really sure why Tommy needed him to cover after already doing the afternoon patrol, but it must have been important, so you didn't give it a second thought.

You and Ellie walk in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the peaceful walk through town. You were about to ask her how she was getting on with her work detail when she came to a standstill.

"I thought you said Joel was on patrol tonight?" she demanded, her face contorting in confusion.

"Uh yeah, Ellie, I just told you that." You confirm, your own confusion mirroring hers.

"Then what the fuck is he doing in the bar?" She fumes, gesturing behind you to the window of the Tipsy Bison.

Sure enough, there he sits at the bar with Jenna. Joel was nursing a whisky, and she was playfully peeling back the homemade label of her beer bottle. They are sitting in the corner booth by the window, leaning towards each other to the point where their heads are far too close to be appropriate.

In that moment, your breathing stopped. Your stomach sank to the floor, and an overwhelming sense of panic and dread began to claw viciously from your chest up your throat, resting heavy on your tongue.

"Are you okay?" Ellie asks nervously, not really sure what to do or say in this situation. It could be nothing, but even to her, it definitely looked like something.

"Y-yeah, I'm good. Ellie, why don't you go on down to the mess hall, and I'll meet you there in a few?" You tell her more than ask, your eyes never leaving the window.

"No way fuck that I'm staying with you!" she demands, her eyes growing wet around her long lashes.

"No, Ellie, I need to talk to Joel; I will catch up with you in a few, okay?" You meet her eyes and nod in the direction of the mess hall. She only nods in response; your tone is final as she turns on her heel and storms towards the makeshift movie theatre.

What the fuck is happening right now? You trusted Joel; it never bothered you when the ladies in Jackson would bat their eyes at him or when their glances lingered a little too long. You took it as a compliment; hell, if you were them, you would stare too.

Your relationship was built on a foundation of honesty and trust from the very beginning. You have told him things you have never shared with another living soul, and he has done the same with you. Never in your life did you think you would be lucky enough to share a connection with someone the way you have with Joel, let alone after the world had ended.

And now here you stand in the middle of town, watching the man you love cosy up with another woman in plain sight, not even having the decency to try and hide it from you.

You stand there for another few minutes, watching how he leans across the table to talk to her, laughing and caressing his arm in response. It sets fire to your blood, and you can feel it moving like molten lava in your veins.

You're moving before you realise you have made the decision to do so, your feet carrying you furiously forward, up to the short creaking steps and through the entrance to the bar, and then there you are, looming over their table. Your eyes bore holes into his skull. He jumps in his seat and scrambles frantically to hide the notebook that was sitting open on the table between them. You didn't pay it a second glance.

"I didn't realise the bar needed patrolling this evening," you state pointedly at him, ignoring Jenna, who is doing everything she can to avoid eye contact with you, fidgeting in her seat, and clambering to get her things together. Grabbing her coat and scarf from beside her.

"Hey darlin, I thought you and Ellie were heading to the movies." He asks, his voice rough with his attempts to hide his nerves.

"We were on our way there when she saw this cosy scene from the street." You gesture with your hand towards the table, your voice icy as you let your hand drop to your side with an audible slap, which made Jenna flinch.

"I think I'm going to head out…" Jenna murmurs in a small, quiet voice, still avoiding your gaze.

"That is a wise decision" You agreed without taking your eyes of Joel.

She throws Joel a cryptic glance before clambering out of her seat and quickly making her way to the door, shooting Joel an apologetic glance over her shoulder, which only fuels the rage bubbling up in your throat.

"What the fuck?" You growl at him, doing your best to keep your voice under control. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene. Especially not at your workplace, regardless of whether you were on shift or not.

"What's wrong with you?" he asks, genuinely confused by your anger.

"Please tell me you're joking," you seethe.

"What? I can't have a drink with a friend." He scoffs, incredulous.

"Seriously Joel? Since when have you had to lie about working to have a drink with a friend?"

"Don't you think you're overreacting just a bit?" he countered, avoiding the question.

"No, I really don't think I am. How could you do this? How could you do this in front of Ellie?!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Joel huffs back at you, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your eyes begin to prick with anger fuelled tears; the feeling of betrayal rips through you, leaving you exposed to his hard gaze. You can't take any more of this. It feels like the room is closing in around you. That you will suffocate if you don't leave right now. You look at him once more, and the fact that he hasn't denied it or assured you that this is anything other than what you fear it to be ,allows your world to crumble around you.

"Alright," you manage in a broken whisper that comes out as a choked sob.

With that, you turn and bolt for the door, desperately gasping for air but unable to get enough to fill your lungs. You have to brace yourself on the railing of the porch. You can feel his eyes on you as he watches you leave from where he sits frozen at the table, but he makes no move to follow after you.

Willing your legs to move, you push off the railing and slowly make your way to the mess hall, slipping in just as the movie is starting. You can see Ellie is sitting in the middle of the crowded room, and she has saved you a seat beside her.

You make your way to the restroom, taking in your reflection for the first time that evening. Your face is red and splotchy from crying, your eyes puffy, and your lips swollen from your teeth worrying at them. With shaking hands, you reach out to turn the tap on, splashing the icy cold water over your face as you try to make sense of what has just unfolded.

You knew Jenna; she is one of the few people trained in blacksmithing in Jackson, but you had never been especially close with her. She would frequent the bar and chat with you about her work day and vice versa, but that was the extent of your relationship with her, and you have never seen Joel interact with her. It just didn't make sense; why would he throw everything away for a fling with someone who lives in the same commune? Did he really think you wouldn't find out?

You do your best to shake the thoughts from your head, focused on spending the rest of the evening with Ellie, you will do everything in your power to shelter her from this. So with a deep breath, you put a smile on your face and left the restroom, smiling and waving politely at familiar faces as you made your way to your seat, stopping by the makeshift concession stand to grab Ellie some popcorn and a soda on your way.

"Hey, I've got you some snacks, kiddo." You whisper to her, not wanting to interrupt the film.

"Thanks, are you okay?" She murmered with a small smile. Taking the snacks from your outstretched hands.

"Yes, of course everything's fine; there was a mix-up with the patrols, so Joel didn't have to work tonight after all." You reassured her softly.

It cut you to the bone to have to lie to her to cover up his indiscretion because you didn't want her to think any less of him. He is her world, and she is his, and you wouldn't be the one to jeopardise that.

You weren't really sure what movie was even playing tonight, so lost in your thoughts that it was just a blurry hum in the background. Ellie had to nudge your shoulder several times to tell you that the movie had was over. Glancing around to find a steady stream of people filing out of the mess hall.

"Sorry, Ellie, I'm just a bit distracted tonight; work has been so hectic recently, and I have so much to do when I open tomorrow." You do your best to laugh it off. Hoping that she will let it go and that she wasn't being as observant tonight as she usually is. The girl misses nothing.

"It's okay, the film was a repeat anyway," she shrugs, not pressing you on the matter, though you know all too well that the questions will come eventually.

"Shall we head home? It sounds like it's getting pretty rough out there," you noted, as another howl of wind wipped around the wooden building.

"Sounds good; I want to have a shower before Joel uses all the hot water again," she ribs in a peel of bright laughter that sends warmth radiating through your now hollow chest.

When you reach the house, you find it in darkness. Joel hasn't made it home yet, and although you are beyond angry, you can't help but worry about him. Of course he can look after himself, but it isn't like him to be out this late if he wasn't on patrol.

The seething voice in the back of your head reminds you that he could be with her. You try to push those thoughts out of your head, but they linger like a dark cloud, casting a grim shadow over what was your perfect - or as perfect as it could be - life.

"I'm going for a shower and then head to bed, you okay?" Ellie asks, once again pulling you from your thoughts.

"Yeah, of course, kiddo, no worries. Do you need anything? You want some tea?" You offer as you head to the stove and place a pot of water on to boil.

"No, I'm good. Thanks though, g'night!" She calls over her shoulder, and then you are alone in the small kitchen.

"Night kiddo," You call quietly to her as you reach for the herbal tea blend that you and Ellie grew in your little garden last summer.

As you wait for the water to boil, your mind starts to race with worry and anxiety. You can't help but think of all the possible scenarios that could be keeping Joel out this late, and the thought of him being with another woman makes you want to break things. You have tried to push those thoughts out of your head so many times this evening, but they keep creeping back.

A few hours later, you are sitting in one of the armchairs in the living room, desperately fighting to keep your eyes open, but in the end you give up, gently placing your book on the coffee table and removing the blanket from your lap. You look at the clock on the wall, and it's just after 3am.

You pad into the kitchen and leave your mug in the sink, too tired to wash it now; that's tomorrow's problem. Heading up the creaky stairs to your bedroom and crawling into the cold sheets. It feels wrong going to bed without Joel by your side, but he is god knows where right now, so you lean over, turn the bedside lamp off, and sink into a restless, uneasy sleep.

You wake to the wintery morning sunshine seeping through your bedroom window. Instinctively, you run your hand across Joel's side of the bed; it's unmade but cold, so he did come home last night, but he was up before you, which is unusual.

Instinctively, you run your hand across Joel's side of the bed; it's unmade but cold, so he did come home last night, but he was up before you, which is unusual.

Slowly sitting up in bed, you stretch your tired bones, sore from your restless few hours of sleep, and swing your legs out of bed. It's only 7 a.m.; you don't usually open the bar until midday, so you have plenty of time to get ready.

You slink down the stairs, careful not to wake Ellie as you do so. Heading into the kitchen mid-yawn, you stop in your tracks as you find Joel standing at the stove, hovering over a pot of boiling water on the closest ring to him.

"Mornin'," he husks without turning; he must have heard you yawning with his good ear to the doorway.

You ignore him, knowing full well that it's petty and childish and ultimately will not resolve anything, but with the way he behaved last night, you feel the cold shoulder is justified.

You both continue with your morning rituals in silence. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but you didn't know where to begin broaching the subject, and the more you stewed over it, the more you felt he should be the one to open the conversation with an explanation, but if you were being totally honest with yourself, you were beginning to worry that you may have jumped to conclusions.

But when you thought about the way they were huddled together, her hand on his arm, and the way she tipped her head back in laughter at each thing he said, the pit in your stomach grew. As did the silence between you.

Things went on like this for days, with the two of you skirting around each other and avoiding eye contact. Only speaking to each other when absolutely necessary, like dinner times, and giving each other your work duties for the week.

You could see the effect this was having on Ellie; she has been especially quiet the last few days, so once Joel leaves for work, you sit with her on the couch and try to get her to open up.

"Ellie, is everything okay?" you ask, trying to keep your tone light.

"I don't know. You and Joel have been acting weird lately, and it's making me tense." She shrugs, not meeting your gaze.

You take a deep breath, knowing that you can't keep avoiding the issue. "Yeah, we've been having some problems. But it's nothing you need to worry about, kiddo."

"It doesn't seem like nothing," she retorts. "You guys haven't spoken in days. It's not like you."

"I know, Ellie. I just don't know how to fix it." You sigh.

"Maybe you could start by talking to him," she suggests.

"It's not that simple, Ellie. There's a lot going on." You shake your head.

"Well, maybe it would help if you talked to me about it," she offers.

"Thanks, Ellie. But it's not something I can really discuss with you. Just know that Joel and I are working through some things and we'll get through it." You smile softly at her, grateful for her kindness.

She nods, not looking convinced but not pressing the issue. You sit in silence for a moment before she stands up. "I'm gonna head out for a bit. Need to clear my head."

"Okay, kiddo. Be safe," you say, watching her leave.

You're left alone in the quiet house, the weight of your problems still heavy on your shoulders. You know Ellie is right; you need to talk to Joel. But the thought of confronting him is daunting, and you don't know if you want to hear what he has to say.

What if he doesn't want you anymore? What if he's not happy and hasn't been for a while?

You decide that enough is enough. After work this evening, you are going to speak to him and attempt to clear the air, hear his side of the story, and try to move forward, if not for the sake of your relationship but for Ellie. It's not fair to have this weighing on her shoulders; it's not her fault, and you hate seeing her unhappy, and you know that Joel will feel the same about his if nothing else.

The workday drags on uneventfully; the only thing standing out was that Jenna had come to the bar for the first time since that evening. She gave you a small smile, and you returned it with a polite nod. You were at work after all and took it upon yourself to remain as professional as possible.

Jenna approaches the bar and orders her usual, which you pour for her without issue, though it makes your skin itchy to be this close to her.

"Have you spoken to Joel yet?" she asks quietly. Wiping her fingertips across the bartop.

You stare at her blankly; the audacity of this woman boggles your mind.

"No," you respond curtly.

"Okay, well, when you do, come and find me. We'll have a lot to discuss." She states matter-of-factly, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

Before you have the chance to give her a piece of your mind, she is walking away from the bar, her long auburn hair swishing to her lower back. What the fuck is her problem?

You try to get through the rest of your day without dwelling on the conversation you had with Jenna, focusing more on the impending conversation you are going to have with Joel this evening. Thinking about what you were going to say to him, how you were going to explain how you felt, and how hurt you have been over the last few days.

You lock up the bar and head towards home for the evening, taking a little more time than you usually would, feet dragging, dreading the fight that would likely ensue once you had spoken to him. You tell yourself you will keep a level head, but you know deep down your temper would not allow that to happen if he gave you some bullshit excuse.

As you approach the small, snow-covered pathway that leads to the back porch of your home, you pause there, unable to bring yourself to go inside. So you take a seat on the second step and watch the flurries of fluffy snow as they make their way through the air to join the pillowy blanket that covers everything in sight.

You sit there for what feels like hours. Jackson was always quiet; it needed to be in order to keep what you have here safe, but as you sit in the darkness, the only light coming from the dim porch light and the light seeping through the thin linen curtains from the living room, it feels eerily silent and still. The sound of the backdoor creaking open made you jump. The heavy footsteps that followed, however, were all too familiar.

"You gonna stay out here all night?" He asked quietly, his voice low and soft.

"No, I was just… well, I don't really know what I was doing." You offer a small laugh, void of any humour.

Joel takes a few steps and groans loudly as he lowers himself to join you where you sit. He is quiet for a few moments until he finally speaks.

"I wanted to say that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the other night and how it must have looked. I'm sorry for not explaining to you then and there what it was; I didn't want to tell you, and I still don't really. But I promise you on my life that it is not what you think it is, Darlin," he says softly, regret heavy in his tone.

"I don't understand Joel; I just want to understand what the fuck has been going on," you pleaded, hating how desperate your voice sounded.

"I know, baby, and I'm going to tell you. I just didn't want to ruin the surprise. I also didn't want to tell you without speaking to Ellie first, but I spoke to her at dinner, and now she understands." He assures you, his hand coming up to brush your cold cheek for the first time in days, and it was impossible not to lean into the heat of his palm.

"Okay, so now everyone knows but me, why were you all cozied up with Jenna? Why did you lie to me about going to work?" You challenged him, removing your face from his touch.

"Hold on," he huffs, shifting his weight to one hip as he fishes for something in his back pocket before continuing. "It will make more sense once you see this, or I hope it will at least," he offers as he hands you a beaten-up, leather-bound note book.

"What is this?" You ask him, you remember seeing it on the table in the bar the other night.

"Would you just open it?" he sighs, rubbing his hand through his patchy whiskers nervously.

You do as he says and open the notebook, and what you find takes you aback. The notebook is filled almost front to back with little sketches of rings and little notes about different metals and gems in his familar handwriting and another that you don't recognize.

"Wh-what is this?" You repeat, stunned. So many thoughts racing through your mind and you are beggining to realise that you have completely misread the situaiton the other night.

"I know I was going to have to tell you about it eventually, you know for your size and all but I was planning to do that after I asked you…but then with the other night I wasn't sure what to say and I was kind of pissed off that you where angry at me, I didn't stop to think that you weren't in on the secret and what it must have looked like to you," Joel's hand came to rest on your knee squeezing reassuringly as he explained the circumstances that lead to what you saw in the bar.

"I have been meeting up with Jenna over the last few weeks, she's the only blacksmith in Jackson that used to make jewelry…specifically engagement rings," he paused allowing his words to sink in before finishing his explination.

"We've been trying to figure out how to make you one, what metals mix well from what I have found on supply runs, whether to hold off if I could find a stone or a gem, or if we could make it without one,"

You stare at him, a mix of astonishment and disbelief washing over you. The pieces start to fall into place, and you realize the truth behind Joel's actions. The anger and hurt that had consumed you begin to melt away, replaced by a flood of emotions, the most promanent being embarrassment.

"You were planning to… ask me?" you stutter, your voice barely a whisper. The weight of your accusation hangs heavy in the air as you struggle to comprehend the situation.

"Yeah, I was. I've been saving up for months, looking for the right opportunity, and I wanted it to be a surprise. Jenna's been helping me because she's skilled at crafting intricate pieces. I wanted to make something special for you, something that would last a lifetime." Joel nods, his eyes filled with sincerity.

Tears well up in your eyes as the realization of your mistake dawns upon you. You reach for Joel's hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "Oh, Joel, I'm so sorry," you say, your voice trembling. "I jumped to conclusions without knowing the whole story. I never thought…I feel like such a peice of shit, I'm so sorry"

"It's okay, darlin'. I should've communicated better, explained everything to you beforehand. I understand why you were upset." He squeezes your hand gently, his thumb caressing your knuckles.

"But why did you lie about going to work?" you inquire, still wanting to grasp every detail.

"We thought it would be best if we kept it a secret until it was ready. And I didn't want you to suspect anything. I wanted the proposal to be a surprise, and I was afraid if I told you I was hanging out with Jenna, you'd figure it out before I had the chance." He shrugged.

"Joel, I can't believe you're doing this. You've put so much thought and effort into making something special for us. I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you. I have been so awful to you over the last few days," You let out a shaky breath, your heart filled with a strange mix of relief, shame and joy.

A soft smile graces Joel's lips as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. "Don't say that, sweetheart. You deserve the world, and I want to give it to you. I love you more than anything, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Tears stream down your face now, but they're tears of happiness. You lean in and rest your head on Joel's shoulder, feeling the warmth of his presence envelop you. The weight of the misunderstanding lifts, leaving behind a newfound sense of trust and appreciation.

"I love you too, Joel," you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity. "I'm sorry for being such a bitch and for overreacting. I should have known you'd never do anything to hurt me."

"Hey, we all make mistakes, darlin'. It wouldn't be the first time I've got pissed at you for something I misunderstood now is it?." he chuckles quietly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"I guess no ones perfect," you echo his laughter leaning into him further.

As you sit together on the porch steps, surrounded by the beauty of the snowfall, you realize that the snow isn't the only thing that's melting. The icy barriers that had formed between you and Joel are slowly thawing away, leaving behind a comfortable quiet.

"So, now that the cats out of the bag, will you…?" he asks his deep voice thick with emotion.

"Will I what handsome?" You look up at him teasing, your eyes twinkling.

A playful grin tugs at the corners of Joel's mouth as he meets your gaze. "Will you marry me, my beautiful, stubborn, and occasionally misunderstood partner in crime?" he asks, his voice laced with a mixture of nervousness and hope.

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and a surge of excitement courses through you. You pretend to ponder his question, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Well, I don't know, Joel. I mean, after all that's happened, can I really trust you with my heart?" you tease, a smile playing on your lips.

Joel feigns a look of hurt, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. "Oh, come on now. I've endured snowball fights, kitchen mishaps, you and Ellie ganging up on me and even your questionable taste in movies. If that's not true love, I don't know what is."

Laughter bubbles up from within you, and you lean in closer, pressing your forehead against his. "Joel, you are my love and my rock. Of course, I'll marry you," you say, your voice filled with so much love.

In that peaceful moment, wrapped in the calm of the snowfall and the safety of his strong arms, you realize that there will be silly arguments, misunderstandings and cold shoulders, but you will always find your way back to each other. You let out a sigh of contentment as Joel presses silent kisses against your head, happy to sit here forever wrapped up in him.

Knowing that Joel and Ellie will forever be your guiding lights.

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