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darlingshane · 6 months

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Todo Tuyo (All Yours)

Pairing: Criminal!Shane Walsh x Spanish!Pregnant!Reader

Summary: Some bonds are unable to explain, and yours with Shane has always been a mystery. No matter how many times he's hurt you, you always ended up taking back his sorry ass. This time, after three years gone, when he comes back, you're married and pregnant. And not even that can challenge that bond.

Content/Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Heavy Angst, Smut, Pregnancy Kink, Breeding Kink, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Vaginal Sex, Complicated Relationships, DV, Abuse, Mention of drugs and violence, bittersweet ending.

Word Count: 10.9k

— Read below or at AO3.

A/N: A few important things you should know before reading since I couldn't sum it all up:

— The DV and Abuse warnings don't apply to Shane. — Reader's husband is the abuser. — This is kind of a Dark!Shane version, but he's soft for reader, I promise! — I wrote this as a Spanish!Speaking Reader. — Shane is fluent in Spanish. He learned for her. — I tried to keep Spanish down to a few sentences only, but I translated them all in (bold, italic parenthesis like this). — I won't be translating however all the pet names, just when I need to. But for reference – Shane calls reader 'Corazón' (it means heart, it's the equivalent of Sweetheart) and Reader calls Shane 'Cielo' (it means sky, and it's just like Sweetheart or Honey.)

“What the hell are you doing here?”

You only cracked the door as far as the chain on the lock let you. Through it, you could only see half of your ex-boyfriend's face shadowed under a worn-out baseball cap from Jim’s Body Shop. A handful of curls stuck out on the sides. His chin had a nice shadow from a three-day stubble, and the bags below his eyes gave away that he had been up for longer than he should have. He was still the hottest motherfucker you’ve ever laid your eyes on. No matter how much time had passed since the last time you saw him, Shane Walsh aged just like wine and all you wanted to do is pour yourself a cup of that.

That’s how strong was his hold on you.

You didn't have to be a genius to see that he wanted something from you. That was his MO, he only showed up when he was in trouble and had no one to turn to but poor old sucker you, who never had the guts to kick him to the curb.

“I need a place to stay for a couple of nights,” he said under a breath.

“Things have changed. You can’t stay here this time.”

“Look, I know it's been a while but–”

“A while?” you scoffed. “It's been three years, Shane.”

“I know that. But I don't really have anywhere else to go right now. I drove all the way from Wyoming just to see you. One night. That’s all I'm asking, Corazón. I won't get in your hair. I promise.”

You hated saying no to him, even after all this time. Even after all the times he's let you down, you couldn’t stand seeing him hurt with nowhere to go, but this time there was nothing you could do to help him. Except…

“I could get you a room at The Sennott for half off. If you need money…”

“No, keep your money. I'll work something out. Could I…”

“What?”

“Before I go, you think I could have a cup of coffee with you?”

You shook your head as his face leaned closer to the door frame.

“C'mon, baby, just one for old times,” his plush lips barely mumbled.

You caught a glimpse of those big, sad puppy eyes of his he pulled off so well. Whether it was genuine, it didn’t matter. The fact is that it worked like a charm and against your better judgment, you sighted, unlatched the chain and welcomed him into your home.

After all that time gone, you still had a soft stop from him, and you doubt that’ll ever change. Alas, he’d always be the man you’ve loved the most. That sucks for you and for him. Cause he has a tendency to disappear on you when you most need him, and after the last time, you decided that you wouldn't be waiting for him anymore.

“Wow, you’re pregnant,” taking off his cap, his eyes grew wide when he stepped inside the house.

“No me digas.” (You don’t say.)

It was hard to miss. You were seven months along already and couldn’t even believe it happened so fast.

Your palm drew the curve of your rounded belly over the t-shirt you were wearing. The hem barely touched the top of your thighs, and that’s where he looked next.

“You always had beautiful legs, Corazón,” he smirked, placing the backpack he was carrying on a chair.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” you turned around and thought about all those times your thighs were wrapped around his head while he ate your pussy.

“It never did,” Shane scoffed, fixing his messed up curls.

You picked up the carafe from the machine, filled a mug with coffee without even bothering with heating it up.

“Five minutes. He’ll be here soon,” you said firmly, handing over the mug.

“I’ve always liked it cold anyway,” he lifted the cup up to his lips as you leaned on the counter. “You’re not having any?”

“It’s not good for the baby.”

“Oh, right.”

“What have you been up to, anyway?”

“Do you really wanna know?”

“Not really,” you crossed your arms and paused. “I guess I thought I deserved to know why you didn’t come back when you said you would. I saw Rick a few months ago and said he hadn’t heard of you in a while… led me to believe you were dead.”

“Shit happens.”

“Shit happens? Me lo merezco por preguntar,” you couldn’t hide the frustration in your tone. (I deserve that for asking.)

“I thought you’d be over me.”

“I am.”

“Ain't seem like it.”

“Mira, cabrón,” you showed him the ring around your finger, and pointed once more at your pregnant stomach. “I’m completely over you.” (Look, bastard.)

“That doesn’t prove shit. Looks like you wanted to one-up me, and move on as fast as possible so next time I’d show up, you’d have an excuse to throw me away.”

“Yeah, maybe. Doesn’t mean that I’m not over you.”

“You were always a terrible liar, you know that? Do you even love the poor sucker?”

“Why do you care?”

“Cause we both know, that no matter how much you hate me, you’d never love anyone as you love me.”

“That’s bullshit, Shane.”

“Sabes que es verdad, Corazón. You also know that no man would ever care for you like I do.” (You know that’s true, sweetheart.)

“If that were true, you wouldn’t be leaving every five minutes. You think you can just come here like nothing happened?”

“It's worked before.”

“It’s too late now.”

“Is it?”

He took one more sip from his coffee before placing the mug on the breakfast bar and going around it to have you closer.

As your stare fell to the floor, he noticed the bruise on your temple.

“Hey, what happened here?” he lifted his hand to your face and gently touched it.

“Nothing,” you swatted his hand away, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I hit my head with the cabinet last night.”

“Did he hit you?” His brow knitted.

“I told you. It was the cabinet.”

“Hey, mírame,” he placed a finger under your chin, and tilted up to capture your watery eyes. “Dime la verdad. ¿Te ha puesto la mano encima?” (Hey, Look at me. // Tell me the truth. Did he lay his hand on you?)

“Tienes que irte.” (You gotta go.)

“¿De qué tienes miedo, Corazón?” (What are you afraid of, Sweetheart?)

“No tengo miedo de nada… You just can’t be here when he comes back.” (I’m not afraid of anything…)

“Alright, I’ll go if that’s what you want, but I need to do something first,” he lifted his hand up to your face and framed your chin.

“Shane… don’t…”

“Sh, sh, it’s okay,” he said under a breath, placing his thumb gently on your lips.

“Please,” You weakly pleaded, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to stop what was about to happen.

His tongue swiped across his lips, and the next second they were gently pressed against yours.

Your eyes welled up and quickly shed a few tears upon that first initial contact. It didn’t take much to get you under his spell once more, for the umpteenth time. No matter how many times you’ve tried to convince yourself how fucking toxic he is, you fell for it every damn time like an idiot. It didn’t matter that you were married either, as bad as it sounds, what you and Shane had was something that couldn’t be stopped by any means. Only death could put an end to it. It didn’t help either that you weren’t on the best of terms with your husband either, so guilt went out the door the moment you let Shane in.

Unable to pull away, you let him deepen the kiss and invade your mouth with his tongue. He went slow and tender. That’s how it always started, he’d play on your good side, and once your defenses were down he’d go in full swing. He’d breathe in your air, soak in the taste of your mouth, take all the space until you were left breathless.

You linked your arms around his neck, and kissed him back, following the sweet undoing of his familiar lips as they fused tightly with yours.

When he tried to press himself closer to your body, your pregnant belly got on the way.

One of his palms tenderly landed on top of your stomach and drew the big curve that was keeping him away from you. Your heart fluttered as the small gesture.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are like this?” he broke the kiss, and looked down at his hand, while your head responded with a faint shake. “Eres preciosa, mi vida. I’d’ve put a baby in you before if that’s what you wanted.” (You’re gorgeous, my life.)

“I know, that’s why I never asked,” you placed your palm on top of his roughed-up knuckles. “Have you beaten up someone?”

“Something like that.”

“You’ll never change. Will you?”

“I could if you ask me.”

“You are who you are, Cielo. I can’t ask you that, and you can’t change for me.”

“Cielo. I missed that,” his face beamed, framing your tummy with both hands and dipped to kiss your forehead.

“One more for the road?” You held his face, and it was you this time the one capturing his mouth.

You kissed him as if this was the last time you’d ever see him. You needed something to hold onto. It was so fucking naive of you that he’d ever change or settle. He had another mistress, one that had no lips or body or soul that led him to the darkest of paths far away from yours. It was impossible to compete with that. Until he was ready to let that life go, there’ll be no future between the two of you.

Maybe one day, you kept hoping as you basked in the swirl of his tongue. He was so fucking needy and hungry for you, it became desperate. He panted in your mouth, had trouble catching his breath cause all he wanted to do is swallow you all.

His hands moved to your ass, gripped hard at your flesh. You wish you had the power to stop all that at once. You could, but you wanted him just as much. Your hormones were not helping either. They only fueled the flame that was still clearly alive between you.

You moaned in his mouth, as the sloppy doing of his tongue drove you out of your mind. One of his hands reached further down your bottom, slipping between your thighs to feel the dampness pooling on your underwear. He always knew how to get you wet with just a kiss, but this was something else entirely. You were sopping wet. He could feel your juices seeping through the fabric.

“Say that you don’t want me again, I dare you,” he drawled with a shit-eating grin.

“Shut up. I need you to fuck me,” you sucked in his lower lip hard between your teeth, tugged it, and let it go when it was bright pink.

He scoffed at your request, not of mockery but pride of being still able to incite you like that.

“We don’t have much time. You have to do it fast,” you warned and turned around, pushing your panties down to your ankles as he undid his belt and fly.

“Your wish is my command, Corazón.”

Shane quickly pulled out his cock. It was half hard.

Biting on your lip, you glanced over your shoulder to see him jerking himself off up to a firmer completion.

You stuck your butt out and propped your forearms on the hard surface of the counter, as Shane guided his cock oh so carefully between your tender lips.

“I’ve never fucked a pregnant woman before. I don't wanna hurt you,” he confessed in your ear as his hardness stroked just a little further into your walls.

“Don’t overthink it. Baby’s safe. Just fuck me like always.”

“Hmm,” he followed your order and after a couple of experimental thrusts, the pace of his hips skyrocketed to a punishing level that felt like heaven and hell rising at the same time between your legs. He kept your hips locked in his hands, fingers digging in your flesh as you tucked one of your hands between your legs to feel your juices leaking all over your legs and floor. It was like nothing else you’ve ever felt. Most of it was partially hormonal, the other part was a mix of being touch-starved from your husband, and missing Shane, and his cock like crazy.

You rubbed your clit and all of a sudden one of his hands slipped under the hem of your shirt at the front to feel your breasts.

“Fuck, you’re so big and juicy, mi vida,” he grunted, squeezing your overly-sensitive, pebbled nipple that felt like a rock between his fingers. His face leaned closer to whisper in your ear. “I’d put another baby in there if I could. You’d like that?”

“God, I would love that,” you moaned, throwing your head back against his shoulder. “Come inside me, mi amor.”

“Yeah? Tell me you love me, and I’ll give you anything you want.”

“I love you, Cielo,” you gasped as he removed your hand from your pussy to replace it with his own. “I fucking love you and your big cock. Please. Hmm, fuck… fuck, fu…”

“There, mi vida.”

You felt your soul being pulled out of your body when the winning push forced a torrent of pleasure that traveled over your body as your opening contracted around his dick. You went up so high, so fast, you almost didn’t feel when he shot his load.

When he slipped out of you, you quickly went down to pull on your panties back in place. You almost felt embarrassed at the mess that you made on the floor and all over the cabinets below the counter if it didn’t feel that good.

“You really have to go now,” placing a palm on his chest, you glanced out the window, knowing that your husband wouldn’t take much longer now.

“I wanna see you again.”

Your eyes welled up. “We can’t do this again, Shane. If he finds out…”

“Please,” he pleaded over and over in between a trail of desperation and kisses peppered all over your face and neck. “I can’t live without you, mi amor, mi cielo, mi corazón. Te necesito.” (My love, my sky, my heart. I need you.)

“Shit. Alright,” you paused to collect your thoughts. “Come tonight. After ten. He’ll be gone the whole weekend. If there’s a truck on the driveway you turn away.”

“Got it.”

“Leave your car at the end of the street, you walk all the way here, and come at the back. ¿Entendido?” you pointed at the back door in your kitchen. (Got it?)

“Alto y claro.” (Loud and clear.)

“C’mere, Cielo,” you wrapped your arms tightly around him, and inhaled the smell of his neck for a long moment before sending him in his way.

You went into the bathroom to clean yourself up and saw his seed had dripped from your pussy to your panties. It was still warm and wet. You dabbed your fingers on it and shamelessly brought it to your lips to remember how his cum tasted. Then you pushed those same fingers into your opening to pick up the remains of you and him and licked every bit of it off your digits.

You hated that he had turned you into this mess of a woman that couldn’t ever resist him. Some bonds are unable to explain, and as much as you hated him, you loved him even more than you thought.

As you wiped your legs and changed your underwear, you felt the roaring of your husband’s truck pulling up the driveway before stomping into the house. You hurried to clean up the mess in the kitchen. You could tell it smelled like sex, but Clayton had been drinking as usual, and his senses were shot by the stench of alcohol.

You really knew how to pick them. First Shane, then Clayton. To be fair, Clay was a completely different person when you met him. It wasn’t until a few months ago that he lost his job, and you got pregnant that he started showing his true colors. While Shane, you always knew what you were in for cause he was always the same person from beginning to end, he never hid what he was.

Every other weekend Clay went to a cabin up in the mountains with a group of friends to hunt and whatever the hell they did cause hardly you ever saw anything brought back from those alleged hunting trips. He just brought more dirty clothes soaked in booze and muddied boots. Lately, you didn't even care. You actually preferred when he was gone cause it got him out of the house and those weekends away were the only times you could breathe.

For all that he had put you through, you didn’t feel guilty in the slightest from doing what you did with Shane. God knows Clay would probably be fucking around. You were sure of it cause one, he hand’t touch you since you told him you were pregnant; and two you weren't blind or deaf either, and had caught him talking overly friendly, like he used to talk to you at the beginning, over the phone a couple of times when he thought you were asleep.

“Did you have coffee?” Clay picked up the mug with coffee grounds that Shane left on the counter. “You shouldn’t drink it.”

“I didn’t have any. I had a friend over earlier and I forgot to clean it up.”

“You know how I feel about having people in my house when I’m not here.”

“It’s my house actually,” you pointed out. “What? Are you gonna forbid me from having friends over now?”

You knew you shouldn't poke the bear when it was drunk, but sometimes your mouth ran faster than your brain.

“We're married, remember? What's yours is mine and all that shit. Don't forget that, bitch.”

God, you had to refrain so hard from punching his face.

As you headed out of the kitchen to avoid getting yourself further into trouble, he grabbed your arm, stopping you from leaving.

“I am your husband. And this is my house. You'd be nothing without me. Show some respect.”

“Men who hurt their wives, their pregnant wives, don't deserve any respect,” you snarled. “Now let me go before you do something you might regret later.”

He looked at you with sharp steel eyes, clutching your arm so hard it felt like he might snap it in half. He wanted to hit you so badly, you could tell, like the night before when he swung the remote across your face when you accidentally knocked over his beer.

You held his stare just as defiantly, and pulled your arm free from his grasp. It left a mark that turned into a bruise quickly after.

Staying out of his way, you went into the nursery and sat down with a book on the armchair to read while he gathered his hunting supplies. You heard him heating up some leftovers and showering before leaving.

All you could think when you listened to his truck drive off was seeing Shane again. You had a couple of hours left to get ready. It was a safe window for you to know that your husband was up in the mountains and wouldn't be coming back till Sunday. You followed his friend's updates on Instagram to keep track of him. Trent was an avid poster, and it was the perfect way to keep tabs on him to avoid the imminent disaster of him finding you with your ex.

You took a shower and changed the sheets of your bed, so they wouldn't smell like Clayton. You were dead set on banging Shane in your bed. Technically, he had fucked you many times before, pretty much in every room of this house but never in your new marital bed. It really excited you thinking about it. You wished you had more time to go to the mall to purchase some sexy lingerie that fitted your pregnant body.

God, Shane really knew how to turn you into an idiot.

In the end, it didn't matter what you wore cause it wouldn't stay on for long. You opted for wearing a pair of lacy panties that you could still fit, but the matching bra didn't stand a chance against your new boobs. You put on a flannel shirt instead, and buttoned a couple of buttons that allowed for your generous cleavage to be the center of attention.

You took off your ring as well and hid it in one of the drawers of your nightstand.

When you finished fixing your hair you went around the house and drew all the curtains for privacy. Then you finally got to relax for a while. You checked Trent's Instagram to make sure they had arrived at the cabin. Exactly like you predicted, he documented the whole thing.

Waiting for Shane, you watched TV and ate some food. When you looked at the clock it was twenty minutes past ten. He couldn't be far, right? You built yourself up to the idea of meeting him again, that’d be disappointing if he didn’t come.

For ten more minutes, you started to believe you shouldn’t have put that much effort until you heard a soft knocking on the back door.

“Empezaba a creer que habías cambiado de idea,” you said, letting him in, and securing the lock on the door. (I was starting to think you changed your mind.)

“When have I ever disappointed you, mi vida?” As you took his hand, you gave him a look, and he scoffed, “don’t answer that.”

“I’m just glad you came back.”

“Fuck! Look at you, Corazón,” his eyes traveled down your body when you turned to him. “You wanna give me a heart attack?”

Taking that as a win, you grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulled firmly towards you to have his lips crash against yours. Then you took him to the bedroom and as you were about to capture his mouth again, Shane stopped you.

“Hold on,” he put some distance between the two of you. “I need to get a good look at you.”

He took off his shirt and tossed aside, as he circled around your body, committing to memory the new curves of your body. When he stood in front of you, you took a closer look at his exposed chest and gulped at the sight of your name tattooed in delicate lettering over his left pec.

“You got that for me?” you traced it with a finger.

“Si, Corazón.”

Your stomach fluttered as his fingers undid the two buttons of your shirt and pushed it off your shoulders to uncover your breasts and baby bump.

“You’re gorgeous like this, mi vida,” the flannel shirt fell to the floor as the back of his knuckles brushed the side of your heavy breast before holding one of them in his hand. It was way larger than his palm he realized, he used to be able to hold it all, now your flesh puffed up between his fingers when he squeezed. “You’re so sensitive.” He noticed your nipples getting hard with just a light touch.

“You can’t even imagine,” you laughed.

“How about here?” Shane guided his other hand between your legs to feel that you were already wet.

You hummed at the soft strokes of his fingers as they slid under the elastic to caress your tender skin. His lips parted at the corner of your mouth as he gathered the arousal from your folds. Your lips down there were puffed too from all the blood gathering all at your core.

“Lay down, I wanna eat you up, Darlin’.”

He bit his bottom lip and watched you following his order. You slipped your panties off under the dark stare of his beautiful eyes that had turned from sweet to a dangerous edge that could set anyone on fire.

You tucked a few pillows beneath your back to keep the weight of your belly off your spine, and reclined as comfortably as you could, spreading your legs wide for him like an offering.

With a grin, he propped a knee on the bed and looked at your cunt as if it was the most precious thing he’s ever seen. He settled between your legs, curled his arms around your thighs and dived right in. With the tip of his nimble tongue, he slowly drew the shape of your lips before circling around your clit. Unlike your husband, Shane was a master of giving head, and was well versed on your pussy. Even after all this time, he still remembered what made you tick.

A shiver ran down your spine as the plane of his tongue licked long strokes from your entrance to your swollen bud.

You threw your head back when his lips wrapped around it. The vicious pressure of his lips around that bundle of nerves felt out of this world.

“God, I’ve missed you, Cielo,” you moaned, threading your fingers in his hair.

“You taste so fucking good,” he grunted ferociously against your folds as a response and all of a sudden he began to suck on you like a starving beast.

Your juices, just as before, leaked all over. It was ridiculous how much you could produce in such a short time. You could feel the fabric below your ass absorbing them.

All your bearings were quickly lost as he took you closer to the edge. All you could do is cry out in pleasure, and squirm as his grip tightened around you to keep your hips in place. You tugged hard on his hair to anchor yourself but all that did is prompting him to go even harder.

“Close… I'm so… fuck, Shane, please… please,” you couldn't stop begging with shallow breaths. Your core was on fire, and you desperately needed to come. “Yes, like that… Ahhh.”

Your legs suddenly clenched around his head a wave of wild bliss coursed through your body, from your center out in different directions. Your toes curled, your muscles shivered, your breathing faltered as your mind was temporarily blown into pure joy. You closed your eyes and let that all take you over your body for a few seconds.

Slowly coming back to your senses, your pussy tingled for a little longer than usual.

Shane was on his knees between your legs, massive erection in his hand when you opened your eyes to find him staring directly at you.

“Goddamn, Corazón. I wish I could take a picture of you like that. I've never seen you come like that for me,” he groaned, pumping his length. “Look how fat you made me.”

Softly laughing, you managed to lift your hand to help him. You replaced his fist with yours and felt the jerking of his firm dick in your palm. His girth was so wide, your thumb couldn't touch any of your other fingers in a curl.

You wondered how many pussies his cock fucked during the past few years. And without thinking or stopping your hand, you asked…

“Di, ¿cuántas zorras te has tirado con mi polla?” (Say, how many bitches have you fucked with my cock?)

“¿Tu polla?” he snorted. (Your cock?)

“Yes, just mine,” you winked as you kept your hand moving. “Dime la verdad o paro.” (Tell me the truth, or I’ll stop.)

“Hmm, no me tortures así, Corazón.” (Hmm, don’t torture me like that, Sweetheart.)

“Come on. Tell me,” you requested again.

“None,” he panted, unable to keep up with the rhythm of your hand. He had to brace a palm on the mattress to keep himself from falling. “You said it. Soy todo tuyo, mi vida. Te lo prometo.” (I’m all yours, my life. I promise.)

You smiled widely, pressing your teeth on your lower lip, as you enthusiastically got him to ejaculate all over your swollen belly. It was warm and sticky, and you couldn't help but spread it like butter all over your tight skin, and bring some of it again to your mouth as Shane’s body melted next to yours.

You turned to the side, pushing the pillows under your back aside, keeping one for your head.

Your fingers found his stubbled jaw as you tilted his face in your direction.

“You really haven't been with anyone since the last time I saw you?”

“No. Not like this, Darlin’. Don’t get me wrong, I fooled around with a couple of girls but nothing else. You know me better than that.”

“I'm not sure if that's still true.”

“Do you wanna know where I've been the last two years?”

You were afraid to find out, but your head nodded anyway.

“Prison,” he said without breaking eye contact.

“What for?”

“Possession. Bet you thought it was about time they caught up with me, huh?”

“No, I’ve never thought that, Shane. As much as I wanted to punish you sometimes, I never wished for that to happen. When did you get out?”

“Yesterday morning,” he smiled softly. “All I could think was you, so I got in the car and I drove all the way here without stopping.”

“You could've called me.”

“I couldn't.”

“Why not?”

“Cause you would've dropped everything to help me, and I couldn't put that on you.”

“I wish you had. I would've done anything…”

“I know.”

“I'd have waited for you.”

“I know that too, Corazón. Don't beat yourself up for it.”

Your phone dinged, and you blindly extended your hand to pick up from your nightstand. It was another update from Trent. They were playing beer pong like fucking frat guys, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“What’s that?” Shane asked.

“Oh, nothing, just checking on him. I’m keeping tabs on his friend’s Instagram to see that he’s still at the cabin.”

“No, not that. This,” Shane lifted your wrist as the soft light from the night lamp highlighted the mark on your forearm. “You didn't have this earlier. I told you my truth. Would you tell me yours?”

Placing your phone down, you pursed your lips, pondering why you’re still protecting that asshole.

“I… you were right earlier. I don’t really love him anymore. I don’t think I ever did. I just needed some stability and I thought he was it. This happened after you left. And this,” then you pointed to your temple, “he smacked me with the remote last night.”

“Why are you with someone like that? I thought–”

“You thought, what, that I had some self-respect? I used to. I think I did. It’s more complicated than you think. He wasn’t like that when I met him.”

“They hardly ever are.”

“He lost his job a few months ago and started drinking, it wasn’t until recently that he-”

“Stop. Don’t make excuses for him. Losing a job doesn’t give you the right to be an asshole and hit your wife or any woman at all. And drinking… I know a thing or two about getting wasted, and I never put my hand on you no matter how drunk I was.”

“You're right… I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Then, kick him out. Call the police. Get a restraining order. This is still your house, right?”

“Yeah, it is. But like I said – it’s more complicated than that. He has two cop friends. Best friends. They protect each other like fucking wolves. Last year, one of them killed a girl in a DUI, and he got nothing but a slap on the wrist. If I were to show up to ask for a restraining order, who do you think they’ll protect?”

“That’s fucking crazy. You can't live like that, baby.”

You sighted, combing the curls behind his ear. “Sometimes, when he goes away like this I think – this time he’d be too drunk to drive, and he’d end up going over a cliff, die upon impact and would never set foot in this house again. I keep closing my eyes at night and dreaming about it.”

Shane softly patted your hair back, and snuggled closer to you, wrapping you in his arms.

“I’m not gonna let him hurt you again. I promise, Corazón.”

“You don’t have to save me.”

“Lo sé, mi vida.”

Smiling against his chest, basking in the familiar scent of Shane, and feeling the big flutter of a kicking storm in your stomach. You held his hand and placed it on the side of your belly.

“She’s kicking. Can you feel that?”

“Yeah, I feel it. She? It’s a girl?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s strong. Does she have a name?”

“She does,” you placed your mouth over his ear, and whispered the name of your baby girl.

“That’s a beautiful name. She’s gonna kick ass, just like her mama.”

“I hope so,” your lips quirked up as you placed a small kiss on the corner of his mouth and confessed. “I wish she was yours.”

“I wish she was mine too.”

Your lips locked together once more as you rid yourself of all bad thoughts clouding your head. You only ever wanted Shane. It’s easier to forget how much you love him when he’s not around, and just as easier to remember that you’d die for him if you had to. As the intensity of the kiss rose, you shifted and straddled his waist. He watched you become a goddess as you rubbed yourself over his dick, getting it to fully harden.

“Are you in heat or something?” he laughed, holding your hips.

“It’s the hormones. What? Aren’t you up for the challenge, big guy?”

“Oh, I’m up, alright.”

You lifted your ass, held his cock and carefully sank onto it.

Rocking back and forth you propped your hands on his broad chest, so you could boost yourself up to bounce all over his massive erection. His hands held your ass to help you go faster.

When you caught him eyeing your big breast you bent over, holding one in your hand and put it over his mouth, so he can suck on it. His lips wrapped tight around your sensitive nipple and latched on it. You were growling at the wonderful sensation paired with his throbbing cock inside you.

“God, Corazón, you’re amazing, you feel so… “ He moaned as he switched to the other nipple.

This time his teeth scraped the surface, and you almost came at the surprise. You were so close you couldn’t help but bounce a little faster. You had to brace both hands again to keep up with the rhythm. The weight of your belly started to hinder your pace the closer you got to the edge.

“Help me,” you grabbed Shane's hand and put it on your clit, pleading with a cry, “I need it. Please.”

“I got you, baby. I got you.”

He rubbed viciously on your clit until you came with such force all your juices squirted all over him. Then the pleasure of your orgasm forced his own. His cocked jerked, and suddenly you were filled again with his delicious seed.

You didn’t hear Shane leaving after you fell asleep in his arms.

When you woke up to pee a couple of hours later, the clock marked 4AM, and he wasn't in your bed anymore. He had left the house altogether. You didn't have plans for the next day, but you weren't expecting him to leave that early in the morning either without saying goodbye.

There was a pang of disappointment in your chest as you went back to bed, but you closed your eyes, naively hoping he'd come back later.

It was your lucky day cause when you opened your eyes again, he was back and had brought breakfast with him. All our favorite plates were laid on the breakfast bar as he made a fresh batch of coffee.

“Where did you go, Cielo?” you asked in between bites.

“Went out for breakfast.”

“I can see that. I mean earlier. Woke up at 4 and you were gone.”

He took a long sip of his cup before responding, “I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a drive to clear my head.”

“It must be strange sleeping in a new bed.”

“Yeah, a little.”

“I have to work later. I can call in sick if you want–” you offered.

“No, baby, do what you gotta do. No te preocupes por mí.” (Don’t worry about me.)

“You can’t stay here, but I could still get you a room at the hotel if you’re tired.”

“Nah, do your thing, I’ll figure it out.”

“Would you… come later?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I’ll be here, Corazón,” he kissed your hair and picked up your phone from the counter, “unlock it. I’ll put in my new number, and you call me when you’re off. Yeah?”

“Prométeme que volverás,” you said before handing back the phone. (Promise that you’ll come back.)

“Lo prometo.” (I promise.)

After cleaning your plate you relaxed in bed for a little while, trying to get him to catch up with his sleep. There was no luck in that department cause he couldn't keep his eyes and hands off you. So once again, you found yourself in a trance of hormone-induced lust, and had Shane thrusting into you at full force from behind. Your ass was in the air, held in his broad palms, while you sobbed and moaned in pleasure against the pillow beneath your head. You desperately pushed back with your hips, taking him all in. Feeling every stroke, every inch and throb until your legs were left trembling and the fire in your core had spread through your whole body.

When you went off to work in the afternoon, it all seemed to become a hazy dream. It was all so intense that part of you thought it couldn't be real. But that was most of your relationship with Shane. Sometimes you couldn't help but feel you weren't enough for him. Him constantly leaving and breaking his promises was proof that you shouldn’t trust everything he says, but this time felt different. Maybe it was cause he was fresh out of prison, but you could tell that perhaps he was ready to stay out of trouble.

The first half of your shift went by quickly. You kept checking your phone like a maniac to make sure your husband stayed where he was supposed to, and luckily he did. If he wasn’t afraid of hurting you, you weren’t afraid of hurting him back, but you were indeed scared of him finding out about you and your old flame regardless.

You were at the front desk when Shane came in an hour before your shift ended to ask for a room. He needed a place to stay after all, and as the manager you managed pretty well to comp him a room for a couple of days. He carried his scarce luggage that consisted of just a duffle bag to his room, took a shower and waited for your shift to end.

Shane was half asleep when you finished work and knocked on his door. It was easy to see that he was utterly spent, so you didn’t make him drive back to the house. Instead, you stayed with him for the night. You trimmed his curls and shaved his face. Then, you took a long bath together like old times.

“Are you going to stay this time?” you asked once you got into bed.

You faced the other under covers and didn't talk louder than a whisper.

“I don't have anywhere else to go, baby.”

“Does that mean that you're done hustling?”

“I gotta. I don't have any other choice than to be done. Next time it could be 20 or 30 or life. I think I've tempted fate way too many times and got away with more than I should've. I had a lot of time to think and realized none of it mattered. Didn't care about the money. It was just… I don’t know, the power I guess. And I missed on a lot of time with you, and now I have nothing to show for. I don't really know what I'm gonna do, but I'm done with all that. All I know is that I just wanna be with you.”

“I…” your words caught up in your throat, as you tried to convey and process what he said at the same time. “I wanna believe that's true, but you've said you were done before and always felt right back into it.”

“This time is different. I can promise you that I'm not going anywhere this time. Cross my heart.”

Your lips softly pulled up at the corners as you placed your hand over your name's tattoo on his chest.

Regardless of his promise, you’d always have some reservations when it comes to him. Until he really proves it, there’s nothing stripping all those doubts he’s ingrained in you over the years.

When you woke up in the middle of the night he was gone like the night before. This time there was a note saying that he had gone out for a drive and signed it with – I love you, Corazón.

By the time you got up this time he hadn't come back. It didn't worry you though. You just went on with your day, drove back home to take a shower and run some errands before your next shift.

You weren't exactly sure what was going to happen next. You couldn't just jump into Shane's arms after all this time and pretend nothing ever happened. If this was really happening you had to make sure that was true to his word and figure out how he’d fit into your life when you were about to have a baby.

But most importantly, there was something you had to do first. Something that you should’ve done a long time ago and that was leaving your husband. You had been subjected to verbal and mental abuse for months that gradually turned into physical abuse. No matter how much it scared you, it was time to put your foot down and protect not only yourself but your daughter. She couldn’t be raised around him. And Shane or no Shane, it was something you couldn’t keep brushing aside hoping it’ll get better. It was easier to think about it than to actually do it. You weren’t sure how to start. Like you told Shane, going to Lafayette’s Police Department wasn’t an option. But maybe giving Rick a call and asking him for some guidance could be the first step of many.

You pinned that thought for the next day and went back to work a little earlier than usual. It was Sunday afternoon, and you dreaded that Clayton would be coming back later. So you decided to pay Shane a visit before work.

“You know, being here with you this weekend… it’s been the best thing that’s ever happened in a long time, Sweetheart.”

“Well, anything can beat spending two years in prison.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, mi vida. I mean it. I just hope you can forgive me someday for everything I’ve done. There’s a lot of shit you don’t know about that I wanna tell you but…”

He lowered his stare.

“Shane… I… If what you say it’s true, if you prove that I can count on you and that you’re not going back to all that, I’d never hold anything against you. That’s my promise. Whatever you did, you’ve done your time, right?”

“Right,” he picked up your hand and kissed your knuckles before smoothing his palm on your baby bump.

“I can come back later, just for a little while before going home.”

“If you feel like it, I’ll be here, Corazón. Always. No matter what happens.”

He said kind of ominously before you left the room. His tone was certainly different from the night before, he could barely look you in the eye as you said goodbye.

It really puzzled you as you went back to your desk. Maybe he was just tired or perhaps, he was actually feeling the weight of all his actions at once and was actually remorseful. You definitely hadn’t seen that look in his face before that afternoon.

On a quiet evening, when you thought this weekend couldn’t bring more surprises, there was something else that turned your world upside down when two of Clayton’s friends showed up at the front desk. It was the two cops, Simon and Paulie, or Prick One and Prick Two as you called them, asking you for a private place to talk.

You took them into the office where they asked you to sit down, so they could break the news of your husband’s death. It was hard to hear, no matter how many times you’ve fantasized about it, it seemed impossible and your first reaction when they told you he drove over a cliff was to burst into laughter.

“You guys are joshing, right?” you scoffed, and their faces remained unchanged, dead serious. “That can’t be right. He was with you the whole time. I saw it in Trent’s fucking pictures.”

“I’m really sorry, sweetheart. It’s true. We ran out of ice, and he said he was going to the gas station for more and never returned last night. We didn’t find him until this morning… we weren’t sure it was him until they got down to get him. That’s why we waited to tell you.”

“Ice? He went out for ice?” You gritted in disbelief.

“He was pretty wasted. We all were, but you know how he was, once he got something in his head…”

“That’s the last thing he said before leaving.”

“But we believe there was something else that I rather you hear from us than on the news. They found a bag with amphetamines and cocaine in his truck.”

“After he lost his job he was desperate and, we kinda knew that he was selling to-”

They kept spitting out information that didn’t seem feasible to you until you snapped.

“Stop, stop, stop,” you said stiffly, holding your palms up for a moment before getting up from your chair. “Everything you’re saying doesn’t make any sense. He’s many things, but he’s not a fucking drug dealer.”

Though it’d explain some things, you couldn’t believe Clayton had turned into that.

“You kinda knew? That’s bullshit. You either were fully aware of what he was up to or you two are the dumbest cops I’ve ever met. You just don’t – kinda knew –” you threw big air quotes at their own words.

“Hey!” Simon raised his voice for just a second before his partner motioned at him to have some tact.

“We know you’re hurting, sweetheart. It’s a lot to process, but we’re here for whatever you need. Clay would’ve wanted us to help you.”

A lot to process was an understatement.

You looked out the window and saw Shane’s jeep parked in the lot, and it dawned on you. It wasn’t an accident or a coincidence… It was Shane. He killed him. It was as clear as day. You told him about your fantasy of Clayton falling from a cliff the other night, and he made that happen. He murdered him in your name and these two clowns were obviously too stupid to figure that out.

It made you sick to your stomach to think about it and you had to fight not to throw up right on the spot.

“Do I need to identify the body? Is he…?” you couldn’t even imagine what he would look like. All you could think about is the last time you saw him when he grabbed your arm, that same arm you unconsciously were gripping to as hard as he did.

“We can take care of that. You don’t have to see him like that.”

You simply nodded as vile rose to your throat, “there’s a lot… If you could… I need to be alone for a minute.”

“We understand. Call us if you need anything.”

They left the office and the first thing you did when the door was closed was hurl everything you had eaten earlier in the wastebasket.

Beads of sweat covered your forehead and chest when you came out of the office. Your boss dismissed you from work and instead of going home, you went straight to Shane’s room for answers. What he said earlier about forgiveness of all the things he’s done suddenly made a lot of sense. He wasn’t talking about three years ago, he was talking about what he had done last night.

When he opened the door, your cheeks were already covered in tears, as rage just fired through your body. You couldn’t voice anything other than a “how could you….” as you shoved him back several times with all the strength you could muster until his back was pressed against the wall.

You didn’t have to say much cause he was aware that you knew that he indeed had killed Clayton. He fucking knew that sooner or later you were going to find out.

“Lo siento, mi vida. De verdad que lo siento…” (I’m sorry, my life. I truly am sorry…)

He wasn’t in fact sorry at all, he was sorry that he hurt you, but he wasn’t carrying an ounce of guilt from killing your husband in cold blood.

“He had to go. I’m sorry. I couldn’t just let him hurt you again, you gotta know that.”

“No. You’re not putting this on me. You did that cause you’re a selfish piece of shit. I shouldn’t’ve…”

“C’mon, you practically begged me the other day. Why would you tell me that you kept dreaming of him dying if you didn’t want me to do something about it?”

“It’s called being vulnerable. You caught me at a bad time and took advantage of it. I’m sick of men like you and him making the rules as they go.”

“I didn’t make any rules. I did what I had to cause you didn’t have the guts to kick him out of your life.”

“I had a plan… I was going to… and you…” you kept losing the ability to put your thoughts together.

“Babe, I don’t care if you hate me for as long as I live but, I’m gonna sleep tonight like a baby knowing that that asshole won’t ever touch you again.”

“Is that easy for you, huh?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t feel just one bit relieved that you won’t have to see him ever again. Di la verdad.” (Tell the truth.)

You shook your head, and swallowed the hard pill of his words. He was partly right. As shocking as it was, you knew that after all this, you’d be glad he was gone.

“It doesn’t matter, Shane. What you did was evil.”

“I did it cause I love you.”

“No, you did it cause you wanted to.”

“I didn’t wanna, I swear. For the first time… I didn’t wanna do something like this, trust me.”

“Trust you? I don’t think you deserve that.”

“You should go home and rest…. Once this is over you’ll see more clearly that this had to happen.”

“See more clearly? You’re the one with tunnel vision, Shane. If you can admit that what you did was fucking wrong, then there’s nothing else to say here. We’re done.”

“I’m not saying it wasn’t wrong. I know it was. But the only thing that matters to me is that you and your baby are safe. And if they lock me up for it, so be it. I don't fucking care. I wasn't gonna sit down and watch him hurt you again.”

“I… I really don't know what you expect me to do with all this. You killed, not just someone… you killed my husband. How can you sit down and pretend that everything will be fine? How are you gonna live with that?”

“Wasn't really the first time. I told you there was a lot you didn't know about.”

“That doesn't make me feel any better. I said I wouldn't hold anything against you, but this is too much, Shane.”

“I know.”

“No matter what he did, he didn't deserve…” you started but immediately realized you didn't even believe your own thoughts. He did deserve to die. Just not like this, perhaps. “Is there any way this could be traced to you, to us?”

“No, I covered all my tracks.”

“Are you sure?”

“Do you want me to give you the rundown?”

“If someone finds out…”

“Nobody's gonna find out. I promise.”

“Tú y tus malditas promesas. Sigues siendo el mismo cabrón.” (You and your damn promises. You’re still the same bastard.)

“Hey, mírame y dime, en tu corazón de corazones ¿De veras crees eso?” (Look at me and tell me, in your heart of hearts, do you really believe that?)

You glanced at him, but you couldn't focus enough to tell or understand what you believed anymore. Your head sunk into your shoulders in defeat before taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Was he really selling drugs or did you plant them?”

“I didn't plant anything. I have no idea what he was up to. I just followed him with my car and made sure he went…”

“How did you know where he was?”

“You showed me where they were in that photo the other night. Their dumbasses even tagged the location.”

“Did anyone see you?”

“So you want the rundown after all.”

“Just wanna make sure… I don’t know anymore… I don’t know why I care at all,” you tiredly held your forehead on your palms.

“Look, the less you know the better. They won’t come after you. I’ll make sure of that… but to answer your question, no, nobody saw me. I used a different car, I scooped up the place the night before and just waited… I thought I’d have to do it when they were all asleep but, when he got into his truck I saw my chance.”

“Ya es suficiente.” (That’s enough.)

You promptly stood up as you were torn in different directions inside. Turning your back on him, your hand reached for the door handle. “You should leave town while you can. I won’t tell anyone… but I can’t see you anymore.”

“So this is it? This is how it ends?”

“I don’t know… I just can’t really look at you right now. You put my life upside down in two days, Shane.”

“I’m so sorry for that. I really am. But I hope one day you have it in your heart to forgive me… I… I won’t be going anywhere. If you need me, I’m just one call away, Corazón.”

You didn’t look back, didn’t even glance over your shoulder one last time to see him as you stepped out of the room.

Emotionally and physically exhausted you drove home as your brain switched on autopilot. The next few days were hazy and draining. As soon as the body was released for burial you got the funeral out of the way quickly. It didn't surprise you that it was ruled as an accident, with the levels of alcohol in his blood and the drugs in the truck didn’t leave room for questioning foul play. And the worst part of it all, and that Shane was right, you didn’t feel bad at all for his death.

Though Shane left the hotel you worked at, he stayed in town. You saw his car parked by the diner the day you returned to work.

He stayed away. More than once you thought he’d come up out of the blue and show up on your porch, and you’d be too weak to deal with him again. But He didn’t even dare to call or text again after that day.

It wasn’t until three or so weeks later, when you started feeling more like your old self, you began going through Clayton’s stuff. There wasn’t really anything you wanted to keep, so you threw most of it in the donation pile and called it a day. There was one thing though, that you couldn’t sort, and it was the storage cabinet he had padlocked in the garage. You went through every drawer and pocket to find a key to it, but there was no luck. Maybe it was lost in the mountains with him, you thought. Then, as much as you wanted to avoid that, you had no choice but to search the bag you were given with the personal belongings he had during the ‘accident’. There you found the key attached to his keychain.

At that point, nothing surprised you anymore when you opened the cabinet to find a backpack filled with prescription pills and other drugs you didn’t recognize. Along with it there was also some cash, a gun with a box of ammo, his work tools, a pair of utility boots, and a few magazines.

Perhaps that’s the excuse you needed to see Shane again, who fucking knows, but for whatever reason you picked up the phone and called him. Without going into detail about your findings, you asked him to come over to look at your car instead and he did. A couple of hours later, as the sun went down, he knocked on your door.

“I’m glad you called,” he said.

“Follow me,” you requested dryly, as you guided him into the garage. With the door shut down to the driveway, you opened the cabinet and showed him. “Can you get rid of this?”

“Is this yours?” He scanned the bag of stash. “Have you been hiding a side hustle?”

“No, asshole. It was his. I’ve just found it and I don’t know what to do with it. Do I call the police?”

“Don’t. Please don’t do that,” he pleaded. “I’ve been watching those two, you know his friends, and they were in it too.”

“How do you know?”

“Cause I know. Why do you think they were so quick to rule it as an accident? They turned him into his errand boy. He didn't just go out for ice, he was making a drop that night. Those fucking pictures they kept posting? Those are their alibis.”

Short of breath, you took a step back and leaned against the hood of your car. “I don’t wanna know any of it. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. I’m tired of all this, Shane… I want it to be over.”

“Sorry… I… yeah, I’ll get rid of it.”

“What about the gun?”

He picked it up and made a thorough inspection making sure that it wasn’t loaded.

“I’ll take care of it too.”

“Wait, if it’s registered, shouldn’t I just turn it over or something?”

“Ghost gun. Has no serial number, see?” He turned it around and pointed at the side to show there was indeed no number where it was supposed to. “In normal circumstances, you could say you just found it, but in this case… I wouldn’t do it.”

“Got it. Just do what you have to do. Get rid of the cash too, I need all of it gone.”

“Now, hold on, there's like 8 G's here. You should keep that.”

“It's drug money, I don't want it.”

“Yeah, but you could use it for something good. Buy something for you or the baby.”

“I don't need it, I was doing pretty good without his money. I won't be able to use it without thinking about where it came from. I never took yours, I'm not gonna take his now.”

“Think it's for a good cause. Like it or not, he was her father, you could open a savings account for her. Don't let it go to waste, sweetheart. You might need it someday.”

“I… Sure. I guess you're right.”

“I could get you a good price on that bag too. I'm thinking about 5-”

“No, I don't want you to risk it. Just get rid of it. Burn it, bury it, toss it somewhere far away from here.”

“Are you sure? The Dixons owe me one, I could get them to–”

“I'm not gonna bend on this one Shane. I mean it. Stay away from the Dixons. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Alright, I’ll just get rid of it. But y’know I’m taking a huge risk getting this off your hands.”

“Oh.”

“So, are you sure you want me to? If they find me with this, I could get locked up again.”

“Ya empezamos… ¿Quieres algo a cambio?” You huffed, crossing your arms firmly over your belly. (Here we go… You want something in return?)

“No, I mean… I just wanna see you for a coffee sometime.”

“Told you, I don’t drink coffee.”

“It doesn't have to be coffee.”

“I’m too tired to do this again Shane. Do it or don’t. I don’t care. After you’ve put me through… no tienes derecho a pedir nada.” (You have no right to ask for anything.)

“Lo siento. Tenía que intentarlo. Can you blame me?” (I’m sorry. Had to try.)

“Yes, I can.”

“Okay, I set myself up for that one,” he huffed, and looked at the bag in his hand, and reiterated. “I’ll take care of this, don’t worry about it. No strings attached.”

“Thank you.” It took you a moment to say it, but you did. “So, you’re not leaving town. You’re not scared of being found out?”

“No, I’m not scared of being found out.”

“And what’s your plan now?”

“I meant what I saw the other day. I'm staying. I got a job at Jim’s. He’s letting me use the trailer behind the shop to save some money. And that’s my plan for now. Why? Thought you didn’t care.”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

“No? It seems like you awfully care a lot about what happens to me for someone who says doesn’t give a fuck.”

“I was just curious, Shane. You can just go, we don’t have to keep talking.”

“But I like talking to you.”

“I know you do. That’s the only thing you have over me. Every time you open your mouth… you’re just one step closer to…”

“What? Changing your mind?”

“It’s not a good thing.”

“As I see it, it’s the best thing.”

“Of course you do.”

“Okay, let me ask you just one more thing, and then I’ll go.”

“Okay, one.”

“If someone you loved was treated like you were–”

“Shane… don’t.”

“Lemme finish, please. If someone you loved was treated like you were, wouldn’t you do something about it? What if it was one of your friends? What if it was me… or what if an asshole in 20 years treated your daughter like that? Would you just stand by and do nothing?”

“That’s not a fair question. You’re playing on my emotions right now. Of course, I’d do something about it.“

“Then, why is it different? Would you kill for me if I was in danger?”

“That’s more than one question.”

“Would you?”

“I don’t know. I guess it depends on the situation. Once upon a time, if you had asked me that, I’d say yes, I’d have killed anyone for you.”

“¿Y ahora?” (And now?)

“No lo sé… I have something more pressing on my hands right now. I’m not alone anymore,” you glanced at your baby bump. “The difference between you and me is that I have to consider that what I do affects her.”

“Guess I should’ve thought that.”

“You should’ve.”

“We could still make it work. Maybe not now. But maybe someday when you can look at me again without seeing what I did. What do you think?”

“I think you’ve gone over the limit of questions you said you were going to ask, and my head is starting to hurt. But you know that I’ll never rule anything out between you and me. We’re both a lost cause. And if you really stay out of trouble and keep your word, who knows? Maybe one day I’ll change my mind.”

“That’s all I needed to hear, Corazón.”

Shane closed the backpack and slung it on his shoulder.

“Be careful with that.”

“Don't worry about me.”

His hand carefully slid on the side of your neck as Shane pressed his lips to your forehead. It lingered, once again making you feel as weak as the day you met him. It made you question whether to push him away or just give in to old habits. You've accepted that no matter what he did, you'd never be able to get rid of him.

You tentatively held his jaw between your palms, and stared at his lips for a beat before returning the kiss. It was soft and quick cause you didn't want to delve too fast and make it feel like a reward.

“I'll see you around,” you offered. That's the best you could do for now.

#shane walsh #shane walsh x reader #jon bernthal #jon bernthal smut #jon bernthal fanfiction #twd fanfiction #twd #the walking dead #fanfiction #smut #angst #pregnant reader #spanish reader #darlingwrites

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nickfowlerrr · 6 months

Text

your forever is all that i need.

pairing: max burnett x curvy!reader

warnings: angst! smut! some fluff! 18+ ONLY. kinda soft!dark max if you squint. warnings not exhaustive but if something needs to be tagged, pls lmk!

words: 7.8k

notes: this guy has been sitting in my drafts waiting to be finished for months and i finally got it done. i think i like it 🥲 i hope you will, too! please let me know what you think. 🖤

thank you in advance for reading. as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated.

You keep your head down, the baseball cap you’re wearing pulled low to aid your attempt at keeping your face concealed. The duffel bag you keep a tight grip on swings slightly with each step you take down the long, empty hallway of the apartment complex.

You reach the door leading to the stairwell and make your way down the steps until you finally get to ground level.

Pushing the lone metal door open ever so slightly, you peek out and make sure you’re still in the clear. No one's around. You walk through and head straight for the gate that leads you out to the parking garage.

You can feel your heart racing, your adrenaline pumping as you cross the lot. Lines of cars, but not another soul in sight.

You get the urge to look back over your shoulder as you walk but you fight against it and keep on to the car.

You’ve missed his call twice already and you just need to get out of the city before you can muster up the courage to call him back..

You unlock the doors with the click of a button as you approach. Your eyes leave the car for maybe two seconds as you pass a large cement pillar, looking down to fish your phone out of the deep pocket of your coat.

There’s a blur in your peripheral.

You look back up, your heart seizes in your chest, and you gasp as you halt in your path.

You suddenly find yourself mere inches from him as he stands before you, his gaze harsh as he stares daggers into you.

His jaw is set, eyes dark as you do nothing but stare back stupidly. Where did he come from?

"Fuck, Max," you say with a heavy breath, "you scared the hell outta me."

You try and calm yourself, playing it cool. You wait for him to respond, to say something, but he doesn't. The pit in your stomach only grows deeper at his silence.

You lift your phone in your hand, doing a show of waving it at him, "I was just about to call you," you lie effortlessly.

Still, he says nothing. Eyes narrowing as he takes you in, his gaze falling to the bag in your hand.

You swallow your nerves, praying he doesn't notice, as you step to him. His hands are in his pockets as he stands tall, still looking down at your own. Your gaze is set on him, not for a second straying from his face as you stand before him, nearly pressing yourself against him; trying to search his eyes, urging him to meet your own.

When he finally does, a shiver runs down your spine, though you're not sure of its cause.

Fear, worry, or maybe just the proximity to him that you hadn't had in a while.

Maybe something else...

His eyes are nearly black with how blown out his pupils are and the intensity of his gaze has you even more taken aback than you were a moment ago.

You can't let it show, though.

"Hi," you draw out, brows raised in faux confusion. As if you have no idea why he's acting so off. But of course you do.

He must know.

God, of course he knows.

But he hasn’t said anything. So still, you keep up the charade.

You drop the duffle lightly and wrap your arms around him as you look up at him. You're so close, so much so that you couldn't possibly get any closer - but that doesn't stop you from trying as you lean up on your tiptoes, chin tilted upward with a delicate pout playing on your lips.

He eyes you, his hands still in his pockets as he does nothing but watch.

You brush your lips against his softly, not expecting him to kiss back - and he doesn't - but he doesn't stop you, either.

You deflate, despite the expectedness of his lack of response, and let your feet meet the ground again as you tilt your head innocently at him, arms still wrapped around him.

"Max," you scoff lightly, a hint of a question in your tone. "Hey, I'm sorry I missed your call, but I really was just about to call you back," you try to defend yourself.

He stares for another unnerving moment before finally he responds,

"Calls," he corrects harshly. "Plural."

Your lips part as if you're going to speak, but you don't. Instead, you pull away from him, your brows furrowing. You let your eyes scan over his face, trying to assess him.

"Why does that sound accusatory?" you ask, letting your taken offense be known.

"What's in the bag?" he asks sharply, ignoring your question.

You stare one another down for a long moment. The thundering of your heart only grows louder in your ears as you do.

You were nervous before, scared more of what you were planning than of what his reaction would be to it. You didn’t want to tell him face to face, not because you thought he’d be truly upset but because you knew you’d back out if given the chance - whether Max cared or not.

But he was here now.

And he's upset?

If he knows, then is this him trying to… stop you?

If it is, great.

You're fucked.

Your plan is completely and totally fucked.

All of this, or at least the courage you had to attempt it, hinged on the fact that you wouldn’t have to see him, to be this close to him, again.

Your willpower around Max was near nothing and you knew that.

Maybe you could just take your bag and go. Would he really try all that hard to keep you here? You doubted it.

You both move in the same instant, but he's faster.

As you were reaching to grab the bag, Max planted a heavy foot on it, keeping it on the ground and out of your hands.

Your eyes dart from his shoe back up to his face. You take a deep breath as you stand straight and keep his gaze.

Well damn. It’s starting to seem like he cares.

But still, you need to get out, you remind yourself.

You can work this. There's always a way out.

You aren't thinking a plan through, not fully, you just start talking. It’s instinct. Stay in character. Never give yourself away.

He taught you that.

"I was just gonna open it for you," you say, aggrieved.

You stay still as he slowly reaches down to grab the duffle himself, his eyes never leaving you.

You watch him right back, refusing to let your discontent show.

All that’s in there is what little personal belongings and clothes you have. It doesn’t mean or prove anything. Can’t confirm or deny whatever it is he thinks you were planning on doing.

And maybe, well maybe you don’t have to go… You can just pretend this never happened. Prove him wrong and keep up like you had no intention to leave in the first place.

Fuck, it hasn’t been a minute and you’re losing it already.

"Well," you prompt him, "open it."

He considers you and you take note of the way he grips the bag in his hand, his knuckles nearly white, his hand is clenched so hard.

"Go to the car."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at his command and move to walk to your car before his voice stops you.

"No," he grits out, "my car."

You look over in the direction he motions toward and see it, the sleek black Benz you somehow missed is parked across the way, but still on. You glance back to Max and he's already walking to it. You know you don't have a choice, not really, so you follow.

He throws your bag into the back and suddenly turns on you when you get closer, stopping you from rounding the car to get in on the passenger side.

You find your back pressed up against the vehicle as he closes in on you, jolting you a bit as he pushes you back, stealing the air from your lungs. He rips the hat off your head and throws it on the ground carelessly as he nearly snarls his words.

"How stupid do you think I am, huh?"

Your mind goes completely blank as you're stunned.

You've never seen Max this angry before, his apathy - though you hated it - was the norm. Or had been for the last six months or so. You hadn't seen him react to anything with any real care at all, not even you, in about as long. And never had you seen a real reaction from him to such a degree as this.

His anger and proximity were the only things you could focus on. That and the scent of his cologne that was invading your senses. Vaguely you register the longing for him that you’d been suppressing, the familiar scent you’d missed since having been away from him making you a bit dizzy as he crowded you.

"You know I know every trick in the book. I'm the one who taught them to you. So who are you trying to hide from? Who are you trying to run from? Because if I didn't know any better, angel, I'd think it was me." His hand is on your chin as he holds your face, his other planted next to your head as he keeps you against the car. "But I know better, don't I, baby," he smirks coldly.

You blink, lost in the torrent storms of his blue eyes, before forcing yourself to nod.

"Say it," he seethes, smile gone just as quickly as it had appeared.

"You know better," you say obediently in a near whisper as your chest brushes against his with your every breath.

He nods, leaning in closer, resting his forehead against your own for the briefest of moments before placing a chaste kiss on your skin as you shudder at the contact. His lips are by your ear now as he exhales heavily through his nose, "So do you," he tsks before dropping his hands and taking a step back as you stay where you are, eyes wide.

After a second, he motions with his head, signaling for you to move. He lets his tongue wet his lips and sniffs, "Get in."

You do as you're told, no arguing. There's no point.

You fall to him.

You’ll fall to him every time.

The second you close the car door behind you, Max peels out of the garage.

You look in the side mirror as your hat, the car, and your foolish plan to leave alone all slowly fade away.

You buckle yourself in as he speeds down the street.

You could chide yourself for your stupidity but, you really weren't all that stupid about this. You kind of knew, deep down, he'd know; that he'd see it coming a mile away. You just really didn't think he'd care.

You thought he had stopped caring a while ago. That he’d just let you go.

It was a simple plan. You'd just finished the job, Max had the money. You were supposed to meet up with him back home, the closest thing to one you'd had, and get resettled. For the time being, at least.

But you had other things in mind.

Your stage apartment, the place you'd been living for almost half a year now, didn't hold much - but neither did your duffle bag. Just the necessities. Always.

You cleared out nicely, still had the old car Max got for the job, and had enough cash to get out of the city and to last you for a while while you'd try to get settled somewhere new.

You had enough practice being someone different, becoming someone else for the sake of the job, you were sure starting fresh away from here would be easy compared to what you'd been doing the past three years.

And you were sure Max wouldn't care. He'd certainly given you that impression.

That he was over you. That he couldn’t care less.

You were tired. and sad. and lonely.

You never thought you could feel that way with him. It tore at you, the hurt threatened to dismantle you completely.

He was so close, but so, so far.

That’s what hurt the most.

He was right there, but he acted like you weren’t. You thought you’d done something wrong at first. You still remember the first night you kissed him and he just… didn’t kiss back.

You pretended you didn’t notice his lack of reciprocation but you quickly whispered a goodnight before you eventually cried yourself to sleep while he stayed out in the living room on his laptop.

He didn’t even bother to mutter a goodnight back.

With each month it only got worse.

He’d stop by your apartment less and less and would always be out when you tried to stop by his.

You realized maybe you hadn’t done anything, maybe he was just done with you. But he didn’t end things. No, he needed you. For now, at least. Until you finished the job, or maybe until he stumbled onto someone new.

You remember all he told you about his old partners. He was burned once and he’d be damned if he ever let that happen again.

You’d taken his face in your hands, peering into the depths of his deep blue eyes and swore to him he’d never have to worry about that with you.

And you were keeping your promise, weren’t you? You hadn’t tried to screw him over. You finished the job, made sure he got the score. All you were doing was leaving him to his own devices, the way he clearly preferred it. If anything, you were doing him a favor. Seeing yourself out so he wouldn’t have to end things himself.

Because, really, what were you supposed to do if not leave and put you both out of your misery? You couldn't take it anymore.

You loved him so much.

You love him so much.

You don’t want to leave but you can’t stay. Not like this. You’d rather miss him by being hundreds of miles away than miss him while he keeps you just a room away. And you couldn’t be there when he’d inevitably find that someone new. You couldn’t just wait for the final sword to be pierced through your heart.

You wouldn’t be able to live through it.

The tension is thick as you sit silently, looking listlessly out the tinted window while the city passes by you in a blur.

It’s not until Max gets on the highway that you realize you aren’t going home. You look over to him, staring for a moment as you try to keep your heart from racing. You aren’t scared, just concerned. You don’t like not knowing.

“Where are we going?” you ask after a long few seconds.

He doesn’t respond, his face still stony as his anger radiates off of him. He puts on music without sparing you a glance and you take it as your cue to be quiet. He’s too angry to talk right now, and though he’s pissed at you, he doesn’t want to snap on you.

It’s almost midnight, the lanes all across the road almost completely empty as he keeps on driving. You give up guessing where you’re headed to after he passes the last exit you recognize without getting off and resign yourself to the unknown.

You look out at the dark sky, the stars glowing brighter the further away from the city you get.

You find some solace in that.

As you rest your head against the window, your eyelids begin to feel heavy as your breathing slows.

You try to fight off the sleepiness as it threatens to take you down, but it's to no avail. Within a minute, you're sleeping as Max continues down the highway.

—

You startle awake at the honking of a semi truck, jolting up from where you lay on the reclined passenger seat. When did you do that? You blink your bleary eyes open as the sun shines brightly outside. You recognize you’re still in the car as you unbuckle your seatbelt and sit up, fixing the seat when you do.

You swallow thickly and unpleasantly as you cringe. You feel gross and a little disoriented from the heat of the sun combined with the weight of your long sleep.

You look around and realize you’re at a gas station. Checking the time, you find it’s already past seven. You’re surprised that you’ve slept so long, and that Max had driven for the same time. It dawns on you then that you have no idea where you are, and after seven hours of driving, you’re even more confused than you were last night.

Max isn’t at the pump, so you figure he must be inside.

You get out of the car, rubbing your eyes before you make your way across the lot and into the store.

You see him right away as he stands at the coolers grabbing water. On your way to him, you stop at the small toiletry section and grab a cheap disposable toothbrush.

You approach him carefully as he turns and spots you, waiting for you to get to him.

“Hey,” you say awkwardly, not knowing what else to go with. “I just need the bathroom, I’ll meet you back at the car.”

You don’t wait for a response, not sure he’d even planned on giving you one, as you head toward the big sign labeling the restrooms.

You quickly find a stall and relieve yourself. As you wash your hands at the sink, you can’t help but cringe at your reflection. Your makeup from yesterday is smudged and you look a little crazy, admittedly. You are feeling more well rested, though, so there’s at least one thing to be thankful for. You never slept well alone, and despite the physical discomfort of sleeping nearly eight hours in a car, this was the first time in months you’d gotten more than four hours of sleep without disturbance.

You open the package and take out the ninety nine cent toothbrush with the toothpaste already included. You run the bristles under the water for a second before you quickly brush your teeth. You really just want the feeling of sleep out of your mouth. You scrub at your tongue before spitting out the remnants of the sudsy paste and swirling with a bit of water.

The toothbrush does its job but doesn’t leave you with the minty feeling you were hoping for. As you toss the brush and the ripped packaging in the trash on your way out of the bathroom, you debate snagging a travel size mouthwash on your way out.

You stop in your path as you walk by a display of sunglasses. You don’t know what it is about the stand that somehow takes you back but you find yourself wondering when the last time you were in a gas station was. It’s silly, but you think it’s been a long while.

You look around and don’t see Max, but when you glance out the large glass window, you find him putting gas at the pump. His brilliant blue eyes hidden behind his dark, name brand glasses.

You turn and start looking at the cheap sunglasses, grabbing a pair of pink bedazzled ones and trying them on. You laugh at yourself in the small mirror before grabbing another pair to try on.

You go through five or six different styles before you settle on a simple, sleek black pair.

You aren’t sure how much longer you’ll be in the car, but you know you don’t want the sun shining in your eyes.

Before walking up to the counter, you wander around the aisles a bit, glancing outside every so often to ensure Max is still there.

You smile at the soda fountain and though you’re tempted to get the largest size they have, you know you’ll be lucky if Max lets you bring even the small one into his car without a complaint.

You fill the 12 oz cup with crushed ice and some raspberry iced tea, taking a sip before filling it back up and snapping on the plastic lid.

You don’t know why you’re feeling so free.. giddy, almost. It’s a stark difference from last night, and so far from anything you’ve felt these last few months, too.

It’s nice, not feeling so sad. And the more you wake up, the lighter you feel.

You mindlessly drink your tea as it cools you with each sip you take.

You glance out the window and see Max putting the cap back on the gas tank, so you quickly make your way to checkout.

You set down your drink and the glasses and fish in your pocket for the crumpled twenty you know you had.

As you pull it out and try to straighten it, the young blonde cashier speaks.

“Glasses are buy one get one right now,” she tells you as she rings you up, popping her gum.

“Oh, nice. Thanks,” you say as you flit back over to the stand. You knew which pair you were gonna grab the moment she let you know about the deal.

You smile as you grab them and hand them to her to scan when you get closer.

“It’s gonna be $11.14. You want a bag?”

“Uh, yes, please. And can I get two of those scratchers, too?” you ask pointing to the glimmering black and silver dollar scratch offs. She hums in affirmation as she pulls two for you and adds them to your total.

You hand her the twenty and grab the bag and your drink before pocketing the change when she gives it to you.

“Have a good one,” she bids you.

“Thanks,” you smile, “you, too.”

You walk to the car and pull your jacket off before you climb in as Max starts the engine.

He eyes your drink and bag but doesn’t say anything as you throw your jacket into the back and then buckle your seatbelt.

“I got you water,” he finally says after a moment.

You look at him in return, “thanks,” you say softly. There’s still some tension lingering between you, but it doesn’t feel as harsh as it had last night. This right here is the problem. When you’re together, everything is better. Even when it isn’t.

“Are you gonna tell me where we’re going now?” you ask, watching him closely.

He starts driving, heading out of the lot and back onto the highway.

The sun blinds you as you shield your eyes and quickly fish out the bejeweled pair of pink sunglasses you’d gotten free.

Max looks over to you briefly before returning his gaze to the road and your heart soars as he smiles to himself at your glasses.

“We’re less than an hour away,” he answers you without really answering you.

“You drove all night?”

“Yeah. You know I don’t mind a long drive. I have patience,” he says the last word more harshly as he adjusts his grip on the wheel.

There it is, you think to yourself.

Of course he wasn’t letting it go so quickly. He’d bring it up when he was ready to talk about it, and as he shifted his complete focus back to the road, you knew that time wasn’t now.

You watched as his jaw ticked slightly and you sighed to yourself.

Grabbing your cup, you took small sips from the straw, enjoying the way the drink went down. Cool, sweet, and smooth.

It relaxed you, easing the twisting of your stomach.

You settled in your seat and pulled out your phone.

You weren’t surprised by the lack of notifications; there wasn’t really anyone you kept in constant contact with, aside from Max.

As you looked up out the window, you were struck by the beauty that surrounded you. Gorgeous trees lined either side of the highway, and it was hitting you now how far away from the city you really were.

Max gets off at the next exit and you’re even more surprised by the naturescape you find yourself driving through. You’re on a two way road now and there’s no other cars in sight. As the road winds up and up, the sun is blocked out by the trees. Only glimmers of sunlight streaming through them every now and again as you continue on. You push up your glasses and look over to Max as he keeps driving, looking more relaxed once again.

It isn’t until you come upon what seems to be the start of a very long driveway that Max looks over at you.

You don’t return his gaze as you're wonderstruck at the massive house he’s driving up to. The long winding drive leads to a garage that is empty when it opens for Max’s car. The front yard is expansive and though it still blends into the wooded area, it’s well maintained.

You don’t even realize your mouth is hanging open until Max’s fingers gently take hold of your chin.

“You think this is nice, wait til we get inside,” he says before rescinding his touch, shutting off the car and getting out. He walks around and opens your door for you as you unbuckle.

You get out and pull your things from the back seat while he goes to the trunk.

You follow him and you're stunned when you see it’s packed full of his things. You stare stupidly as you watch him grab his own duffle and a suitcase before leading you out of the garage and up the path to the front door.

He unlocks the door with a key and pushes inside before stepping aside and letting you in.

You stand there in shock as you take it all in.

It looks like it came right out of a magazine. Everything looks so perfect. Cozy and comfy, and deceptively expensive, you’re sure.

You turn to him, a question in your eyes.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asks. You continue staring, eyes slightly widening as your brows raise; you’re unsure of what to say.

It is what you wanted, what you’d talked about late at night when you’d stay up telling each other everything. Secrets you’ve never uttered to another soul, all about your deepest, darkest desires, your dreams, what you truly wanted out of this life.

You remember the exact night you’d told him this specifically.

“A nice house,” you’d whispered into the dark as you laid against him in his bed, your head on his chest as he held you under the covers, listening intently as you spoke. “A big yard. Somewhere, away from the city. Near the mountains, maybe? Doesn’t have to be fancy. But I hope it’d be cozy. Pretty,” you smiled. “But I wouldn’t be picky. Just a nice place of my own. Somewhere I could finally call home.”

You had spoken the last sentence so quietly, so full of distant hope and longing, and mostly to yourself, you hadn’t been sure he’d even heard you.

He had stayed quiet after that, the only way you knew he was still awake was his hand smoothing up and down your skin, almost tickling you as he lulled you to sleep with his gentle touch.

That had been the night before you were set to meet your mark. The last night Max had held you so lovingly. After that was when things started to change. He was always on the phone, or on his computer, always meeting up with someone. Growing more and more distant. Too busy for you, his apathy only becoming more evident with each passing day.

It had been a long six months.

“Isn’t it?” he asked again, his voice pulling you back to the present.

You nod, blinking to hold back the unexpected wave of tears you could feel wanting to form.

“But,”

“But nothing. It’s what you wanted. It’s what you deserve.”

You shake your head as a lump in your throat forms. “I wanted it to be real,” you murmur, voice tight. You don’t know what it is you’re doing here. What the next job could possibly entail, but this is just… a different sort of cruel. Like all you’ve ever wanted is being dangled in front of your face, but it isn’t yours to keep as you're forced to play out another charade.

His touch is on you then, turning you to face him completely before he takes your face in his hands, stepping closer to you.

“What makes you think this isn’t real?” His voice is hard though you can hear how he tries to soften it for you.

“I can’t just play pretend for the rest of my life, Max. I can’t. I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not anymore. I don’t want to. To have to move around, living fake lives, never getting to settle down and make one of my own, I-”

“Angel,” he stops you, realizing what your thinking is as a tear slips down your cheek once the confession you never thought you’d say slips past your lips, “I know.”

His thumb wipes at the tear streak as he presses closer to you, leaning his head down to yours while you look up at him. The cold his eyes held before seems to melt as he looks at you. He continues.

“I’ve known. This isn’t temporary, baby. This is your house. It’s in your name and everything. Anything you don’t like, we’ll change. I bought it for you. For us.”

“Wh-,” you breathe, no words forming as you take in what he said. “For us?” your voice cracks as you repeat his words, more tears burning at your eyes. “I thought…”

“Thought what?”

It takes you a second to speak, “... I thought you were over me.”

Hurt flashes across his face before it’s replaced with some kind of indignation.

“Over you?” he says harshly, “I’ve spent months putting all of this together for you-”

“I didn’t know that, it felt like you were ignoring me. Avoiding me-”

“You don’t get all of my attention for a little while and you just assume I’m bored with you? You think that little of me?”

“No, Max. I just - I was hurt and I didn’t, what was I supposed to think?”

“How about you think about how much I love you. Have I not made that clear? I’ve given you every piece of me. I let you in, I took care of you - I take care of you and I love you like I’ve never loved anyone,” you can feel how upset he is as he holds you tighter, his voice cutting you with every word.

“Max,” you say as you grab his wrists. He doesn’t respond, only moves you back as he walks you toward the couch. “Max,” you say again, almost pleading.

Your legs are right against the couch as he towers over you, still holding your face in his hands as you hold his wrists.

“I love you,” he says, hurt seeping through entirely now as he speaks. You’re almost being bent back over the armrest as he continues to try to get even closer to you. You’re looking in his eyes with your bleary ones.

“I know,” you whisper, squeezing his wrists lightly, your thumbs mindlessly running over his skin, “I know.”

“I’d give you the entire world if you wanted it,” he says.

“I don’t want the world,” you breathe sharply. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”

His lips crash into yours without warning as he takes you by surprise. The intensity of the moment completely overwhelms you as you fall back over the armrest onto the couch, Max following you.

You both move up the long couch as your kisses turn messy and fervent, your hands finding his hair as his move under your clothes.

You’ve missed him more than you’d even realized. You’re desperate for him, every little touch, the lightest of brushes of his fingers over your delicate skin. You’re pulling him as close as possible as he crowds you, the reciprocity from him filling you with everything you’d been longing for.

So caught up in the feeling of him, your mind wasn’t thinking of anything else until Max spoke, his words almost a snarl in your ear.

“Everything we’ve been through together, and you were just gonna leave me? Without talking to me, without a goddamn word?”

His hand circled your throat as he spoke, but he didn’t apply much of any pressure. Even still, the feeling enlivened and distressed you all at once.

You didn’t have to speak your admittance, you both knew full well what you had been attempting - what point was there in trying to deny it.

“I tried to talk to you,” you whimpered, eyes watering with the tears threatening to flow over, “you never listened. You acted like I wasn't around. I felt like a ghost, like a burden on you. I didn't want to leave,” you stressed, needing him to know that truth, “but I thought you didn't want me around. I thought I’d be doing us both a favor.”

His hand relaxed around your throat and instead moved up to caress your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, staring at you with the softest look you’d ever seen. “I was caught up in all this, I was brushing you off. But, that was all it took?”

“Max,” you breathed, “even just one day without you, feels like an eternity. I didn’t think I could take it anymore.”

His nose brushes against yours as his eyes close, pained, before he presses his lips to yours, softer this time.

You return his kiss as it grows deeper, his hands moving down your body as he takes you in.

“You’re so dramatic,” he breathes against your skin. You huff, a hand in his hair as you keep him close. “Impatient,”he grits out, then another kiss, “needy.” His voice is low and rough.

You can feel yourself getting hotter with each word he speaks, and had it been anyone else, you’d be embarrassed by how wet you were getting. But you know that he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Please, Max,” you whimper, puppy eyes on display as you pout.

He pulls away, dark eyes penetrating you.

“You know what,” he breathes heavily, “maybe it's time you learn a little something about patience.”

You gape up at him dumbly, not knowing what to say.

“You think you can manage that, angel? Or you gonna try and run off on me again?”

You frown, blinking away from his harsh gaze. “I can manage,” you whisper.

His grip on your chin forces your gaze up, an unbidden whimper leaving you.

“Look at me when you’re talking to me,” he orders.

You swallow hard with a nod, “I can manage.”

—

It’s tortuous the way he moves his tongue, tracing up and down your slit before plunging in and out of your dripping hole, moving back up to swirl over your sensitive clit.

Your body is slicked with sweat, your clothes long tossed away as Max played with you, bringing you to the very edge of pleasure over and over again just to tear it all away before you could reach your release.

You swear you’re about to combust as he sucks on your clit, his fingers buried deep inside your pussy. Your moan sounds from your throat as you keep your mouth shut, head thrown back in pleasure, eyes screwed shut, your hand fisted in his hair while he devours you.

Your hips buck up despite yourself and for the first time tonight, Max doesn’t pull away from you completely. This time, he grips your hip, burying his face deeper in your cunt as his fingers curl just right inside of you, coaxing you closer.

You’re a mess of gasps and moans as he moves his fingers faster, fucking you hard and deep as he keeps his tongue focused on playing with your clit.

“Oh- god! Max, I-, Max, Max, Max, I’m gonna-”

You can’t even hear yourself and your senseless babbling as he speeds up his movements while you cry out for him.

Your orgasm shatters you, your body going tense before you shake beneath him. You’re seeing stars, that glorious warmth washing over you, the pleasure of your orgasm crashing over you in never ending waves as you pulse around his fingers. Max doesn’t stop what he’s doing until your hand in his hair is tugging at him to stop.

You’re breathless, body tired and sweaty as you try to calm down for the intense high. When Max sits up, still between your legs, his chin is slick with your arousal and release as he licks his lips. His eyes are glued to your body, roving up to your chest as it rises and falls with your labored breathing before he crawls over you. You’re face to face as his bright blue eyes peer into your soul. You feel like you’re in a trance as you return his gaze. Your hand reaches to caress his cheek before he leans closer to you, kissing you deeply, letting his tongue lick into your mouth. You moan at the feeling, and the taste of yourself still on his tongue.

“You see the pay off you can get when you just have some patience?” he husks. You whimper as he pulls away from you.

He rids himself of his shirt as you sit up and, slowly at first, reach for his belt. He doesn’t stop you and you grow emboldened.

You fumble with the buckle for a moment in your haste before you get it undone, immediately going for the button of his pants.

His hands brush yours as he unzips and pushes his pants down with his briefs, freeing his erect cock. You can’t help but reach for him, wrapping your hand around his length. Your heavy lidded eyes are glued to his body, your free hand exploring him as goosebumps break out over his skin under your gentle touch.

His shaky intake of breath as you stroke him with one hand and ghost slowly up and down his side with the other fills you with a sense of accomplishment and pride.

You can’t keep your longing at bay as your hand speeds up, gripping him a bit tighter as you jerk him off.

The moan that tumbles from his lips has your desire growing tenfold, but Max stops you all too soon.

He pushes you to lie back down on the couch, eyes dark and focused solely on you. The intensity steals your already unsteady breath as you release a soft gasp from his push.

It’s quiet in the house, the only sounds to be heard are your labored breaths as you wait, simmering in anticipation.

Max leans over you, planting one hand next to your head as he holds his stiff length in his other, never breaking eye contact as he guides himself to your entrance, prodding you with his cock.

Your breath hitches as he pushes his tip just inside your tight hole. You don’t so much as blink as he leans himself down closer to you while pushing further inside you. You spread your legs as much as possible as your mouth opens in a silent moan. Max holds your waist as he begins rocking in and out of you, slow and deep with each thrust he drives into you.

You tremble beneath him, your eyes wanting to roll back into your head but you don’t want to look away from him for even a second. A part of you terrified he’ll disappear if you do.

You reach for him with one hand, pulling him closer by his hip, your other holding his hand as he holds you.

Your nose tingles as he moves even slower, hitting even deeper with every stroke, his fingers squeezing your plush waist. Everything feels so intense; strong, powerful, entirely overwhelming as your eyes fill with tears once more.

He smooths his hand from under yours, up your waist, over your breast and further until he’s holding your cheek, his thumb wiping away your stray tears. He leans down as he stops his hips, keeping himself fully sheathed in your tight warmth.

He kisses you, so gently. More tears roll down your cheeks as your eyes close, your hands urging his body closer. Your touch has his kiss growing deeper; not as soft, but just as passionate as he begins to roll his hips into yours again.

You gasp as he stimulates your clit, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, sliding against yours before you let him dominate it, following his lead - like you always do.

Like you always will.

Each rock of his hips stokes the fire building deep inside you. Your hands are clutching him like your life depends on it.

You can feel your walls flexing around his length, his groan at the sensation still audible through your kissing until he pulls away, nuzzling your nose with his as he refuses to put space between you as you both try to breathe.

“Fuck, it’s been too long,” he says, voice strained, eyes screwed shut. “I’m not gonna last with the way you’re squeezing me, baby.”

You mewl as he starts to move faster. It’s evident he’s close to coming and you’re beyond grateful because you know you’re right there with him.

The sound of his hips hitting against you grows louder with each thrust, his balls are slapping against you and the wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your cunt are as salacious as they are arousing - only pushing you further to the edge.

Your toes are curling as your muscles tighten, and a strangled moan leaves you. His rhythm is completely lost now as he fucks into you relentlessly. You can’t stop yourself from coming, your walls constricting around his cock as the high of your orgasm crash over you.

You feel the spurts of his come hitting your walls as he lets out a throaty moan, thrusting in and out of you, riding out the high as he fills you completely. Your name intermingled with curses leave his lips as he relishes in the orgasmic bliss.

When he can’t take it any longer, the sensitivity too much for him, he gently pulls out of you before he collapses down beside you.

You’re breathless as you lay there, reaching a hand to touch his chest, just wanting to feel him.

You turn onto your side to be chest to chest, face to face.

“I’ve missed you,” you say, your voice small and tight. He strokes your face lovingly as he watches your eyes well with unshed tears.

“I’ve missed you, too, baby.”

You try to blink away the new wave of tears but you’re unsuccessful. His touch only coaxes more as you finally feel safe enough to let them all out now that you’re in his arms again. He moves to hold you against him as you shudder, nuzzling closer.

He shushes you as you cry, kissing your head and rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you. His warmth alone is a comfort. You don’t know how long you spend like that in his hold but finally your tears begin to subside.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper pathetically. “I’m so sorry, Max.”

He places a kiss on your forehead, “I know. It’s okay. And I know you, sweetheart. I know you’d never leave me, you wouldn’t have gone through with it. I know you wouldn’t have.”

You take a moment, worrying your lip before you look up to meet his gaze.

He waits for you to speak, seeing the thoughts and worry in your eyes and knowing you have something to say.

“I love you, Max. But I can’t do it anymore. I can’t live another lie. I can’t,” your voice breaks on your last words as Max cradles your face.

“Baby, why do you think I brought you out here? Why I bought all of this for you?”

Your brows furrow as you look into his soft gaze, needing him to say it outright before you can really start to believe what you think it is he means. He offers you a soft smirk,

“You can be done, sweetheart. You’re done.”

You breathe in a bit shakily, eyes wide and a pout on your lips.

“But I,” you take an unexpectedly sharp breath, “I don’t want you to leave me, either.”

He chuckles at the small tremble underlying your voice, gently kissing your pout.

“You’re so greedy,” he admonishes, holding your cheek before pulling you closer for another kiss. He sighs as he pulls away. “But if that’s what you need from me, then I’ll be done, too.”

You aren’t even thinking when you take his face in your hands and pull him to you again, pressing your lips to his firmly. You keep hold of him as you part.

“Yeah?” you ask, not sure he means it.

“For you,” he nods, “yeah.”

You share another deep kiss that takes your breath away before you have to pull away for air. You caress his hair, “So… we live here now?” The question sounds silly to you, but it’s genuine.

He nods with a smile and you nod in return.

“Well, as nice as this couch is, I’d love to see the rest of the place.”

“You ready for the tour?”

“Mhm,” you smile as he moves to get up over you. Before he can, though, you stop him. “Max, wait. I-...Thank you,” you say, carding a hand through his dark hair. “I never expected this, at all. But it’s all I’ve ever wanted. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you,” you return with watery eyes. Emotions getting the best of you yet again. But you can’t help it. You’ve missed him so much, missed being this close, hearing his voice, hearing those words.

He holds you again, lips against your ear, “I’m sorry, angel. Sorry I was so distant.” He kisses your temple. “I promise I’ll make it up to you, and I’ll never make you feel like that again.”

He turns your face to his and kisses you once again.

“I promise.”

There’s so much love in his gaze, and a sincerity in his eyes, one you couldn’t question even if you wanted to. So you readily return his kiss, you take him at his word. You believe him. Because it’s him.

It’ll always be him.

#max burnett x curvy!reader #max burnett x reader #max burnett smut #max burnett angst #max burnett fluff #max burnett #sebastian stan characters #max burnett fanfiction #max burnett one shot #max burnett x you #max sharper

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yelena-bellova · 1 year

Text

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven: Almost

Plot: Joel, Ellie and Y/n work their way across Wyoming in a desperate search for Tommy.

Word Count: 12.6k

Warnings: tlou ep.6 spoilers, language, death, loss of a child, angry outburst, trauma, anxiety attacks, 16+

A/N: SURPRISE! One day ahead of where I thought I’d be, swooping in for a dose of bedtime angst 🌙

As always, I have to put that this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist if your age/range is not specified in your bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

This chapter and the one that will follow are the chapters. They’re the culmination of this whole frickin’ journey. It’s been so fun to eead your theories about Joel and Rosebud’s breakup, and now you’ll have (some of) your answers. I hope it lives up to what you imagined, or maybe even surprises you. Above all, I hope y’all enjoy 😘

—————

December 2023. Somewhere in Wyoming.

Fuck the philosophers of the pre-Cordyceps world.

Time healed nothing.

If anything, time made pain worse. Because, with enough time to study its victim, the pain could evolve. It could morph into anger, bitterness…much like Cordyceps, it could consume its host until they were shrouded in so many layers of hurt, they became unrecognizable.

Time healed absolutely nothing.

Marlon returned to his cabin, hanging the two rabbits he’d killed on the hook outside the door. The little warmth the home managed to retain welcomed him in, but the inside had changed since he’d been gone.

“Who the hell are you?”

Y/n sat adjacent to Florence, Marlon’s wife, blowing on a spoonful of soup. “A deep admirer of your wife’s cooking,” she answered.

Marlon stood confused at the door, slowly removing his jacket.

“And the gun.”

The old man turned to see another stranger, this one a man, emerging from the kitchen. He had a pistol drawn on Marlon.

“And you?”

Joel shook his head, carefully moving towards Marlon, “Just someone passin’ through. Take the gun out, two fingers only, put it outta reach.”

Marlon obeyed, dangling his pistol off his fingers and setting it on an end table. All the while, Y/n sipped her soup.

Marlon looked to Florence, “Why didn’t you shoot them?”

She nodded across the room, “The gun’s all the way over there. They didn’t hurt me by the way.”

“Yeah, I got eyes,” Marlon walked to his chair, he’d already deemed Joel as a very minor, if at all, threat.

“He won’t shoot you,” Y/n interjected, not once looking up from her bowl, “He threatens everyone he meets.”

Joel’s hardened stare landed on Y/n’s face, her casualty was greatly undermining him.

“You made ‘em soup?” Marlon gestured to Y/n’s meal, along with Joel’s untouched bowl that sat on the coffee table.

“Yeah, I did,” Florence answered, “It’s cold out.”

Y/n reached across and touched the woman’s arm, “And it’s lovely, Florence. Thank you.”

Joel sighed in exasperation, “We’re lookin’ for my brother.”

Marlon scoffed and removed his baseball cap, “Well, I ain’t seen him.”

“I haven’t told you what he looks like,” Joel replied.

“He look anything like you?” Marlon asked.

“A bit.”

Marlon shrugged, “Then I ain’t seen him.”

“They’ve got a girl with them,” Florence nodded up the stairs.

“Can I come down now?” Ellie called from above, overlooking the ground floor.

Joel and Y/n answered at the same time.

“No.”

“Yeah.”

Their eyes flicked to one another, Joel’s frustrated, Y/n’s calm. She was done playing the gunslinging traveler when unnecessary.

Ellie, always siding with whichever of them gave her what she wanted, bounded down the stairs.

“Ellie,” Joel reprimanded, as if it would do anything to stop her…

“Ooh-wa,” Marlon chuckled, looking to his wife and Y/n.

“What did I just say?” Joel said as Ellie joined him.

“Joel, come on,” she replied, aiming her handgun at the couple, “They’re like, a thousand.”

Marlon ran his eyes over Ellie, “Who’s this little psycho?”

“Never mind her,” Joel leaned forward, pushing his map across the table to Marlon, “I need you to tell us where we are.”

“If you got a map, why’re you lost?” Marlon asked.

“Must’ve missed all the street signs in the enormous fucking forest,” Ellie shot back.

“Ho-ly,” Marlon smiled to his wife, the two of them sharing a laugh.

Joel glanced over to Ellie, she was mirroring his posture, his tone…she was trying so damn hard to be like him. “We’re somewhere here,” he pointed to a spot on the map, “Exactly where? And your answer better be the same as your wife’s.”

Marlon’s eyes flicked to Florence, “You tell ‘em the truth?”

“Yeah,” she replied.

“Are you tellin’ me the truth?”

“Yeah.”

Marlon leaned forward and pressed a finger to a spot on the map. It wasn’t the answer Joel was looking for.

“Well,” he holstered his gun, “You found a great place to hide, I guess.”

“Hide?” Marlon chuckled deeply as Joel settled on his couch, “Came here before you and your wife were born, sonny. Get the hell away from everybody.”

“Not his wife,” Y/n was quick to reply before taking another spoonful. It had been three fucking months of assumptions and both Joel and her were exhausted by them.

Florence turned to Y/n, “I didn’t want to.”

“Eh,” Marlon waved his wife off and looked to Joel, “Listen, I didn’t mean to upset you about your brother but if you’ve come this far, then you know what’s out there. You seen Cody?”

“Yeah, got close enough,” Ellie answered from the arm of the couch, “It’s crawling with Infected.

“Yeah, Laramie,” Marlon listed off, “And Wind River Reservation. Anywhere people used to be. You can’t go there no more.”

Y/n set her soup aside and leaned forward on her elbows, deciding it was finally time to take the conversation seriously. “So you’ve never heard the name Tommy Miller?”

“Nope,” Marlon answered.

“What about the Fireflies?” Ellie asked.

Florence nodded, “We get those in the summer.”

“Not the bugs,” Ellie replied, thoroughly put out, “The people.”

“There are firefly people?”

Y/n joined the joke and gestured down the length of her body, “In the flesh.”

Marlon, Florence and Y/n shared a laugh, Joel couldn’t tell whether he was more annoyed or disappointed.

“You got any advice on the best way west?”

“Yeah,” Marlon leaned forward, “Go east,” he ran a finger along a stretch of water on the map, “But you never go past the river here. Ever.”

“What’s past the river?” Ellie asked.

“Death,” Florence answered, “We never seen who’s out there, but we see the bodies they leave behind. Some Infected, some not,” she turned to Joel, “If your brother’s west of the river, he’s gone.”

Joel and Y/n’s eyes met across the table, both trying to conceal their worry under Ellie’s ever-present gaze, but knowing they could share it with each other.

“You’re not gonna scare us,” Ellie said, confidently.

Florence nodded towards Joel and Y/n, “Scared them.”

They quickly buried their anxieties under blind determination. Whatever lay across the bank, it didn’t matter. They had to believe that Tommy was both alive and well on the other side.

Filing out of the cabin, Joel and Y/n marched ahead of Ellie.

“You don’t seriously believe them,” Ellie half-stated, half-asked.

“They’ve lived here a long time,” Joel replied, trudging through the snow. He could feel his heartbeat speeding up.

Y/n turned around to see why she couldn’t hear Ellie’s footsteps following theirs. The girl was unhooking one of Marlon’s rabbits, “El, come on, don’t steal their food.”

Ellie was undeterred as she swung the game over her shoulder, “They don’t know anything. Never heard of the Fireflies.”

“Yeah, they wouldn’t have out here,” Y/n stretched her arms out around her to the snowy expanse, “Doesn’t mean you have to steal t-“

Y/n’s words faded in Joel’s ear, a steady ring filling the space. It was happening again.

Joel stumbled forward, resting a weak hand on a piece of the cabin’s fence, his breathing became labored. His thoughts began to spin with worst case scenarios in all their various forms that could become reality, if what lay on the other side of the river was real. Every nightmare his mind drummed up ended with Y/n or Ellie d-

“Joel,” Y/n called, she was the first of them to notice. She walked to meet him, “Joel.”

“Joel?” Ellie echoed, she’d had yet to witness one of his episodes, “Joel, are you okay?”

“Shut up,” he said, verbally waving Ellie off.

“Holy shit, are you dying?” Ellie continued.

Joel shook his head and shut his eyes, trying to block them out, “I’m okay.”

Y/n wasn’t so convinced, she laid a firm grip onto Joel’s shoulder. “Joel, c’mon.”

“Okay, but are you okay?” Ellie asked again.

“I’m fine,” Joel insisted, wishing desperately that Y/n would remove her hand, but not possessing the strength to shove it off, “I’m fine.”

“No, no, but are you?” Ellie wouldn’t stop, why couldn’t she stop? “Because just a reminder, that if you’re dead, we’re fucked.”

Y/n’s gaze darted to the girl, “Ellie-“

That was enough to bring Joel back to Earth.

“I said I’m fine,” he pushed, contradicting his words with his palm pressed to his chest. “It’s just the…cold air all of a sudden.”

Y/n let her hand slide off his shoulder, wholly aware that he was lying. The episodes had been occurring more and more over the last few weeks, they seemed to be getting worse the closer they got to wherever Tommy was or wasn’t.

Joel refused to ever tell her what triggered them, hell, he had barely figured it out himself. What he did know was that he couldn’t deal with what lay at the core of them all. That would have required an honesty he hadn’t possessed in twenty years.

“All right, uh,” Ellie was the first of the three to bounce back, “So let’s go find Tommy and the Fireflies. It’s gonna be easy,” she slid between the fence and called back to them, “All we have to do is cross the river of death.”

Joel and Y/n were left on their own, the former waiting to catch his breath, the latter waiting on an explanation.

“Would it have killed you to back me up in there?” Joel asked, his usual sour mood replacing the small glimpse of vulnerability.

“Yeah,” Y/n’s watched him bury the lsat thirty seconds, denying her an answer once again, “‘Cause that’s our biggest problem.”

She slid through the fence after Ellie, leaving Joel to bring up the rear of their group.

The last three months had been trying, but not in the ways Joel and Y/n might have thought at the beginning of their quest. They could only stay silent with each other for so long before they had to talk, and they’d reached a place where they weren’t at each other’s throats any more. While the snow had frozen the earth, their anger had melted…

Leaving all the underlying emotions to fill the vacant space.

The physical distance they kept hadn’t changed, but the unspoken chasm between them was beginning to cave in on itself. With each passing day, it was growing harder and harder for Joel and Y/n to pretend like they didn’t need each other.

In every one of Joel’s attacks, his guilt slammed into him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown the life out of him. So many people he’d let down and when he opened his eyes, he was staring into the face of one of them. One look at Y/n caused everything he’d told himself about her over the years to follow the undertow out to sea.

Y/n, in all her righteous rage, was beginning to do the impossible…she was starting to understand why Joel had done what he’d done to her. She’d spent twenty years cursing his name, a constant boil in her stomach that bubbled whenever she thought of him, but there’d always been a voice in her head reminding her of the ‘why.’ All of Joel’s actions from Outbreak Day on had been driven by a deep pain inside him. That inkling was starting to spread through Y/n’s mind, the dye well on its way to consuming the whole brain.

In a perfect world, they’d have come to one another, humbly, and talked it through. Instead, they held their grudge, with its dying flame, as the barricade between them, hoping that it sparked once more.

—————————

In the fall, fires had been a luxury, but as winter rolled in, they became necessary to make it through the night.

Y/n and Joel sat on opposite sides of it, Joel adding another layer of duct tape to his boot and Y/n stitching up a busted seam in her leather gloves. It was the apocalypse’s version of domesticities.

Ellie was above them, having scaled a rock to get a good look at the stars. A green glimpse of the Aurora Borealis waved through the midnight blue sky.

Joel whistled for her eventually, “Come down from there. You’re gonna break your neck.”

Ellie reluctantly returned to the ground, choosing to sit close to Y/n and watch her mend her glove. The two of them had grown closer over the past three months. Joel would never let his guard down wholly for Ellie, but Y/n was more comfortable letting the girl see her as she was.

“Ahh,” Ellie said, spotting the flask Joel was taking a swig from, “Can I have some?”

“No,” Y/n and Joel said in perfect harmony.

“What? Just to warm up,” Ellie clarified, “C’mon.”

Joel’s eyes flicked to Y/n, who knew she couldn’t hold old world rules to their situation. Her gaze falling back to her handiwork served as Joel’s answer.

Ellie took the flask, made sure to give a little ‘cheers’ to Joel and took a drink. She grimaced as it ran down her throat, “Yep,” she strained, “Still gross.”

Ellie held out the flask to Y/n, who shook her head. The thought of being anywhere near where Joel’s lips had been unsettled her.

“So I’ve been thinking,” Ellie started after a short stretch of silence, “Let’s say we find the Fireflies, it all works, they draw my blood and put it through some of their fancy machines and make a cure.”

Joel’s brows furrowed in confusion, “Okay.”

“Then what?” Ellie asked, “Like, what do we do?”

“Oh, it’s ‘we?’” Joel replied.

“Yeah, the end of this partnership comes as soon as we get to the base,” Y/n pointed between herself and Joel.

Ellie nearly rolled her eyes, “Okay, fine. Whatever, you. Separately. You can do anything you want,” she looked to Joel first, “Where are you going? What are you doing?”

Joel glanced at the sky, to admit his true answer would kill another piece of the remnants of his heart. “It’s never been an option,” he cleared his throat, “Maybe…”

For a split second, he saw it all again. His old house. Tommy in the kitchen, raiding their fridge. Sarah at the table, doing homework.

And Y/n, somewhere in the middle of it all, laughing and looking to Joel with a softness that both uplifted and settled him.

“An old farmhouse,” he lied, “Some land…a ranch.”

Y/n stared down at her needlework, knowing that each word was a lie.

“Cool,” Ellie replied, oblivious to the history surrounding her, “What kind?”

“Sheep,” Joel answered, it was the first animal he could think of, “I would raise sheep.”

“Sheep,” Ellie repeated under her breath.

“They’re quiet,” Joel continued, his stare falling on Ellie, “Do what they’re told.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Ellie got the hint, “So just you and a buncha sheep. Romantic. Is there…” her eyes swung between Joel and Y/n, “Room for anyone else in the pens with you?”

The assumptions made by strangers that Y/n and Joel were a couple were enjoyable compared to Ellie’s constant attempts to push them together. They were getting more frequent and less subtle.

“I go back to work after this, El,” Y/n said, finishing up her last loop, “Doubtful I’ll be getting back to Boston any time soon, so I’ll probably stay at the camp out here.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Ellie shook her head, “I asked what you wanted to do. Out of anything, anything in the world.”

Y/n stopped her stitching, staring down at the needle, wondering if she poked herself hard enough, if she’d be able to draw blood. Would she be able to feel the prick? Or was she just numb enough that physical pain couldn’t touch her?

Joel had noticed that Y/n was beginning to slow down more. On the move, she was as fast as ever, but in the quiet moments between, there’d be times where the world was in motion, and she was perfectly still. It was like she was somewhere deep, deep in her mind, waiting for whatever hold had come over her to break and allow her to return to reality.

Y/n swallowed thickly, her past life flickering before her eyes like a movie montage. Sharing a beer with Tommy while watching a Cowboys game. Painting Sarah’s nails for her with a color the girl had stolen from Y/n’s bathroom. Laying in bed with Joel, deep in the pillows and listening to him sing softly over his guitar…

Her dreams were dead.

“I want to work,” she answered, it wasn’t a total lie, “Help people. If I stop for too long…then what the hell am I doing?”

Joel wished he didn’t recognize the underlying sentiment, that if she stopped moving at an inhuman pace, the grief would consume her. But he did, because it was the same way he lived his life.

Y/n clipped the thread with her teeth, beginning to tie a knot, “And what about you? What are you gonna do after you save the world?”

Ellie gave a small smile as Y/n nudged her with her shoulder. She turned her gaze to the sky, specifically the very visible moon. “It’s probably because I grew up in the QZ. Behind you, there’s ocean and ahead of you there’s a wall,” her smile grew the longer she stared at the stars, “Nowhere else to look but up. I read everything I could in the school library. Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, Jim Lovell…” Ellie sat forward with enthusiasm, “But you know who my favorite is?”

“Sally Ride,” Joel and Y/n both answered, it wasn’t hard to guess.

“Sally fuckin’ Ride,” Ellie slapped her knees, enunciating her point, “Best astronaut name ever!”

Whatever levity had come over their campsite faded quickly, Y/n watched as Ellie’s passion turned to sobering…grief? Guilt? She was hard to read sometimes, the innocence of youth and the scars of rushed adulthood creating something entirely new.

“It’ll work, right?” Ellie asked, “The vaccine?”

“It’s a little late to start wonderin’,” Joel responded, his hands folded over his stomach.

Ellie looked down at her lap, unable to look either Y/n or Joel in the eye. “I tried…with Sam.”

“Tried what?” Y/n asked.

“I knew he was infected,” Ellie confessed, “I rubbed some of my blood into his bite. I know,” she hurried, trying to stop Joel’s anxious admonishment before it came, “I know, it was stupid, but I…” she looked back down at her lap, “I wanted to save him.”

Y/n diverted her gaze to the fire, feeling the warmth of it deep in her belly. Not a day had gone by where she hadn’t thought about Henry or Sam. It had taken her a full day after their deaths to even be able to speak. The sorrow in Henry’s eyes before pulling the trigger on his own life haunted her. The pain of understanding still lingered in her chest, coming out to play every once in a while and remind her that no matter what she did, no matter how hard she worked to be a good person…she couldn’t erase what she had done.

“Well, I reckon it’s a lot more complicated than that,” Joel plainly answered, “Marlene, she’s a lotta things, but…she’s no fool. If she says they can do it, they can do it.”

Ellie absorbed his answer before turning to Y/n, waiting for her reassurance.

Y/n pulled herself out of her grief, barely quirking the corners of her lips up. “It’ll work,” she replied.

Ellie seemed to accept both their responses, letting silence fill the space again until she decided it was time to end her day. “How’re we splitting up the watches?”

Joel sighed, Y/n’s gaze already waiting for him when he looked up at her.

“We’ll do ‘em both,” he answered, “Get some sleep. Dream of…” he capped the flask and exchanged it for his rifle, “Sheep ranches on the moon.”

Ellie nodded, grabbing her sleeping bag and walking to the deeper part of their hideout, “I will.”

Y/n fitted her repaired glove back on her hand, tucking them under her armpits for extra warmth. This was the hardest part of each of the day/ When it was just Joel, her and the unmentionable divide between them.

Joel tried to distract himself, gazing up at the moon and focusing on tracing the constellations around it. But the self-discipline he tried so desperately to maintain concerning Y/n was slipping, his eyes using some uncontrollable part of his mind to drift over to her.

Y/n was struggling to keep up her stoic decorum, the urge to let her and Joel’s conversations warm growing stronger and stronger. It was natural in their mutual isolations to wish for someone to talk to. But with him in front of her, the figurehead of the past she wanted so desperately to go back to…she craved a piece of a memory, any memory, that only he could give her. A short hit of dopamine to get her through the next day.

“So, Tommy,” she began, it was the only part of their past she could safely return to.

“What about him?” Joel asked.

“Is he…” Y/n chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying to phrase the question right, “Is he still…Tommy?”

Joel sighed, the memories of two decades ago mixing with the last version of his brother he’d seen. “He’s still a pain in the ass, if that’s what you’re askin’.”

Y/n gave a very small smile, “But he’s still him?”

Whatever she was looking for, Joel couldn’t give her. None of them were like they’d been twenty years ago, except maybe her. She had managed to keep her humanity intact. He was darkness in both their eyes. As rough as he’d been on her at the beginning of their journey, now, he didn’t want to shatter her illusion about perhaps the one person left on the planet she loved.

“Yeah,” he replied, “He’s still him.”

Y/n nodded, deciding not to ask anything else and let the moment stay pleasant. “I can take first watch,” she volunteered.

“No, you go ahead,” Joel shook his head, “I’ll wake you up.”

“Okay,” Y/n replied, too tired to fight him. She grabbed her own rifle before unrolling her sleeping bag on her side of the fire, stretching out under it and using her arm as a pillow.

Joel kept his eyes off of her until the even rhythm of her breaths told him she was asleep. Then, and only then, did he let himself watch her, trying to combat the various fears that filled his head. She was there, in front of him, alive and well.

But how long could he keep her like that?

—————————

Even in his sleep, Joel couldn’t find rest.

A barrage of images, flashes of colors and echoes of screams, played through his mind. When he startled awake, like every morning past, all he could feel was an overwhelming sense of loss.

The gun was gone.

This was it. His grand failure.

He bolted upright only to find Ellie, a few feet away, standing guard with his rifle.

“Still mumbling in your sleep,” she stated, “I woke up early. You and Y/n,” she glanced over at her still-sleeping guardian, “Were passed out, so I took second watch.”

“You gotta wake one of us up if that happens,” Joel snapped, quickly getting to his feet and crossing the distance between him and Y/n, “You can’t do things like this.”

“But I can,” Ellie smiled, “‘Cause I just did.”

Joel crouched down, shaking Y/n’s arm lightly in an effort not to startle her, “Hey.”

All credit to him for trying, Y/n still woke with a gasp. It was her basic programming.

“We’re fine, we’re fine,” Joel was quick to reassure her as she rolled onto her back.

Y/n scrunched her eyes, blinking the sleep away from them, and sat up. It was daylight. Joel hadn’t woken her up for her watch, again.

“My fault,” he accepted the blame she was getting ready to place on him before continuing his conversation with Ellie, “We’re responsible for you, okay?”

“Then don’t fall asleep,” Ellie challanged, “I was quiet, I checked my six, I looked for tracks, I found the high ground and I kept watch,” she explained as Joel approached her, “Like you taught me to. What can I say, man? I’m a natural.”

Y/n scoffed as she unzipped her sleeping bag, “And you’re not cocky about it at all.”

Joel held out a demanding hand, taking the rifle from Ellie, but accepting that she’d done the job right. “You wake us up next time,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Ellie replied, smugness evident in her tone and on her face.

Without another word, Y/n and Joel collected the few things they’d unpacked, smothered what remained of the fire, and the three of them resumed their hike to an unknown destination.

—————————

Even if they’d have been warned in graphic detail what lay over the River of Death, it wouldn’t have changed Joel and Y/n’s minds. The only way to Tommy was to risk their lives crossing, and they did so with very little hesitation.

Ellie, bless her soul, had found plenty of ways to keep herself entertained on the way, including trying to teach herself how to whistle and requesting hunting training. Joel still wouldn’t budge on the latter.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Ellie started at some point in their hike, “And I think I figured out what happened between you two.”

Joel and Y/n tensed up as they walked alongside one another, Ellie’s cleverness worked against them most of the time.

“Obviously, you two were a thing way back when in Texas,” she explained, adding a twang to the state’s name, “And then at some point, you guys break up. The ‘why’ was what was tripping me up, until I realized, boom…there was somebody else.”

Y/n forcefully exhaled, wondering whether the theory was more preferable to the truth.

“Now, I can’t quite figure out which one of you would’ve slipped up,” Ellie continued, “But even if you didn’t cheat with them, there was someone who got in between you enough to equal a big fight, throwing things at one another, screaming how much you loved each other and eventually ending with you swearing never to speak again. Which is why you two were ready to kill each other when you met in the QZ.”

Joel was near reaching his boiling point, fighting the pull to spin around to Ellie, wave a finger in her face and explain exactly how the situation had gone down. But the reality of those words finally escaping his lips and taking up space in the world was an unbearable thought.

Y/n was near breaking too, feeling the cracks in her chest begin to spread. She needed off the topic if she was going to be able to take a breath. “What the hell kind of stories were you checking out in between astronaut books?”

“Whatever,” Ellie brushed it off, “I know I’m right.”

Thankfully, she let the subject go as soon as they closed in on an old, out-of-usage dam. The water still gushed through it and into the river.

“Dam,” Ellie punned.

“You’re no Will Livingston,” Joel remarked.

“Yeah, yeah, but who is?” Ellie smiled, “So that made electricity?”

“Yeah,” Joel answered, predicting Ellie’s next question, “Don’t ask me, I don’t have a clue.”

He resumed their walk, Y/n and Ellie trailing behind.

“You know, you could have just made something up,” Ellie said, “I would’ve believed you.”

The three of them hiked a half hour more before coming up on another side of the river, or perhaps, an entirely separate one.

“Look at that river,” Ellie remarked, “It’s crazy blue.”

Y/n and Joel were hardly paying attention, both in their own separate thought bubbles. Any time the subject of their past relationship was brought up, it reset the clock on their comfort with each other and took at least an hour to warm back up to one another.

“Hey,” Ellie spoke up, “What if this…is the River of Death?”

The adults stopped in their tracks, the thought hadn’t dawned on them after the victory of crossing the first body of water. Joel whipped out their map, Y/n came to join him and the two of them examined it carefully.

“Fuck,” Y/n mumbled under her breath, pressing a hand to her temple.

“We don’t know it yet,” Joel quickly said, walking ahead a few steps to get a better view of their surroundings. Y/n followed closely, with Ellie on their heels.

A noise on the hill above them caught Y/n’s ear, her eyes lifting from the map to see a group of riders coming straight for them.

“Joel,” she shook his arm forcefully, bringing his attention upwards.

At the first glimpse, Joel grabbed Ellie’s free hand, Y/n taking the other, and they bolted for the forest. There were enough riders to circle them in, aiming their rifles at them and cutting off any escape route they could have found. They were fucked.

“Get behind me,” Joel told Ellie and Y/n, only the youngest of the two listened to him. The three of them held their hands up, “We ain’t lookin’ for any trouble, we’re just passin’ through.”

“Drop the guns,” one of the riders ordered.

Slowly, Y/n and Joel slipped their rifles off of their shoulders and placed them on the ground.

“You,” the same guy nodded to Ellie, “Take five steps back.”

“We can talk through this,” Y/n said, her voice gained strength the moment Ellie was addressed.

“How about you shut the fuck up?”

“Okay,” Joel spoke quickly, his hand instinctively flinching towards Y/n’s as she was threatened, “Easy,” he looked behind to Ellie and said with a low voice, “You’ll be okay.”

Ellie backed up reluctantly, her eyes darting between the riders, Y/n and Joel.

“You been near any Infected?”

“There’s no Infected out here,” Joel answered the man.

“The hell there ain’t,” the rider replied, whistling immediately after. One of them walked a dog, a German Shepherd, forward. He was barking wildly. “Last chance for a bullet. If you’ve been infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up.”

Y/n and Joel’s blood ran cold.

The dog came forward, sniffing from Joel’s boots up to his torso, and deeming him safe. He went through the same motions with Y/n before walking back to its keeper. Joel and Y/n felt the same hesitant relief, could they really make it out of this?

“Like I said,” Joel said, “We’ll just move on.”

But life wasn’t that merciful to them. “Now her,” the rider nodded back to Ellie.

Y/n turned to face the girl, Ellie’s eyes widened with childlike fear. There was nothing Y/n could do to help. The second she raised her pistol, she’d be dead. They’d know they were hiding something and they’d shoot Ellie too. But if she stayed perfectly still, resting all of her hope on a blind theory, maybe…just maybe…

Joel wasn’t thinking hardly as rationally as his ex. His ears began to ring, his heart began to race, all his senses blinding him with terror as the dog approached. He was helpless again, his hands tied behind his back as he watched someone he cared about die a slow, meaningless de-

Ellie giggled.

Y/n huffed a sigh of relief at the sound, her and Joel turning to see the dog licking Ellie’s face. She fell back onto the snow, laughing and scratching the animal’s neck. When she smiled up at them, Joel and Y/n felt the oxygen return to their lungs.

The rider whistled for the dog to return, “You just bought yourself ten more seconds. What are you doin’ out here?”

It took Joel a few of those seconds to come back to his surroundings, “We’re just lookin’ for my brother. That’s all, nothin’ more.”

“Ho!”

The rider to the left of the one threatening them nudged her horse forward, stopping a few feet closer to Joel and Y/n. “What’re your names?”

“Joel,” he answered.

“Y/n.”

The woman looked them over, her bandana covering all but her eyes. “I can take you to your brother,” she finally said.

Joel’s lips parted in shock, instantly tilting his head to gaze over at Y/n, who wore the same surprise. Tommy was alive.

The woman called back to one of the riders, ordering them to go retrieve the two extra horses they’d left to graze. They were brought back, saddled and all, and Joel, Y/n and Ellie were directed to get on them.

Y/n jumped on one first, her and Joel both helping Ellie onto the rear of the saddle.

“You hold on and you don’t let go, alright?” Y/n said, wrapping the reins of the bridle around her fist. It had been a long time since she’d ridden.

“Mm-hmm,” Ellie hummed, locking her arms around Y/n’s middle.

Joel promptly mounted his own horse, nudging his them closer to ride alongside Y/n and Ellie.

“Let’s move out,” the woman called to the group.

They rode about fifteen minutes, galloping further west. In the distance, a building could barely be made out. The closer they got, the more Y/n and Joel could tell it was a fort. The party slowed as they approached the gate, two riders getting off their horses to help open it up. Joel and Y/n followed without question, despite having a dozen.

Y/n’s breath caught at the sight inside the walls.

It was a town. A proper fucking town.

Unlike the QZ, the place they were looked whole, kept up. The buildings weren’t crumbling, they stood firmly planted in the ground. All around them, people were strolling, not running. Children were screaming in play, not in fear. There were even snowmen lining the outside of one of the storefronts.

Y/n wanted to look back at Joel, to make sure he was seeing it too. She instead kept her eyes forward, scanning over her surroundings in awe.

Joel was entirely confused, but otherwise occupied by checking each and every face they passed to see if it was Tommy. Eventually, the sounds of construction instinctively brought his attention to the side of a building where two men were hard at work. The second silhouette, a tall, thin, dark haired man, didn’t require an extra second of examination. Joel knew it was his brother.

“Tommy,” he shouted.

Y/n followed Joel’s line of vision and let out a hushed gasp.

Tommy looked up from his work, scanning the group for the familiar voice. His eyes fell on his brother, shock freezing him for a few seconds before he began to climb down the scaling.

Joel slid off his horse, his steps quickening as relief flooded his body. Tommy strode towards him, the two of them meeting in a solid, long overdue, embrace.

Tommy laughed into Joel’s shoulder before pulling back to get a good look at him, “What the fuck you doin’ here?”

Joel took a breath, taking in their surroundings, “I came here to save you.”

Tommy’s brows furrowed while Joel exploded into a fit of laughter, the two of them pulling each other back in.

Y/n wound her leg over her horse, dropping to the ground and handing Ellie the reins. She kept her distance as she watched the brothers reunite, a sharp pain running through her chest she hadn’t felt in two decades. But when Tommy opened his eyes, gazing over Joel’s shoulder, he straightened up.

Tommy looked between his brother and Y/n, dumbfounded by the sight of them in the same vicinity. He broke away from Joel, walking the distance before matching Y/n’s quickened jog, and lifted the woman into his arms.

As soon as Tommy embraced her, Y/n’s long-held tears began to fall.

“What the hell?” Tommy asked, his mouth muffled against Y/n’s coat.

Y/n was too overwhelmed to explain anything.

“I tried,” Tommy rushed out, having held onto those two words for twenty years, “I tried to find you, I couldn’t.”

“I know,” Y/n sniffled, “I know.”

Cleared of any wrongdoing in her eyes, Tommy held Y/n a little tighter and pulled her off her feet. She laughed as she cried, digging her face into the denim of Tommy’s jacket.

If Joel had thought he could handle the reunion, he’d been wrong. The sight of his brother and his ex, so thrilled to be in each other’s presence again, split him. It was the first time in three months he’d seen Y/n genuinely happy, so full of joy she was brought to tears.

Joel could feel his own eyes growing wet.

Tommy set Y/n back on the ground, keeping an arm around her shoulders and looking to Joel. When Y/n and Joel’s gazes met, there was no trying to hide any of what they were feeling. It was a heavy moment, but a joyous one, and they had to sit with it.

“Y’all must be starving,” Tommy said, “Let’s head to the mess hall, give us some time to talk.”

The rest of the riders trailed off, leaving Joel, Y/n, Ellie, Tommy and the dark skinned woman who had led brought them there. Y/n and Joel remained on foot with Tommy, though Y/n kept a hand on Ellie’s reins all the way to the mess hall.

Inside, the woman Tommy introduced as Maria, made special effort to get Joel, Ellie and Y/n hot plates of food. Weeks of mostly rabbit had them shoveling their meals into their mouths, none of them even asked what they’d been served.

“There’s more if you need it,” Maria offered, her and Tommy sitting across from the threesome.

Joel looked up from his plate, “Thank you, ma’am. It’s been a while since we’ve had a proper meal.”

“Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper meal,” Ellie interjected in between bites, “This is fuckin’ amazing.”

Y/n took her eyes off her plate to shoot Ellie a raised eyebrow.

Joel’s southern upbringing turned him white with shock, he quickly looked up to Maria. “Sorry. Ellie, let’s mind our manners.”

Tommy smiled at his brother, it all sounded very familiar…

Ellie looked across the room, spotting a girl watching her from behind a wooden beam. She glared back at her curious stare, “What?”

Y/n pressed a finger to her temple, “Ellie…”

“What’s wrong with you?” Joel asked.

“What about her manners?” Ellie replied.

“She was just curious,” Maria cut in, “Kids around here don’t usually look or talk like you.”

“Right…” Ellie was unimpressed, “Well…maybe I’ll teach them. And I want my gun back.”

“They also aren’t armed,” Marie replied, the group had been forced to check their guns at the front door.

“You know what?” Tommy jumped in, “Uh, I think maybe y’all got a little off on the wrong foot.”

Ellie gestured to the woman, “She was gonna have her guys kill us.”

“Well, we gotta be real careful about who we let into this place,” Tommy explained, “But it’s all bark. We’re just tryna scare off those who might wanna try us is all.”

“Well,” Ellie returned to her plate, “You’ve got a couple of 90-year olds shitting themselves out there.”

Joel and Y/n’s heads turned at the same time, “Ellie.”

“They say that you leave dead bodies laying around?” Ellie continued her tirade.

“Those are the people that tried us,” Maria said.

“A bad reputation doesn’t mean you’re bad,” Tommy stated.

“Not always at least,” Maria added, staring right at Joel.

The tension at the table was palpable, Joel, Y/n and Ellie all wating for Maria’s glare to soften. That wasn’t going to happen.

“Ma’am,” Joel’s voice firmed up, while still retaining its southern pleasantness, “We’re grateful for your hospitality and all,” he looked expectantly to Tommy, “But it’d be nice to have a moment here, maybe just for family.”

Family, and whatever Y/n and Ellie were.

Tommy was half holding his breath as he leaned forward, “Well, um,” he took his wife’s hand, “Maria is family, actually.”

Y/n nearly had the wind knocked out of her, thankful she didn’t have a piece of food in her mouth.

“Oh, shit!” Ellie put together the pieces, “Congrats.”

Joel couldn’t take his eyes off of their clasped palms, painfully transfixed by the bands around their fourth fingers.

“Yeah,” Y/n added, quickly trying to adjust to the idea of Tommy as a husband, “Congratulations.”

“Joel,” Ellie lowered her voice, “Say congrats.”

It was going to take a hell of a lot more time for Joel to absorb the news. “Congrats,” he attempted.

It wasn’t that it was awkward, it was that the ever present dagger in Joel’s heart suddenly twisted.

“Well, how ‘bout a tour?” Tommy suggested, eager to exchange the tension for some fresh air.

“Great idea,” Y/n replied, wiping her mouth off and rising before anyone else. There was a pit of anxiety slowly and steadily building in her stomach and she needed to walk it off.

They were quick to find out that the heart of the town looked even nicer than the edge.

“We settled here about seven years ago,” Maria told the group, “Just a handful of us back then,” she pointed down the middle of the town, “That section was already a gated community, so we built the rest of the wall out from there. Stopped most of the raiding parties, but we still find pockets of them.”

Joel, Y/n and Ellie stayed in a horizontal line behind Maria and Tommy, the foreign environment causing them to want to stick closer together. Unwittingly, Ellie was once again being made the barrier between Joel and Y/n.

“And you said Infected?” Joel asked.

“Yeah, but usually smaller colonies,” Tommy answered, “Wandered off from the cities. All this open country out here…” he looked back to his brother, “It’s a turkey shoot. I still got my 700, but I found a variable power scope. Sub-MOA. Can headshot those fuckers from a half-mile out.”

Ellie’s ears perked up, “Can you teach me how?”

“No, he can’t,” Joel was quick to shoot down the idea.

“How do you keep off the radar?” Y/n asked, “I mean, using all these resources, how has FEDRA not tracked you guys down?”

“Carefully,” Maria answered, “Being in the middle of nowhere helps. Not advertising what we have, staying off the radio.”

Tommy snuck a look to Joel, who had come up alongside him. There was the answer he’d been waiting three months for.

“House of worship,” Maria continued to talk through the buildings, “Multifaith. School. Laundry. Old bank works as the jail, not that we’ve needed it.”

Joel’s eyes drew upwards to the electrical lines, “And you draw power from the dam?”

“Got that workin’ a couple years ago,” Maria answered, “After that, sewage, plumbing, water heaters…lights.”

“This place actually fuckin’ works,” Ellie remarked as she walked, leaving Joel and Y/n behind.

If Y/n thought she’d gotten a taste of normality back at Bill and Frank’s house, this felt like some sort of starvation induced hallucination. Except there was food in her belly and ice cold air in her lungs, it was all real.

Tommy and Maria led them towards the agricultural section of town, rows of greenhouses and animal pens lining their way.

“Hey, Joel, look,” Ellie pointed to the heard of sheep ahead of them, “Baaah,” she laughed before turning to Maria, “So are you, like, in charge?”

“No one person’s in charge,” Maria responded, “I’m on the council, democratically elected, serving 300 people, including children. Everyone pitches in. We rotate patrols, food prep, repairs, hunting, harvesting.”

“Everything you see in our town,” Tommy gestured around them, “Greenhouses, livestock, all shared. Collective ownership.”

”So, uh,” Joel figured, “Communism.”

Tommy was quick to scoff, “Nah. Nah, it ain’t like that.”

“It is that, literally,” Maria turned to her husband, “This is a commune. We’re communists.”

Tommy stopped short as the realization hit him, Joel and Y/n trailing behind purely to watch his full reaction.

“Easy there, soldier,” Y/n smirked, patting him on the shoulder while Joel matched her expression.

Rejoining Maria and Ellie, where Ellie was petting one of the horses poking their heads out of the stables, Maria changed subjects.

“Well, I’m sure they’d like a shower, some new clothes,” she addressed Tommy, “We can put them in the empty house across the street from us.”

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded, looking to Joel and Y/n, “It’s a decent place. Pretty much untouched since ‘03, but it’s the heat goin’ in it. Could do worse.”

“Oh, trust me,” Ellie spoke up, “We have been.”

“We’ve been doin’ fine,” Joel defended them, nervously rubbing his hands together. He needed to talk to his brother, just them.

Y/n was absentmindedly tapping her foot, matching Joel’s energy. The town itself was lovely, and Joel was bearable, but there was something about the combination of the two that was making her feel uneasy.

“Well,” Maria picked up on the mood, “I’ll take Ellie over there if you three wanna catch up?”

“Uh,” Y/n raised her hand quickly, “I’d actually love to join you.”

Tommy started to speak up, he was more than curious as to how Y/n and Joel had reunited. One look at the readiness in Joel’s eyes to be without her ceased his tongue from moving.

Ellie, however, had started to require both Joel and Y/n’s presence with her. Without one, she was restless. “Joel…”

“You’ll be fine,” Joel reassured her as he and Tommy walked off. He managed not to seek out Y/n’s eyes, it felt like the first time in days he’d had any control.

Y/n expected that parting from Joel would give her instant relief, but even when Maria led her and Ellie to their lodging, it didn’t come. In fact, the more distance they put between each other, the deeper Y/n could feel the anxiety within her. She was miserable with him and unsettled without him.

The house Maria assigned them was lovely, modest yet welcoming. Y/n nearly felt her heart break walking in, feeling the warmth of the air flood her body. It was like stepping back in time, a piece of seemingly meaningless history preserved perfectly.

“I’ll leave some clothes on the bed for you,” Maria told Ellie, pointing up the stairs, “First door on the left. There should be a towel and soap already there.”

Ellie looked expectantly to Y/n.

“I’ve got a few things to grab over at my place,” Maria said, “Maybe Y/n could help me?”

“Go,” Y/n nodded to the girl, “I’ll be back.”

Ellie filed upstairs, leaving Y/n and Maria to themselves. Maria made sure to lock the door on her way out, handing Y/n the key after.

“There’s only one, so don’t lose it,” she noted, leading Y/n across the street to her and Tommy’s house. The house felt much the same as the other one did, a few differences in designs, but nothing spectacular.

Maria began to rifle through a closet near the downstairs bathroom while Y/n meandered through the living room.

“Y’know, Tommy told me about you,” Maria called from across the room, “I’ve only heard your name once or twice. Every other time, he just referred to you as Rosebud.”

The nickname sent a sickening pain through Y/n’s stomach. “Oh, yeah,” she tried to play it off nonchalantly, “He gave me that nickname the night I met him and…”

“Joel?” Maria finished, popping her head out to try and get a read on Y/n’s reaction. She had a lot of feelings regarding her husband’s brother.

All Y/n felt capable of doing was nodding, blindly feeling around for the chair closest to her. She wandered the room, her eyes drifting to the fireplace before scanning her way up and-

Her heart stopped.

Sat on the mantle was a chalkboard, two names and two dates written across it.

Kevin - 4/3/00 - 9/29/03

Sarah - 7/20/89 - 9/27/03

Negative emotions always tended to stay right below the surface, regardless of the cliches about burying them. They were easily accessible under the right conditions, and if the wound was deep enough, it didn’t take much to trigger them. Y/n was already on the edge, teetering between holding onto the last bit of anger that had fueled her the past twenty years and collapsing under the weight of her grief.

Sarah’s name decided her fate.

And she crumbled.

—————————

“Those things I did, Tommy, those things you judge me for…I did those things to keep us alive.”

“We did those things,” Tommy pushed back, “And they weren’t “things’,” we murdered people. And I don’t judge you for it, we survived the only way we knew how…but there were other ways. We just weren’t any good at ‘em,” he paused, preparing himself for Joel’s reaction, “But I do judge you for what you did to Y/n.”

Joel sighed, he couldn’t take it. He physically could not handle discussing that day with Tommy.

“Joel, you l-“

“I know what I did,” Joel’s voice rose, he held up a hand more to calm himself than anything else.

“And now, twenty years later, here she is,” Tommy gestured to the door as if Y/n was right outside, “Do you even know where she’s been? What she’s been through? ‘Cause I don’t! And I’d have liked to know.”

Joel’s anxiety was beginning to bubble in his stomach, the vines climbing up his throat, ready to choke the life out of him.

“Have the two of you even talked about it?” Tommy asked calmly, his own emotions on the verge of showing.

Joel gripped the bar counter so hard, he thought he might snap the wood. He rolled the cold glass in his palm, trying to hold onto anything he could, as if it could save him from being sucked back into the vortex that was the past…

—————————

September 28th, 2003. Austin, Texas.

Cordyceps.

It was the only word people were capable of saying.

Cordyceps.

One little strand of fungi had taken out the entire world.

Joel, Y/n and Tommy ended up quarantined at a triage clinic. It was deemed one of the only “safe zones” for non-infected citizens. Dozens and dozens of people, crammed into a tiny building, practically sleeping on one another.

Joel had yet to string more than two words together since Sarah’s death. He was nearly unreachable. It was tragic enough for a parent to lose a child, it was another thing to cradle your daughter as she bleeds out in your arms.

Y/n felt like she was moving through cement, unable to fully comprehend what was going on around them. Her grief was overwhelming her, leaving her no more than twenty minute interludes between fits of wailing. But with Joel completely decommissioned, she was forced to rise to the occasion and take charge of their situation.

She returned from another attempt to reach her parent’s house, her cell phone getting no reception. She’d also tried the pay phone and Joel and Tommy’s phones. Nothing.

Y/n settled beside Joel in their corner of their hallway, it was nearly empty on account of it being the middle of the day. Most people took their walks around then. Tommy had volunteered to go out on patrol with a couple other veterans that were there.

“I still can’t get through,” Y/n started, hugging her knees to her chest, “Tried my parents, Annie, Jason…” she thought of her siblings, “Nothing.”

Joel didn’t even acknowledge her presence, he just kept staring down the hall.

“I have to get up there, Joel,” Y/n finally said, the thought had been keeping her awake all night, “I have to find them, make sure they’re okay.”

Many people assume that grief is but one emotion; sorrow. A deep sea of pain that you are thrown into without a floatiation device. But those who have never experienced it know not of the vastness of grief. There is anger, there is frustration, there is betrayal, there is jealousy…all of which can change you into an entirely different person.

And Joel was slipping away by the second.

“Joel, I have to go,” Y/n spelled it out in simpler terms for him.

Nothing.

“And I can’t go alone…” Y/n continued, worried that he had completely shut down. She rolled onto her knees, taking one of Joel’s cheek into her palm, “Joel, I need you.”

Joel stared forward, motionless.

Y/n was flying blind, unsure of how much was too much talking or how little she was supposed to be acknowledging Sarah’s death. But the world was, quite literally, falling apart. She couldn’t navigate the wreckage on her own.

“Joel,” she whispered, “I know it hurts-“

“Don’t,” Joel turned to her, the speed of it causing Y/n to pull her hand back, “Don’t.”

Y/n’s eyebrows came down in confusion, “Don’t what?”

“Don’t you act like you know what I’m feelin’,” he snapped, tears filling his eyes.

Of all the reactions, Y/n couldn’t have ever predicted this one.

“Joel, I was there too,” she replied, keeping her tone gentle, “I was-“

Joel pointed his finger at Y/n, their faces inches apart. “I’m her father,” he gritted through his teeth, “You were a bystander. They are not the same.”

Y/n inched back, bracing her body with her hands. He’d never so much as raised his voice at her.

As much as she wanted to let him grieve, she couldn’t let him descend into hostility. She wasn’t sure if her tactic would hurt him further or allow him to see the truth, but she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Joel…” she began, he was back staring numbly at the wall again. Y/n drew a shaky breath, the memory was so fresh in her mind, she could still hear Sarah’s voice. “She called me mom.”

If there was one thing about Joel’s reaction to his daughter’s death, it was the sheer delirium it threw his brain into. Much like Cordyceps, it was ripping through every cell of his body, changing the fundamentals of every inch. Whatever reaction he may have had to the news of Sarah’s decision had been poisoned by what he was allowing her loss to do to him.

He locked his hands together, gripping them so hard his knuckles turned white. Shutting his eyes, he let his head drop between his arms and took a shallow breath. “No, she didn’t.”

Y/n was afraid his mind was slipping away from her. “Joel, she did,” she continued, trying to push past the lump in her throat, “I went upstairs to bed a-and she called out for me.”

“She didn’t,” Joel repeated, his hands practically shaking with rage.

“Joel,” Y/n began, reaching up to touch his arm.

“NO!”

Joel jumped to his feet, his shout echoing in the empty room. He’d scared Y/n enough for her to fall back against the wall.

“She didn’t fuckin’ say it,” Joel aimed his finger at his girlfriend again, “You weren’t her damn mother.”

Y/n stared up at him with tears in her eyes.

“Doesn’t matter if you wanted to be,” Joel kept going, “Doesn’t matter if you tried. You weren’t. You were some fuckin’ woman livin’ in her house.”

Y/n got to her feet, trying ever so hard to be patient with Joel’s grief. But she wasn’t going to allow him to take her last normal moment she’d had with Sarah away from her.

“You weren’t there,” she argued back, “It happened, whether or not you want to believe it,” Y/n pointed a finger at her own chest, “She chose me.”

“You’re fuckin’ lyin’,” Joel growled, spinning away from Y/n and putting his hands to his hips. He couldn’t look at her.

Y/n was entirely lost, praying that Tommy returned soon. She couldn’t manage Joel in this state on her own.

Joel couldn’t see straight, let alone think straight. Only one thing seemed to ring true in his mind; Y/n was lying. She was a liar. She was lying about his dead daughter. What kind of monster would lie about a dead child?

Like a snowball rolling down a mountain, Joel’s delirious realization began to make sense, leaving him with only one course of action.

“I’m done.”

Y/n could barely register the sudden shift, from anger to calm. “What?”

Joel turned back to her, sweeping his hand through the air, “I’m done. We’re done.”

The air thickened suddenly, the stakes of his statement as important as the next breath Y/n drew.

“Joel-“

“No,” he shook his head quickly, “This is over. I’m not gonna stay with you when you’re lyin’ about my child-“

Y/n took an urgent step forward, reaching out for his arm, “Joel-“

“You don’t get to try and make yourself feel better about her now that she’s g-“ Joel choked on the word, flipping back to grief for a mere second, “Oh, God…”

Y/n was on the verge of panic, he was completely out of his mind. “Joel,” she urged, “Don’t do this. Take a breath and-“

Just like that, he was engorged in rage again. “Don’t. Don’t fuckin’ touch me, don’t even fuckin’ look at me.”

“Joel,” Y/n cried, her tears streaming down her face, “I love you. I’m here and I love you.”

Through the haze of insanity, Joel could feel her words. They wrapped around him, cradling him close to the warmth of her chest. He could almost feel something again, something pure and safe…it nearly pulled him back to shore.

Nearly.

Joel crossed the space between them, lowering his voice to a growl, “Well, I don’t love you.”

If there was an exact moment to point to as to when Y/n’s heart shattered, it was then. The force of Sarah’s death weighed so heavily on her chest, she was convinced she was in the midst of a heart attack. But when two tragedies occurred, so close together, it was always the second one that broke a person beyond repair. The second is unexpected, pushing you into a new level of grief you didn’t think you could feel. That was the one that could drive you to madness.

Snot and tears mixing across her lips, Y/n shook her head. “You don’t mean that,” she mumbled.

“I do,” Joel replied, his voice so full of confidence, “You’re a fuckin’ liar.”

Y/n felt like she was drowning, kicking and flailing under the waters, trying to find some way to make Joel believe her. To pull him out of his delusions.

The two lovers stood in the hall of the clinic, squaring off in a battle neither one of them knew how to fight. Their heartbreak was manifesting in completely opposite ways.

Scanning her face once more, to remember in the years to come, Joel turned on his heel and walked away from Y/n.

“W-wait,” she trembled, quickly following after him, “Where are you going?”

“To find Tommy,” Joel said, his fists curled at his sides as he marched through the clinic.

“Joel, stop,” Y/n begged, trying to keep up with his pace, “Joel!”

Joel made his way outside, where the clinic was still accepting injured civilians. All around them was tragedy, while one was unfolding between them.

“Joel,” Y/n called again, six feet behind him, the grief in her bones slowing her down, “Joel, you can’t go out there. Tommy said-“

“Don’t tell me what my own brother said,” Joel practically shouted, refusing to look back at her. He needed a quick escape.

Scanning the makeshift parking lot around them, he spotted an F1-50. He stalked towards it as if it were prey.

“Joel,” Y/n called in between her sobs, she was more terrified for him than anything else.

Once he got to the truck’s door, Joel slammed his fist without hesitation through the glass window.

“Joel!” Y/n cried, watching the blood begin to trickle down his knuckles.

Joel reached through the shattered window, felt around for the lock/unlock button on the door and clicked it. He threw the door open and got inside, the glass on the seat cutting through his jeans and into his thighs.

Y/n surged forward, Joel’s absolute insanity was becoming real. He was actually leaving her. She took hold of the door handle, “Joel, don’t. Don’t,” she hyperventilated, “I can’t do this without you. I can’t. I can’t.”

Her pleas began to crack the ice around his heart, just enough for him to allow another gust of icy wind through his chest. He became indifferent to her cries.

Joel slammed the door shut, the force of it pulling Y/n forward.

“Joel, don’t do this,” she sobbed, clinging to the side of the truck, “I love you. I love you. We can get through this. We can get through this.”

Joel felt around for the keys, finding them conveniently left in the ignition. He switched the truck on.

Y/n’s chest heaved, her window for reasoning with him closing. “No, Joel. Don’t do this! I love you, please, don’t do this.”

Joel’s body trembled, some sane part of him knowing that was he was doing was inhumane. But grief’s noose tightened around his throat, reminding him that the sicker state of mind was where he belonged now. His heart was nothing more than a liability now.

He pressed down on the gas pedal.

“No,” Y/n yelled as the truck shifted, she was practically tripping in the dirt trying to move with it, “Joel, don’t! Don’t do this to me! Please! Don’t do this to me!”

Joel ignored her cries, turning the truck towards the open road.

“Don’t do this,” Y/n shouted, her voice straining and fluctuating with her tears. If he didn’t stop soon, she wouldn’t be able to keep up with the truck. “Joel!”

The final cry did it, Joel couldn’t handle any more. He pressed down further on the pedal, jolting the truck forward.

Y/n was able to catch one last look at him, a final glimpse at the man she loved with her whole heart, leaving her as if she was nothing more than a dead body already. When her hand slipped from the truck, Joel having sped up to escape her, she knew he was forever lost to her.

She stopped running, screaming into the cloud of dirt he’d left, “JOEL!”

Y/n watched him steer the truck out of the clinic’s lot, pulling onto the dirt alongside the road and driving off. Her wet eyes followed the blur until it was completley out of sight.

That was when she fell apart.

She dropped to the ground, screeching like a wounded animal, clutching the ground underneath her fingers. She screamed loud enough for a clinic staff member to rush out, reaching out to help her. Y/n wrenched out of their loving grip, shrieking for them not to touch her. She didn’t want their oxygen masks, their sedatives or their counseling.

Sarah was gone. Joel had abandoned her. If this was death coming to collect her, she would go willingly into its embrace.

—————————

December 2023. Jackson, Wyoming.

Y/n dropped to her knees in the middle of Maria and Tommy’s living room, clutching her stomach.

“I think I found everything,” Maria announced, walking out from the closet and spotting Y/n. She rushed across the room, kneeling down beside her.

Silent sobs turned to violent ones, shaking Y/n’s body with a force she hadn’t felt in twenty years. Unlike that fateful day, Y/n allowed Maria’s caring arms to wrap around her as she wept.

“I’m sorry,” the kind woman said, pressing close to Y/n’s ear.

There was nothing anyone could say to put any of the pieces back together. Every part of Y/n’s grief over Sarah’s death, Joel’s abandonment, the choices she’d had to make after she was left on her own…it was all coming to the surface after three months of repression. The physicality of her sobs exhausted her less than the act of holding herself together in front of Ellie and Joel.

Five minutes or a half hour, Y/n wasn’t sure how long she spent on the floor, Maria cradling her as if she were a child. At some point, the tears stopped and she was once again aware of her surroundings.

“Tommy told me all about you,” Maria said, still holding Y/n, “About your family. How good you were with Sarah.”

Y/n sniffled, fighting the urge to gaze back up at the girl’s chalk-written name. It would only send her back into tears.

“It doesn’t matter what happened between you and Joel,” Maria continued, clearly she knew a lot more than perhaps she should have, “You helped raise that girl. Far as I’m concerned, you should feel a mother’s grief.”

A mumbled cry bubbled from Y/n’s lips. Every day she felt the loss of Sarah like that of a lost limb, the phantom pain constantly pulling at her body.

—————————

“I’m gonna be a father.”

Tommy’s words paralyzed Joel, he physically lost the sensation of his heartbeat, his breath…it all stopped, allowing grief and bitterness to fill the hollowness within him.

“To be honest, I’m scared to death,” Tommy lifted his glass to his lips, “But I don’t know, uh…” he smiled, “I feel like I’d be a good dad.”

Joel wanted to scream, he wanted to punch a hole through the fucking wall to counter the pain of the universe’s cruel slap.

“Guess we’ll find out,” he replied, reaching for the bottle of whiskey and refilling his glass.

“‘I guess we’ll find out?’” Tommy repeated, practically indignant as he looked to his big brother, “That’s all you got?”

Joel settled against the bar, keeping a firm stare on Tommy, “What else am I supposed to say?”

Tommy got to his feet, exhausted by bearing the brunt of Joel’s grief. “Just because life stopped for you,” he said, “Doesn’t mean it has to stop for me.”

Much like after losing Sarah, Joel was acting purely on emotion. The world had ripped away everything from him, and here Tommy was, with everything he’d almost had.

“We’ll grab some supplies and be out of your hair in the mornin’,” Joel bit out, turning from his brother and grabbing his jacket. He burst outside into the cold air.

—————————

“I, uh,” Y/n sniffled, trying to collect herself, “I should get back to Ellie.”

“Don’t worry,” Maria said softly, “I’ll take care of her. You take a moment to yourself.”

Y/n practically scoffed at the idea, she hadn’t had a second to herself in three months. But the tension within her was so great, she didn’t have the will to fight Maria on the offer.

“Thank you,” she laid a hand on Maria’s arm, letting the woman help her to her feet.

Y/n stumbled out into the cold, trying to absorb the sound of the children’s playful screams, the crunch of the snow under her boots, the feel of her breath slamming back into her face each time she exhaled…she’d had anxiety attacks before. Taking stock of your surroundings was supposed to help.

Except she was too far gone for coping strategies, she needed alcohol and she needed someone to talk to. Someone who understood.

On their way in, Maria had led them past a bar, and Y/n felt like a bloodhound, tracing her way back through the crowds to find it. The world may have changed, but she knew she’d find exactly who she needed at the counter with a thing of whiskey in his hand…

—————————

Joel stumbled out into the snow, leaning up against a metal lightpost. His breath was catching, his heart pounding out of his chest, the tinnitus flooding his ears once again…

Once upon a time, Tommy’s life had been his. He’d had his daughter, so bright and beautiful. A home that they’d made their own, despite the wounds that had led them there. And Y/n, his Y/n, the missing piece of his and Sarah’s life, a ring nearly on her finger…

And as much as he wanted to blame Cordyceps for losing all of it, he was hardly faultless.

He’d had twenty years of guilt soaked isolation, trying to convince himself that what his grief riddled self had thought was truth. Y/n had to have lied for him to continue on with life, because he couldn’t face the alternate. He couldn’t believe that he had abandoned her for no good reason…

It was a conclusion he’d come to weeks ago, the more time he spent with her reminding her of who she really was.

Across the way, there were families gathered around the Christmas tree. Joel’s eyes mindlessly drifted over them, catching on one woman’s silhouette. Her head of curls, the weightlessness of her voice…in his panicked state, it was Sarah.

He took clunky steps forward, chasing the illusion that his daughter was standing in front of him. He wanted, needed to believe it to be true. There had been some terrible mistake, they’d abandoned her body too soon and by the grace of God, she was-

A small child ran up to the woman, revealing her true face.

Joel stopped, his heartbreak pulling him back to reality. This was how far his mind could take him under the worst circumstances. He was convincing himself that his daughter was still alive and twenty years prior, he’d convinced himself that the love of his life was a liar.

It was grief that stood every chance at breaking him.

—————————

Y/n crossed through the middle of town, spotting the Christmas tree and the surrounding crowd singing and chattering around it. She couldn’t handle the sight, ducking into the bar as quick as she could.

Tommy turned around, glaring at the door, ready to rip into Joel further. “Oh,” he muttered, putting away his anger at the sight of Y/n, “Thought you were Joel.”

“I’m thankful you’re not,” Y/n remarked, walking to the counter and spotting the open whiskey bottle. He was everywhere she looked.

She reached over the counter and grabbed a glass, filling it a little over halfway, “You two not getting along?”

Tommy sighed, rolling his glass in his palm. “Complicated,” he answered, “But I’m preachin’ to the choir, aren’t I?”

Y/n bristled, lifting the glass to her lips and letting the burn of her throat force her into feeling something.

“Maria’s pregnant,” Tommy blurted out.

Y/n’s arm fell to the bar, the glass hitting it hard. To say she was shocked would have been a gross understatement.

Tommy smiled up at her, “That so hard to believe?”

“Well, you gotta cut me a little slack here,” Y/n replied, dazed, “The last time I knew you, there was a new girl every week. I was kinda half-convinced you already had a kid.”

Tommy chuckled, he’d missed her so much. He considered Y/n another loss from Cordyceps, though it chose his brother’s grief as its medium.

“I…” Y/n pulled out the barstool next to him and sat down, her mouth still agape, “How do you feel about it?”

“Good,” he nodded, “I think. Maria’s already been a mom before, but…I really do think I could be a good dad.”

Y/n rested her hand on Tommy’s wrist, drawing his eyes to her. “You’ll make a great dad,” she said, proud and with a smile. It was the first good look at him she’d gotten. Though he sported a few more wrinkles and scars, a mustache now hanging over his upper lip, his eyes still held the same sparkle.

Tommy beamed back at her, laying his hand over hers. The warmth shared between siblings still flowed between them.

“So that’s why…” Y/n glanced at the door, absentmindedly pointing outside.

“Yep,” Tommy turned back to his whiskey.

“Oh,” Y/n murmured, so caught up in the beauty of the news that she hadn’t thought about how Joel might have reacted.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Tommy asked.

Y/n shook her head with a small smirk, “C’mon, it’s been twenty years but you don’t have to be formal.”

It wasn’t formality, it was handling gasoline near a wildfire.

“How the hell are you two doin’ this?” Tommy asked, setting down his glass to give the topic his full attention.

In her anxious state, Y/n hadn’t stopped to think that Tommy would bring up the very thing she was running from.

“There were…” Y/n cleared her throat, “A lot of threats the first few days. Lots of hate. Mostly from me. But we had to…come to some sort of truce if we were going to get through this.”

“Joel told me you’re with the kid,” Tommy cut in, “She’s not yours?”

Y/n snorted, “No. But she’s…” she paused, unprepared to unpack what Ellie meant to her, “She wasn’t going with Joel unless I came with. So really, she’s to blame for all this.”

Tommy chuckled, taking a quick sip before repeating the same question he’d asked Joel, “You two talked about what happened yet?”

Y/n shrugged, feeling the weight of twenty years in her shoulders, “What’s there to talk about?”

“I think there’s everything to fuckin’ talk about,” Tommy replied.

The seat was suddenly digging into her thighs and there were electric currents in her legs. Y/n slid off the barstool, trying to take slow steps around the bar counter to deescalate her body’s nervous energy.

“How long did it take him to tell you what happened?” Y/n asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Ah, the full story?” Tommy said, shaking his head slightly, “All I heard when I got back from patrol was you two had broken up. I finally got it all pieced together after about two years. Gave him hell for it too.”

Y/n’s smile was filled with frustration, she threw back the last of her whiskey.

“I looked for you,” Tommy said, reiterating what he’d said at the gate, “I mean, I combed every fuckin’ inch of that place tryin’ to find you. I wasn’t gonna leave you.”

“I know,” Y/n replied, slipping behind the counter to pour herself another glass, “I figured that out at some point. That you wouldn’t have gone along with that…”

Tommy watched Y/n’s face carefully, a new emotion covering the expanse every few seconds.

“You don’t actually believe what he said, do you?”

Y/n poured a shot of a random liquor, “Why shouldn’t I believe him?”

“C’mon,” Tommy turned to her, “He was out of his mind with grief, we all were. He wasn’t thinkin’ straight.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/n raised a hand to her head, “Are you defending him?”

“Hell no,” Tommy gave a firm shake of his head, “I’m tryin’ to make you understand that he lied. He was lying. He didn’t stop lovin’ you, he-“

“Stop,” Y/n forcefully set the bottle down on the counter, some of it spilling out the top, “Stop. I don’t want to hear it.”

Tommy settled down in his seat, unaware he’d lifted off it while talking.

“You have no idea what I went through after he left,” Y/n struggled, her voice threatening to cease up, “What I had to do…” she sniffled, unable to hide the tears, “And then he came back. He fucking came back, and I haven’t been able to escape him for three months.”

Staying silent and still, Tommy allowed her the space to purge everything out of her system.

“And now we’re here,” Y/n gestured around them, her voice growing watery, “And it’s so fucking beautiful, I could cry. Look at me, I am,” she paused, squirming under the pressure of the sob building within her, “And it’s killing me. It’s killing me. To be here, to see you, to see all that…”

Y/n ran a hand through her hair, leaning against the counter. All that they could have had.

“I can’t,” Y/n held up a shaking hand, “I can’t…be near him right now. Because all I see is her, is us…and it’s fucking breaking me.”

Tommy looked down at his glass, wondering whether or not he was about to push too far. “That doesn’t sound like hate to me.”

Y/n’s bottom lip trembled, she knew exactly what it was. And she’d have rather died than admit it.

“Well, it needs to be,” she whispered.

——————

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @itwasallinmyhead1 @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed @superbreadsoul @hellu-people1 @ourautumn86 @inas-thing @noraapple05 @givemylovetoall @luvwanda (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #the last of us imagine #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #twenty years later

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half-oz-eddie · 1 month

Text

After Max snuck off one day, Steve brings her home right before Neil and Susan return.

Billy gives her and Steve shit about it on the porch, freezing up when Neil's car pulls into the driveway.

He notices the way Neil's normally hard and intimidating stare softens upon seeing Harrington in front of their house.

He greets him, shakes his hand, makes polite small talk with him and invites him in for dinner.

Steve glances over at Billy, noticing how he rolled his eyes and he politely declines.

"I really shouldn't—"

"I insist." Neil goads him, gently pushing him inside and leading him to the table. "Susan's cooking is divine."

Billy groaned. Of course, Steve was the golden boy everyone adored, even his own father. What was so perfect about him anyway?

Billy is imagining he can shoot lasers from his eyes at Steve, and Steve can feel the intention coming from Billy's glares.

He plans to leave early, but Neil offers him dessert, offers him a beer, asks if he wants to stay and watch the game.

Why the fuck's this guy being so nice to Steve?

Because the Harrington name holds so much prestige in Hawkins? Because it can help him get a promotion? What? What the fuck is it? It can't just be because of Steve.

Billy notices that Steve feels really awkward, but he's always been taught to be polite, so he does what any golden boy would do. He stays, he accepts Neil's kindness, he answers questions when asked.

Of course, Neil brings up Mr. Harrington, asking about his company and how it's doing.

His question seems really motivated and Billy's pissed off to the point of no return. He stands, politely excusing himself to his room.

"Don't you wanna watch the game, son?"

Son...?

Who in god's name was he talking to? Not me, Billy assumed.

Why was his voice so soft and his eyes so warm? That wasn't Neil. That wasn't Sir. Billy was afraid of this version of Neil and that warm smile that showed the crow's feet beside his beady, lying eyes.

Billy slowly sat back down next to Steve.

"Billy used to love baseball."

No I didn't.

"He lost interest. He's much better at basketball. Aren't you boys on the same team?"

"Yes, sir, we are." Steve nodded. "He's really good."

Neil laughed. "That's my boy."

What?! Am I in an alternate universe?

When the fever dream of a night ended, Neil told Billy to walk Steve to his car.

"Uh...See you at school?" Steve said uncertainly.

"Yeah." He watched Steve get into his car and walked back into his house.

Neil's warm, fake smile was gone, along with that soft welcoming voice.

It was all a facade, just as he'd assumed.

Neil ordered him to do the dishes, including Steve's. Nothing disgusted him more than cleaning up after Steve.

To make matters worse, this became a constant. Neil was letting Max's nerdy friends come over and Steve would pick them up, then circle back for dinner or a beer with Neil.

Neil would insist on including Billy, bragging about how strong, or how bright Billy was, bringing up the days in California, the very few good ones.

It pissed Billy off, but the nights Steve would come over, there was no shouting, no beatings and Neil was...nice.

Billy started passing notes to Steve at school, inviting him over, especially on Sundays so he didn't have to deal with Neil's bullshit on his day off.

At first, Steve would keep Neil out of Billy's hair, but then, Steve stopped by Billy's room to ask him why he always invited him over if he didn't wanna hang out.

"I thought maybe Neil'd like hanging out with you."

"So you invited me over to keep your dad company? Why don't you just hang out with him?"

"Because we don't get along. He's...he's not always like that." Billy quietly mumbled, hoping Neil didn't suddenly develop super hearing.

"Oh." Steve slowly shut the door. "So that's why you keep inviting me over?"

Billy shrugged.

"Well, Max told Dustin, and Dustin told me that your dad beats the hell out of you, that true?"

Billy's body tightened up and he went dead silent. "The fuck do you care?" He snapped.

"It's not cool." Steve sat on the floor across from Billy. "I don't wanna come here and keep hanging out with your dad. I kinda thought we were hanging out. That's why I would stay."

"You...wanted to hang out with me?" He skeptically narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah. I've been hoping we could get along for a change. I didn't know you were just using me to keep your dad out of your hair."

"I—I didn't think you'd wanna hang out with me. I thought you liked hanging out with Neil."

Steve laughed. "I don't hang out with old people."

"Yeah, you hang out with little kids instead."

"Shut up, I'm their babysitter. Those little shits are always getting into some kind of trouble."

"Whatever. So...d'you wanna like...hang...now?"

Steve nodded without hesitation. "Yeah. That's why I come here in the first place."

"You like Metallica?"

"No."

"Mötley Crüe?"

"Not really."

"Surfing?"

"Eh. Not really any beaches around."

Billy scoffed, shaking his head in disapproval. "The hell do you like?"

Steve pointed to a deck of cards on Billy's dresser. "Know how to play War?"

"Vaguely." Billy shrugged before grabbing the deck and handing it to Steve.

They played a few rounds of cards before they were laughing and shit-talking into the late hours of the night.

Neil didn't disturb them at all.

Dedicating this to @mangywayway since you're always being so kind when I'm feeling down. Tysm ❤️

#neil hargrove tw #abuse tw #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington

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wannabeschyulersister · 9 months

Text

not a goodbye

“I think you should go to New York.”

Carmen had been staring at the huge whole on the side of the house for the last twenty minutes. The cold air rushing through didn’t phase him at all.

Your words did.

“What? Wh-what are you talking about?”

“I overheard your conversation with Michelle. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. I was actually trying to avoid Fak. He was trying to talk to me about those damn baseball cards.” You stepped closer to Carmen and he grabbed your hand.

“I’m not going.” He simply said.

“Carmen, look around. This is chaos. Your future is so fucking bright but this-“ you waved your free hand around, “isn’t what’s good for you mentally. I love your family and I know that you do too but you have to put yourself first.”

Carmen was a stubborn man. After the fiasco that you both witnessed at dinner, you hoped that he would take up Michelle on her offer.

“I can’t put myself first. I need to be here for my mom and Sugar. Michael is just- he’s a mess. I can’t just leave everyone. I can’t leave you. I won’t- I won’t leave you. I need you.” Carmen felt like he was beginning to panic at the sheer thought of being away from you.

You placed your hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat begin to pick up faster. “Carmy, we wouldn’t be saying goodbye for long. I’m graduating in a few months. I’m sure there’s plenty of marketing agencies I can apply to work at in New York. And I can visit you as much as I can.”

Carmy shook his head stubbornly, “No, (Y/n). Didn’t you see what just happened here? I can’t leave them like this!”

“You can’t put the weight of the world on your shoulders,” you told him, hoping he would listen to your words, “You can’t fix everyone’s problems especially if they don’t want to help themselves.”

Carmen rested his forehead against your shoulder and wrapped his arms around you. He knew deep down you were right. In that moment, it all felt so overwhelming. His family was a disaster.

He didn’t want you to attend his family’s dinner tonight but he still invited you anyways. He knew how badly things could turn out to be but he selfishly wanted you there for support.

Carmen held your hand during dinner when everything went to hell. He honestly didn’t even know how he would’ve sat there and handled anything without you by his side.

You’d been around his family dozens of times. Sugar adored you. Michael made you feel welcomed as soon as he first met you. Donna was another story. You understood the situation and avoided her as much as you could. You were always respectful and spoke to her, but you didn’t go out of your way to strike a conversation. She had the ability to completely snap on someone and you didn’t want it to happen to you.

“You really think I should go?” He asked you softly.

“Yes, I do. I believe in your future. In our future. I know you’re going to do amazing things, Carmy.”

You felt him kiss your neck, “I love you.”

“And I love you. I know it’s going to be hard but we can make it.”

He nodded before kissing your lips, “We can make it.”

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x (y/n)#the bear x reader #the bear imagine #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto

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shankschewtoy · 1 year

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Hello 😊

I saw your request were open and I might want to have the Monster trio + Katakuri with an s/o where they visit their s/o town where they were Born only to see that they were unwelcomed here and thrown with Foul tomatoes and other things, and seeing how their s/o react to nothing, just smiling. How would the boys react?

And take your time, take Breaks and I wish you a good day/afternoon/night 🩵🩵

a/n - oh my goodness, where could the entire island’s population have gone?? Katakuri : they’re probably on- vacation?… 💀

Warnings ⚠️ - a slight bit of crack (my specialty), g/n reader, reader has a deadly devilfruit ability

- Katakuri was excited to see your hometown! After all, he wanted to see where his lovely, perfect y/n was born 💜 as you two disembarked off the ship, Katakuri was holding your hand, he was slightly, just a bit nervous to meet your hometown friends/people, would they approve of him even though he looked pretty scary?

- “Don’t be nervous Kuri, they are very nice, and they’ll love you!” You reassured him with your sweet smile, bringing him comfort as he nodded down at you, pulling his scarf up before you two approached the town. A farmer took sight of you, realizing who you were, and his expression turned rotten

- he looked disgusted at the mere sight of you, for a moment, Katakuri thought he was referring to him, not you. Who the hell would dare to look at you like that?! “Damn it! It’s y/n!” The man shouted before others started to run outside their houses, rotten fruit, garbage, and trash in their hands. They all had the same look of absolute disdain written all over their faces as they stared down at you

- “GET THEM!” They shouted, throwing whatever they could at you. Rotten fruit splattering all over your nice clothes, baseballs flying right past your head, grazing your cheek. Katakuri started to block them with his arms, easily knocking them backwards.

- he was beyond furious at this point, yet when he looked down at you, he saw something he didn’t expect. You were- smiling?? He didn’t think you’d be smiling at this! This wasn’t exactly a fun experience was it? “You idiots, stop throwing random stuff at them, I will not hesitate to destroy you.” Katakuri said, a wave of haki surging over them to insert himself into the fight. no one dared to object Katakuri, what were they going to do against a 20ft man-? You led him away from them to a tiny run-down house on a hill, and you sad down on top of the fluffy grass

- “Y/n, why are they throwing stuff at you? You said they were nice.” He was trying his best not to- literally just annihilate this entire island, which he could do with ease, but he didn’t want you to feel as if your home had been destroyed by him.

- “They never really liked me. Maybe because I had a devil fruit ability that’s dangerous.” You said with a laugh, holding your hands out in front of you. He looked saddened at how you were so lighthearted about all of this… But he knew exactly what to do now. And it would happen after you fell asleep tonight.

- In the morning, you started to pack your stuff up, walking towards the town to leave. You already were expecting the fruit to come flying at you, perhaps they’d be more creative about the stuff they threw at you today.

- “Y/n-sama!! Welcome back-!” The farmer from the day before said, bowing his head to you. You were shocked- what the hell happened?! “Everyone! Y/n has returned!” The man shouted before all the others started to run out, handing you bags of food, even the children tried to offer you their stuffed toys :)

- “Katakuri- did you threaten them??? And how badly did you threaten them?!” You said to him with a shocked expression. He shook his head, “I just told them what an amazing person you were. I promise i didn’t threaten them.” You stared at him with an eyebrow raised as if you were waiting for his full answer. He felt sweat start to form on his forehead at your glance, for such a sweet person, jesus you were intimidating to him.

- “…I threatened them a little bit, just a little bit. And I beat up one of them.” He said truthfully. You pinched his arm with a scoff, but you were grateful for him. Thank god you had such a wonderful man in your life. :)

- Don’t expect Luffy to have any self control when it comes to food, and protecting you and his friends. Honestly he was happy to visit this island! You said that it had good food, that was good enough for him. “Hey y/n, what kinda food do they have???”

- “A lot of meat and fruits.” You said with a smile, handing him a bag to carry the meat they’d take back to the ship. “OOOOOOOOO-! THEN LET’S GO NOW!!” He yelled, stretching his arm towards a tree on the island, grabbing you as you both launched yourselves over there. You’d never get used to his impulsive behavior, never.

- “Shishishi~ this island is so cool! It’s so green!” Luffy said excitedly before grabbing your by your arm, running over towards the town. Once you guys made it, the farmers and shop owners took notice of your presence immediately

- “Y/n’s back?!” They shouted angrily, starting to crowd in front of you both. Luffy looked confused, “Y/n are you famous? That’s cool!” He said with a grin

- “They’re not famous you damn pirate! They’ve been known for that crazy ability they have! All they do is come over here and destroy everything… Why would you come back?!” They shouted angrily, throwing fruit at your face.

- before one could hit you, luffy caught it, “Why are you wasting food? And why are you trying to hurt y/n?! You mean their devil fruit?! IT’S AWESOME WHAT DO YOU MEAN?! You guys are so dumb! Don’t even think about hurting them!” Luffy shouted, throwing it right back at them with a devilish glare.

- the villagers almost collapsed from the intensity of his glare, but then when he turned towards you, he looked all happy go lucky again. “C’mon y/n! Let’s go get some meat!!!” He said happily, following the scent of a restaurant nearby.

- Luffy may not be that smart, but he was the best thing that ever happened to you. No one would ever protect you like this before… You loved him, so much.

- of course Sanji would love to visit your hometown! You’re such a wonderful person, perhaps your town would be the most beautiful town he’s seen!

- he thought it could be kinda like a date, so he forced Luffy to stay behind, much to his dismay. “NO- TAKE ME WITH YOU! I’M SO HUNGRYYYYY-“ he cried before you two walked away from the ship, his cries of hunger fading.

- poor Luffy… But he can go five minutes without a snack right? After all, this was about you showing Sanji your home! He held your hand, walking with you towards the distant houses, staring lovingly at your beautiful smile.

- he could stare for days if he could, just seeing your smile made him so happy to be alive. As you two neared the village, the people saw you and Sanji, and they started to walk towards you. “Get out of here y/n! We never wanted you to come back with pirates! You were enough trouble already!” They shouted angrily, holding random items in their hands

- Sanji was confused, you were the literal opposite of trouble, what the hell were they talking about? He stood in front of you, holding his arm up to protect you from the incoming fruit that splattered on the ground. Nothing made Sanji more pissed than people daring to even try to hurt you, and people who wasted food…

- he picked up the dirt ridden tomato, going over to the man who threw it, and then shoving it into his mouth. “Don’t you ever throw things at y/n, and don’t even think about wasting food on my watch!” He yelled angrily, shoving it down his throat as the man started choking on the food.

- “This guy’s crazy- I knew they were trouble!” The woman shouted as they started running away. He turned towards you and wiped off the glare on his face as he looked at you with a gentle gaze. “Are you ok? They didn’t hit you right?” He asked, inspecting your clothes.

- “Uh- no they didn’t… Thank you Sanji.” You replied with a shocked expression. No one in this town would ever protect you when you were younger, you weren’t used to this. He put his arm out for you to hold, and led you down the grassy paths to the shops to buy some groceries for the ship. No one dared to even say a word to you when Sanji was there glaring at them the whole time.

- “I won’t let anyone hit you y/n, I promise.”

- in my mind I don’t think they’d be alive anymore after they throw stuff at you but for the sake of this let’s say he let them live 💀

- Zoro initially didn’t really care about seeing your hometown, but if it meant spending time with you then he’d gladly go. He yawned, walking with you, his swords clinging together on his belt. “What’s his town called again?” He asked curiously, taking a swig of his alcohol quickly. “It’s called Fuja, the people are nice here, so try not to draw your swords..”

- “I won’t, unless they piss me off.” He replied as you punched him in the shoulder. “Ow! Stop! Ok fine I won’t!” He said, holding his arm like a big baby as you laughed at him. He glared at you with a pout before crossing his arms angrily.

- The people of the town saw you both walking through, and they started to form a circle around you, much to Zoro’s confusion. “The hell? You guys need directions or something?” He asked with a confused expression. They looked towards you with the most disgusted looks Zoro had ever seen before. “Why the hell would you come back y/n?! Did we not teach you before that you weren’t allowed here anymore?” They asked you with angry looks on their faces.

- you smiled at them with your normal gentle demeanor. Zoro glared at them, “The hell did you say? We’re not allowed here? We’re pirates, we do whatever the fuck we want. Now get out of our way.” Zoro said, looking back at them with a pissed off expression.

- they obviously backed down, they couldn’t even hope to land a hit on Zoro if they tried. “I don’t like this town y/n, let’s just get the stuff and go back.” He said, walking ahead with his hands behind his head, the people clearing a path for him. You smiled softly at him, grateful for him standing up for you. But then quickly you realized your boyfriend had disappeared into the crowd right before your eyes. “Zoro-?! Where did you go?!”

- meanwhile…

- “This doesn’t look like the thousand sunny.” He was literally on a completely different pirate ship that was already leaving the docks. “Did y/n get lost again? God- what an idiot..” 💀

a/n - Zoro is so fucking dumb 💀💀💀

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drewsbuzzcut · 1 year

Text

Between All The Gasping I Finally Breathe

college baseball player!drew starkey x fem!reader

a college baseball au fic

warnings: mentions of miscarriage and pregnancy, talks of pregnancy symptoms, mourning, angst

You and Drew are hanging out with his family in Houston. They all came down to scope out your new home and to help with unpacking. You had thought things would be awkward being that you and Drew just got back together about 2 weeks ago, but everything was perfect. They were all still welcoming and loving as always. You really appreciated them.

The day had been perfect. It started in the early morning, coffee and small talk in their hotel because a lot of your furniture hadn’t arrived yet. You all wandered around the city, stopping in various shops, and now you all are seated at a lovely restaurant, laughing and smiling.

His family, albeit excited for the both of you, are still sad that their son isn’t going to be so close to them anymore. However, looking at the two of you so caught up in each other, they know you both will be just fine.

Towards the end of dinner, Drew’s older, little sister calls for everyone’s attention. Once everyone is quiet, she hands a gift bag to both her parents. Everyone else is waiting in anticipation to see what’s the surprise. Drew’s mom gasps and gets up to hug her daughter, and her father is speechless.

“What do you think it is?” You lean into Drew’s body and whisper in his ear.

He just says that he isn’t sure, and when the waiting becomes too much, he gets up to find out what it is.

“I’m pregnant!” His sister gleams! Everyone starts to get up to congratulate her and her husband, but you’re temporarily frozen. You look up and lock eyes with Drew, his expression is dejected while also trying to look happy. You’re finding it hard to keep the tears at bay, but you get up anyway and congratulate the couple.

Some people might find that announcing a new baby around someone who’s recently lost a baby, a bit insensitive, but Drew’s family had no idea about your situation. You never told them, hell, you and Drew haven’t even talked about it fully. You’ve talked about everything else, but losing the baby. Not because you didn’t want, but because you didn’t how. It was hard. It still made you awfully sad.

You’re quick to tell them that you’re happy for them, and it’s not like you didn’t mean. You were happy for them. You pull Drew’s sister in for a tight hug, but when her stomach presses to yours, you want to burst into tears.

“Y/n, hon, you’re tearing up,” she tells you.

“I know. I know. I’m just so happy for you,” it was a lie, but you knew now wasn’t the time to talk about your loss.

Drew comes from behind to hug the both of you. He moves one of his hands to rest on your stomach and it makes you pull away. You couldn’t fathom his hand there as if there was life growing in your stomach. He notices your actions, but tries not to show that it got to him.

The rest of the night goes as seamlessly as possible. You don’t add in much to the conversation, and the mixed drink you got tastes bitter in your mouth because you shouldn’t even be able to drink because you should still be pregnant. You’re having a hard time not wallowing in your sorrows.

When you and Drew leave, his truck is dead silent. He isn’t sure what to say. Five minutes into the ride your tears spill over. You didn’t bother trying to hold them back. Drew noticed, so he just grabbed your hand over the middle console. He squeezed it three times in a silent “I love you.” It makes your sobs harder, so you move his hand that was holding yours to rest over your heart. You needed it to soothe you.

Upon arriving at your and Drew’s apartment, you go through your night routine and quickly lay down. You still haven’t said a word, same with Drew.

It’s 11:11 p.m. and you’re both in bed, laying on your backs, trying to figure out what to say. Drew scoots his body closer to yours, wrapping one arm from underneath you and turning to his side to face you.

“What was it like when you found out you were pregnant?” Drew breaks the long lasting silence. He was finally ready to know about your pregnancy. Of course, if you had wanted to talk about it earlier, he would listen, but he wasn’t really ready until now.

“I was really scared, but I was also really happy,” you say.

“I wish I was there with you,” he says back.

“I wanted to tell you. I tried so hard to get myself to call you, but I just didn’t want to force our relationship to heal when we were still at odds with each other,” you explain.

He just nods his head and scoots even closer to you. His free hand holds one of yours tightly, trying to comfort you.

“Did you feel different? Did you have morning sickness? Did they kick? Did you find out what gender they were?” Drew unloads all the questions swimming around in his head.

“Yeah, my body felt different. It was weird because I knew I wasn’t the only one that needed to be taken care of. I didn’t have morning sickness which I was really grateful for,” you tell him before spacing out, realizing that you never got to feel kicks or movement.

“What?” Drew grows concerned. He released his hand from your hold and places it on your cheek, rubbing your cheekbone.

“I never got to feel them move. No kicks. No anything. They were always still.”

The tears start welling up in your eyes, your breathing becomes heavier, and now you don’t know if your baby even existed. Drew moved to rest his head in the crook of your neck, just needing to be connected to you in every way.

“I didn’t know their gender either. It was still too early. I was only about 4 months. I wish I did, though. Maybe I could’ve given them a name. Maybe this would’ve been easier, I don’t know. I just wish that I could know what they look like and what they would be like. I bet they would’ve had your beautiful eyes and beautiful smile. They would’ve been just as smart and caring as you are,” you think out loud.

You feel droplets hit your skin, causing you to rearrange yourself so that you’re face to face with Drew. When you see him crying, your tears finally release themselves. It doesn’t take long before your sobs wrack through your body. You grip his body tight, not wanting him to ever leave you.

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you, Drew.”

You wipe away his tears, but the action causes more to spill.

“You’re the strongest person I know,” he assures you.

“Drew, I want a baby,” you admit.

“I do, too. I want you to have my babies.”

“I don’t know if I can go through another pregnancy right now,” you say hesitantly, not wanting him to get upset.

“You don’t have to, babe. Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready,” he affirms.

“I think I want a tattoo in memory of them. Would you go with me and hold my hand?”

“I’d go anywhere with you,” he says before kissing you.

You move around so that your back is pressed against his chest. He has one arm thrown around your chest, and you move one of his hands to rest on your belly. You needed that warmth there. You needed something to patch up that hole. You needed his love. He’d never deny you of it. So as you both lay on your mattress in your empty apartment, staring out through the window and looking at all of downtown, you finally feel like you can breathe. You and Drew were going to get through this.

a/n: A little idea I had! It’s sad, but I have some happy ideas, too. Hope you all enjoy!

#drew starkey #drew starkey fic #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey smut #drew starkey angst #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey fanfiction #obx cast #obx3

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zackcollins · 1 year

Text

Post Draft Interview || TOR vs CWS || 06/25/16

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piratefalls · 5 months

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oh my god this got obscenely long. you're welcome?

list one. list two. list three. list four.

Any Beat of Your Heart (Gets Me Through the Night) by stellarmeadow

Alex throws out the first pitch at the Opening Day baseball game, but things go horribly wrong.

kiss me once 'cause you know by ninzied

Of all the things they’ve been to one another—sometimes-rivals, reluctant allies, tediously cordial seatmates at international events—Henry never thought that he and Alex would end up being something like friends. (In which Alex sort of moves in and they don't talk about what it means.)

Mr. BodyPillow by inexplicablymine

“It is hard enough trying to get a date out here when all I really want is to curl up with someone’s head on my chest and play with their hair” “I could do that for you sweetheart” _______ Two boys cuddling on a couch right on top of each other because they are in fact very gay™. Inviting over a complete stranger for cuddles because you are touch starved might be the worst idea Henry has ever had, or the best.

Little Moments by politics_and_prose

Five significant moments in Alex's political career and one in his personal life.

The Case Of The Fucking Curse by everwitch

Henry gets inflicted by a deadly royal curse. The only way to break it is to have sex with a person who possesses the correct physical compatibility, so the crown puts out a desperate plea for people meeting the right criteria to enter a screening process. You’ll never guess who turns out to be the final candidate at the end. Or: the most wholesome Fuck Or Die you’ve read in your life.

You Got Me, and Baby I Got You by princebutt

Alexander Claremont-Diaz, charismatic center for the NHL's Dallas Stars, is completely and utterly smitten with the posh British librarian he met by complete accident. Tonight is the night, and he's got a plan to completely woo Henry and get his man.

cowboy like me by stutteringpeach

Alex was looking for money tonight. And with Henry Mountchristen-Windsor, the gorgeous young heir to the Windsor Group, he sure as hell found it. If Alex is looking to charm someone out of their millions, it might as well be someone he’s going to enjoy stealing from.

but if you could see us from a distance, you'd know i've always been so close to you by anincompletelist (soldouthaz)

Objectively, standing half-soaked from rainwater with a stitch in his side and an uncomfortable, raging hard-on outside his worst enemy’s door is not Henry’s finest moment. It’s not even on the list. -- or, henry is afflicted with a curse-gone-wrong that stipulates that only his sworn enemy, alex claremont-diaz, can touch him.

(did my love aid and abet you?) by alasse

That night in Kensington Palace, Henry told Alex to leave. Eleven years later, Alex watches on the news as Henry comes out, and abdicates. A story of what came before, and what comes after.

It’s been eleven fucking years, and Henry is finally free. It’s been eleven fucking years, and Henry is finally out. It’s been eleven fucking years, and Alex Claremont-Diaz still hasn’t learned how to be normal about Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor.

it's a scene (and we're out here in plain sight) by annesbonny

"I don’t want us to be in the press for anything other than how good I am at polo, and how charming you look in that shirt.” Henry just wants the Fifth Annual Okonjo Foundation Polo Match to run smoothly, but that's harder than it seems.

lover, tell me if you can by loyaulte_me_lie

Henry has a wobble on their first anniversary. They practise healthy communication and everything ends happily.

Debasing the Prince (And Other Inappropriate Decisions) by orphan_account

Henry in a suit and tie turns Alex into a combination of the heart-eyed and drooling emojis. He can't help it that the goddamned prince of England looks glorious all dressed up. So he meets him in his bedroom and does super inappropriate things with the tie and the prince. This is basically Tale of the Debauchery of a Prince™.

Soon You'll Get Better (Because You Have To) by wafflesandkruge

Two nights after the shooting, Henry receives an email with a pre-recorded video from Alex. He gets one every night, and although it breaks his heart to see Alex happy and alive, he's terrified of when they'll stop coming.

(when you look like that) i never ever wanted to be so bad by hipsterchrist

“How many times have I told you now?” Henry asks, voice still quiet. “In the bedroom, we’re equals.” Alex knows a door left ajar intentionally when he sees it.“ But we’re not in the bedroom, are we?” he mutters. Henry smirks and turns away. Alex nearly falls over trying to follow the loss of Henry’s hand on his face. “It certainly would seem that way,” Henry says, loud and clear, leaning against the wall again. “And so I will have to insist on some degree of deference. Do you think you can manage that?” Or, Alex has a fantasy involving a tack room and Henry's polo uniform, and Henry is all too happy to fulfill it.

if i ever saw you try to be a saint by inmoonlightigetseasick

He turns back, waiting for further instruction from Luna when Henry actually gets up and approaches him to talk. “I must apologize about the hour,” he says, faking sincerity so well Alex recants his doubts about Henry’s acting chops, “this was my fault, I have a shoot for a music video later today and after that I’m on a flight back to jolly old England as it were, loads of publicity for the latest album.” “You sound like a busy guy,” Alex says, with a small, tight smile, “sure you’ll have time for our little movie?” “I will make the time,” he says, his eyes are a bottomless blue, they shine, deceptively truthful, he turns to Luna, “I cannot tell you how great an honour it is to be considered for this role. What you’ve done here,” he gestures to his script, “I think it’s amazing.” Alex hates that Henry is right. -- AU in which Alex is an up-and-coming actor slated to star in in-demand director Rafael Luna's highly anticipated queer coming-of-age film. For Alex, keen to share his own bisexuality with the world, it's the perfect project to be his true starmaking vehicle -- but for one thing-- his nemesis Henry Fox, a wildly popular rock star, might end up playing his love interest.

searching low in the night by saltfics

“Just say it's okay. I just need to hear you say that.” Henry steps outside for just a second, but when Alex goes to find him, he finds only empty streets and an excrutiating feeling of dread in his place.

whenever you're ready by perfect-porcelain (tedddylupin)

“Pez. Please, will you stop tagging me in TikTok thirst traps?” Henry asked as he stepped into his friend’s car. Pez lowered his Gucci sunglasses on his nose, looking at Henry without anything obscuring his vision and just laughed before pushing them back up with his middle finger. “Don’t fucking lie to me, I know you love them.” Or: the one where Henry falls in lust with a TikToker making pottery and leaves drunken thirst comments

hold me close (when the cameras are off) by viciouslyqueer

Henry Fox is a very well-known model. It’s hard to name a magazine he hasn’t been on the cover of, or a photographer that isn’t ready to drop everything just to book a shoot with him. Now he’s barely smiling, slightly parted lips, yet somehow still looking kind as the photographer behind the camera takes picture after picture. His pristine blond hair is delicately styled so it doesn’t fall out of place, and the cherry blossom flowers next to him and beige background give him an angelic look that makes people in the studio stop what they’re doing just to watch. He looks beautiful. Alex hates it. — When models Alex and Henry have to pose together for a shoot, Alex realizes he might not hate Henry after all.

it was you he gave me by coffeecatsme

The tattoo artist traces Alex’s thigh with a gloved finger as she grabs the needle, brows furrowed as if she’s trying to make sense of the lettering. “This is beautiful,” she says, awe in her voice. Alex feels a sort of pride surge through him. “Who’s the poet?” Alex smiles. “If I tell you, can you keep a secret?” Or, Alex finds a pen in their sex toy drawer and Henry finds a use for it.

yours for the afternoon by railmedaddy

“Another day then, tomorrow? Or Saturday, I can do Saturday, I’ll give you my number,” Hunter says, starting to reach for Henry’s phone. Henry knocks it off the table and prays it doesn’t crack. Christ. Is he going to have to leave the coffee shop to get rid of Hunter? He bends down to pick his phone up and when he rights himself, Hunter is waiting expectantly with his hand out for Henry’s phone. He drops it into his bag under the table. “Very kind of you Hunter, but I’m really quite booked up and—" “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart,” comes a drawl Henry vaguely recognises. OR Henry is quietly minding his own business in his favourite coffee shop, when he’s rudely interrupted by an insufferable man attempting to flirt with him. He’s rescued by none other than Alex – a fellow cafe regular who he’s long admired from a distance – posing as his date.

Háblame dulce by QueenKatelynTheAristocrat

"Alex gently drew Henry back to the waking world on a lazy Tuesday morning in their brownstone with a kiss, a cup of Earl Gray, and the words, “Hoy, hablamos español.” Also known as: Henry is learning Spanish for Alex, and Alex is happy to help him.

5 Times Alex Went Viral (+1 Time Henry Did) by clottedcreamfudge

Alex downloads TikTok on a Saturday and by Monday he's completely obsessed. Henry is clearly a little bewildered by this, but he doesn't seem to mind when Alex starts singing sea shanties and trying - with limited success - to harmonise with himself in the shower. *** aka FicTok (aka ‘Five times Alex tested TikTok trends on Henry and one time Henry got his own back’) (aka 'Five times Alex made life hard for Henry and one time Henry just made Alex hard' - you can blame ifyoustay for that one)

Slide, Crawl into the Shades of Light by Mags (sparklepocalypse)

Eventually, they part long enough to buckle their seatbelts, and then the car eases forward in the direction of Kensington Palace. Alex reaches across the seat and cups Henry’s cheek. “You’ve been biting your lips again,” he notes, rubbing a thumb over the rough skin. “When we get back to the apartment we should run a bath, and maybe after, I can make you some tea.” Henry smiles – and it nearly reaches his eyes – and covers Alex’s hand with his own. “That sounds wonderful,” he murmurs. “It’s been a long week.” (Post-movie; Alex and Henry doing that transcontinental couple life thing, and Henry's had a shit week. Alex gives him several orgasms about it.)

A Tiny Shred of Hope by cmere

Henry reacts in the immediate aftermath of his first kiss with Alex.

Most Cordially Invited by aldiara

In which a formal invitation is extended, a royal mirror is defiled, and Alex cusses a lot.

The Bet by bleedingballroomfloor

Looking back at it, it's all Nora's fault. Or, the time Henry and Alex bet on who can last the longest without sex.

Play Me a Song by allmylovesatonce

Every night, like clockwork, Alex's upstairs neighbor plays the piano for two hours, giving Alex the motivation to sit and do his own work so that he can listen. One night, he leaves a letter for his neighbor to thank him for the music. When his neighbor comes to his door to thank him for the note, he finds it's the same cute guy he's been running into in the lobby.

Speak for Yourself by LolaLand (Lola_di_Penates)

Alex could have walked out of the Williamsburg apartment at any time. Instead, he decides to sign up to twelve months of Henry. OR Alex makes a rash decision and Henry inexplicably runs with it. (The "accidental housemates" AU that literally no-one asked for).

london bridge has fallen down by indomitablelove

Alex can feel the eyes of the room on him as Shaan approaches his side. Then, Shaan quietly murmurs in his ear. They’re words he’s thought about before, distantly wondering about what might happen when they were finally uttered. How their lives might change. There’s nothing that can prepare him for the reality of it though, nothing that can prepare him for how his breath hitches when Shaan speaks. ‘London Bridge is down, Sir.’ --- Queen Mary is dead. Henry doesn't know how to feel.

i wouldn't stop for red lights by matherine

There are flowers on Henry’s desk when he comes into work. They’re pretty, really – chosen by someone who knows him, because there are hydrangeas and white roses and daffodils, and certainly not enough baby’s breath for the bouquet to have been cheap. Not that Henry would make assumptions, nor that he’s the sort of person that would look up the cost of a gift, but he knows who put it here. Even before he looks at the little card attached to a rose’s stem, he knows, because he gets flowers every April 15th.

Water over Blood by happinessofthepursuit

5 times a member of the British Royal Family was in love with Alex + 1 time they loved Henry

The Prince of Sex: A Collaborative Nightmare by aceinadeck, fairycat, ifigo, MaikkaPakka, ohgaywarden, Princess_Nales

"Alex is waiting for his lover Phillip, when he arrives in the bedroom Alex's jaw drops. Philip is wearing a pair of tight leather pants the outline of his massive horse cock is clearly visible and Alex can't wait to have it pump thick squirts of warm cum inside him and his butt." *** It started as a joke, something that Pez found in the depths of Real Person Fiction on Wattpad that none of them really wanted to explore too much. But he brought it up as a drinking game, something that would get all of them absolutely wasted since this was the first time they were able to get together in almost four months.

An Open Heart by absoluteaudacity

"But, and I hope you’ll forgive me for taking so long to get to the point, they listened and hugged me and told me they loved me no matter what. I gather they feel very guilty that I felt I had to keep my sexuality a secret. Mum had to stop Dad from going straight down to Buckingham and yelling at Gran; I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so angry. They’ve agreed that we’ll keep it to the family for the moment but they’ve made it clear I have their support if I ever want to come out publicly. We’re a long way from that, I think, but at least I know the way is partially clear for us. At least I don’t have to pretend anymore."

It's Getting Hot in Here (So Hot!) by Celaestis

Henry’s firm and unwavering belief in Alex’s hetrosexuality does wonders for their relationship. He can coexist with Alex in the same lobby for entire half-minutes at a time while checking for post, he can make solid eye contact during glances in the hallway. Alex is still the most beautiful man he’s ever beheld, and maybe Henry’s hook-ups are tending towards the Latino types more than they ever did in the UK, but still. Alex is straight. Henry is fine about it. Really.

i'd fall to pieces on the floor if you weren't around by karish

Suddenly, Alex feels like he’s gonna throw up and he feels cold all over. Because this sounds like a goodbye. It sounds like a suicide note. Fuck. God. Please no. AKA: Alex wakes up to find a note from Henry and jumps to the worst possible conclusions.

Wedding Talk by maritinkerbell

“You know, H, I’m not sure anything is going to give me greater pleasure than forcing all your homophobic cousins to smile and make nice while I put a fucking ring on it.” OR An upcoming family wedding leads Henry and Alex to discuss marriage for the first time.

Little Secrets Grow Up To Be Big Lies by DracoWillHearAboutThis

Henry meets Alex in a café as he's hiding from the Crown, the media and the public in general. But Alex is charming and alluring and draws him in right away. Alex also has no idea that he's a Prince.

Give Me Comfort, Give Me Help by dwell_the_brave

“I’ll be back by Thursday,” Philip promises, giving Martha a hand up the jet’s steps. She gives them a brief wave from the top of the stairs before disappearing. “Make sure you don’t ski off a cliff!” Bea calls after him as he follows his wife into the jet. He waves a hand dismissively at her and then withdraws into the darkness of the cabin. That’s the last thing any of them say to him. - Philip dies, and Henry becomes heir.

i could be a better boyfriend by bananzie

It wasn't that Alex didn't like telling people about Henry—quite the opposite, actually—it was just that no one ever believed him when he did. An AU in which Henry is one of England’s most famous rugby players, Alex met him during an exchange year, and they’re so in love it’s sickening, but no one believes him.

Just like that. by myheartalive

“I’m so glad my subpar sexual encounter has fed the brain worms. Something’s got to keep the little guys going.” Henry’s more relaxed now that he’s teasing Alex, and looks a lot more like his normal self. It feels a little easier to talk to him, to actually say what he’s thinking. “It’s just… I realised if that was me, I also wouldn’t know how to do it. How to find your…” “Prostate?” “Yeah. That.” — When Henry comes home from a date frustrated by the guy’s lack of expertise, Alex starts having thoughts. And then, because he’s Alex, he sticks his big foot in his even bigger mouth.

Kinda think that I might be his type by kiwiana

“Bea.” He clambers onto his knees, grabbing her hands in his own. “Bea, take me to Thanksgiving with you.” Bea blinks. Blinks again. “What?” “Bea, I could terrorise your gran until she’s begging you to stay single forever.” Or, Alex agrees to be his friend's fake boyfriend for a weekend. He is not prepared for his friend's brother.

until next wednesday! if you want me to tag you in future lists, let me know!

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince #alex and henry #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #Alex x Henry #fic rec #RWRB fic rec #RWRB fanfiction #rwrb rec list

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