໒ — LOSER RODRICK THOTS

"What remains of us"

outbreak! Joel miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel doesn't die after the brutal encounter with abby because you saved him on time.

wc: 4k>

warnings: angst,mentions of blood, mentions of murder (reader becomes violent), fluff, mentions of broken bones. english is not my first language so excuse my mistakes. Written in a rush.

a/n: so uhmm. How are we feeling? I personally feel broken by the events from episode 2 so I rewrite the story while i was free in the morning to help me cope with the grief and joel is alive.

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Something felt wrong in your bones the moment the snowstorm hit harder than expected.

Not just the kind of wrong that came with whiteout conditions and freezing wind — this was deeper. Ancient. It whispered through the trees like a secret from another world, brushing icy fingers down your spine. A warning dressed up as weather. You felt it in your chest, in the weight behind your ribs, where your breath stayed too long before escaping.

Your skin burned from cold, your limbs throbbed with fatigue — but none of it compared to the way your heart pounded. Not from exertion.

From fear.

“Hey, you alright?” Jesse called ahead, pulling his scarf down just enough to glance at you.

You nodded too fast. “Yeah, just—cold.”

Ellie was further up the ridge, carving her own path through the deepening snow with the horse, unaware of how your whole body shook with more than frost. You hadn’t told them. Couldn’t. How do you explain that your body knew something your mind hadn’t caught up to yet? That every step forward felt like walking away from safety?

Your heart was screaming in a language older than logic. Since the morning. Since Joel left before you could fully wake up.

The echo of his voice still lingered in your memory — low and warm, brushing against your ear as you stirred under the covers.

“Get some more sleep, darling”

But he hadn’t kissed your forehead like usual. He hadn’t lingered. And when you finally did get up, your gut twisted when you saw the empty space in the stable, the saddle still had damp with snow.

Joel was out there with Dina; you had no idea under what circumstances. And the sky had turned gray with anger.

You shook your head, tried to focus on Jesse’s voice. Tried not to feed the panic unraveling in your chest like a pulled thread. But the cold in your mind spread, and no matter how tightly you gripped the reins, no matter how fast your horse moved, the feeling remained.

Something was wrong.

You finally found a rundown outpost, an old hunting cabin half-buried in snow and swallowed by pine trees. The roof sagged, one of the windows was cracked, and the door barely held on its hinges, but it was shelter. You and Jesse pulled your horses inside the narrow lean-to out back, while Ellie stomped snow off her shoes and kicked the door open with more force than necessary.

Inside, it was cold and smelled like old weed and damp rot, but you didn’t care.

There was a radio.

You didn’t hesitate. Your gloves were off before Jesse could even say anything. Your fingers moved over the knobs, turning dials, trying to find the frequency Jackson always used for patrol check-ins.

A burst of static.

Then another.

Finally, a signal.

Your breath caught. “Jackson patrol, do you copy?”

Ellie moved closer. Jesse pulled his scarf down, suddenly silent.

“Joel? Dina? Come in.”

Only static.

“Come on,” you muttered, heart hammering, twisting the dial again. “Joel, please, respond.”

Nothing.

The silence wasn’t ordinary. You knew silence. This wasn’t delay. It was absence.

Your body went rigid, every instinct screaming louder than your racing thoughts. Your limbs moved before you made the decision. You were out the door and into the snow again before Jesse or Ellie could stop you.

Jesse called after you.

But Ellie was already grabbing her rifle.

“Where are you going?” Jesse yelled, chasing behind.

“Something’s wrong!” you snapped, swinging onto your horse. “I just know it!”

Ellie mounted up beside you, eyes wide and fierce. “Then we’re not wasting time.”

Jesse hesitated, glancing between you both and the radio inside.

“You don’t even know if that’s where they went—”

“I know,” you growled, already riding. “I feel it.”

Ellie followed without a word.

The snow clawed at your skin like it wanted to peel the truth away. The wind howled as if it knew what was waiting ahead. But you didn’t stop.

Because something had happened.

And Joel and Dina were out there.

You and Ellie rode hard, the snow whipping across your faces like knives, the hooves of your horses lost beneath the storm. You could barely see five feet ahead — but then, in the distance, a glow.

“Shit,” Ellie hissed beside you, pulling her hood lower.

You followed her gaze. Through the trees, past the slope of the hill — firelight. Orange, flickering, wrong. It wasn't from a patrol cabin or torch post. It rose in a bloom, too wild to be controlled. You slowed your horse as your stomach dropped.

“It’s from Jackson,” you whispered, more to yourself than to Ellie.

It wasn’t the whole town, not yet. But something was burning. And it was enough to send a coil of panic twisting through your gut, feeding that same deep certainty that had been clawing at you all day.

“Come on,” you growled, spurring your horse harder, cutting off the cold fear before it could settle. “We are too far.”

And it wasn’t long before you saw it, the lodge.

It sat crooked and hunched near a clearing, like it had been dropped there by accident. One of the side windows was shattered. Smoke was seeping through cracks in the boarded upper floor. The front door hung ajar, barely moving in the wind.

You pulled hard on the reins. Your horse bucked a little, skidding in the snow. Ellie drew her rifle and slid off hers.

Your eyes locked on two shapes near the side of the lodge.

Horses.

Your heart stopped.

Joel’s and Dina’s.

Both were tied loosely, their coats soaked with snow, hooves pawing nervously at the ground. Alone. No movement near the front entrance. No voices. No patrols. No sounds but the wind and the creak of the old building groaning under weight it wasn’t meant to bear.

You slid off your horse.

“Ellie…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, breath clouding in front of you.

She already had her knife out.

“Oh shit...”

You didn’t wait for backup. Couldn’t.

Because Joel’s horse was here. And he wasn’t.

And whatever was inside that building, you felt it—It was about to break you open.

The sound of screams of agony and a body hitting the ground echoed down the hallway like a gunshot.

You knew that sound. It was torture. It was pain.

Your boots thundered down the corridor of the lodge, Ellie at your side, a worry and desperate look in her eyes. She’d followed the path like a wolf hunting a pray, her eyes screaming please don’t let it be too late.

You didn’t say a word. Couldn’t. Your heart was stuck in your throat, and the only thing that moved was your body, in fast motion, furious, drawn to the man who should have never left your side in the first place.

Then you saw it. The door, a from inside, screaming slipping from the lips you used to kiss every day. Joel’s screams.

You didn’t wait. You didn’t breathe. You kicked the door open and your world shattered.

Joel was on the floor, a mess of blood and pain and something worse. His legs bent at unnatural angles. One hand barely raised in instinct. His face, bruised, bleeding, one eye swollen shut. His body twitched like it wasn’t sure if it should keep trying.

And above him, a woman. Blonde. Rage carved into her face like she’d practiced it. Her arms raised again, a golf club in her grip, stained red.

She didn’t see you at first. Her eyes were solely focus on Joel, but you weren’t having that.

You roared, not screamed, roared and tackled her with everything you had, all your weight, all your fury. You slammed her into the wall with a force that cracked wood. The club dropped from her hand and hit the ground.

“No more.” you growled.

Her people came fast, like shadows. One tackled Ellie to the ground. Another raised a knife.

But they hadn’t counted on you.

You were already moving, eyes wild, mind gone. You fought like someone who had nothing left but him.

You weren’t skilled like Joel. You didn’t need to be. You were desperate. Right now, you were desperate.

Fists cracked bone. You took hits but didn’t stop. Didn’t feel them. You were pulling someone off Ellie, dragging them by their collar, throwing them into a chair that splintered on impact. You used what you had — a piece of wood, a broken lamp, your fists, your fury.

And they couldn’t stop you. Because you couldn’t be stopped.

The blonde tried to rise again. You met her halfway and slammed her back to the floor. She spat blood. You didn’t flinch.

“Get away from him!” you screamed.

The crack of your shotgun echoed like thunder as the first shell slammed into one of the men flanking her. Blood hit the wall. Chaos exploded in every direction.

“Who the fuck—?!” Abby turned, fury and shock colliding in her face.

You dropped the shotgun, drew your blade, and charged.

The first one that tried to reached for you got a knife through the ribs. You shoved him off like he was made of paper. The next came at you with a bat, you caught the swing and used his momentum to slam him face-first into the fireplace bricks.

“You don’t get to touch him,” you hissed. “Not him.”

Abby swung the club toward your face. You ducked.

Then you hit her. Right in the gut. The force of it sent her staggering back, wind knocked from her lungs.

“You wanna kill him?” you growled. “Try me first!”

She looked at you like she wanted to, but she hesitated.

And that was her mistake.

Because Ellie broke free just long enough to grab your dropped shotgun and aim it at her. “Step back,” she spat, blood in her teeth, voice shaking but solid.

“Now.”

Abby looked between the two of you. At Joel — bleeding, still breathing — at her fallen group. Then she backed off, raising her hands slightly.

“This isn’t over,” she said.

“Yeah,” you snapped, “it is.” You said, pointing your gun right between her brows.

Your shotgun echoed in the stillness of the room.

The blast slammed into her chest, and her body jerked back like a puppet with its strings cut. She hit the floor; eyes wide. No final words. No redemption. Just silence.

Ellie flinched.

You stood over Abby’s body, breath hitching, heart pounding in your ears. The room reek of blood and then there was silence, except for Joel’s ragged breath.

You dropped beside as your knees had finally given out.

“Hey,” you whispered, your voice cracking into pieces. “Joel, look at me. I’m here. I got you.”

His one good eye fluttered open, dazed, unfocused. There was blood crusted at his brow, dried and fresh, a cruel mask across the face you’d kissed so many times before.

“Y-you---"he rasped, voice like torn gravel.

You nodded, cradling his face in your hands, not caring that blood smeared across your palms. “I’m here. You’re safe. Don’t you dare go anywhere.”

His breath stuttered, chest rising too slow, too shallow. His eyes couldn’t stay fixed on you. They wandered, like he wasn’t fully in the room anymore.

“I thought I lost you,” you whispered, leaning close. Your forehead rested against his, warm against cold.

“Hurts,” he mumbled, eyes slipping closed again.

“No, no,” you said quickly, your hands gently patting his face. “Stay with me. I’ve got you. You’re gonna be okay. Help’s coming, okay? Just—just hold on.”

But he didn’t answer. His breathing slowed.

Your heart lurched in panic. “Joel!”

Nothing.

You pressed your fingers to his pulse—still there, but faint.

“Don’t you do this,” you choked out. “You fight, dammit. You’ve been through worse, haven’t you? Don’t you leave me now.”

You’d already faced your worst nightmare. Now you were living in it, holding it in your arms.

Joel lay limp and broken on the floor, his breath rattling against the stillness. His face was swollen and unrecognizable on one side, purple and black with bruising. One eye swollen shut. Blood trickled from his nose, his mouth, the side of his head. His legs—

Don’t think about the legs. Not now.

“Hey,” you whispered again, voice hoarse. “Joel. You still with me?”

A faint groan. Barely audible.

But it was enough.

He was still here.

You pulled off your jacket and shoved it under his head. Your hands were shaking, but your mind was locked in: every first aid trick you’d learned from scraps of survival guides, emergency manuals, anything Joel had ever shown you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. You had paid attention.

You just never thought you’d be using it on him.

Dina stumbled in, still pale and groggy, her hand gripping the wall. “Ellie?” she rasped. “Wh—what the fuck happened…?”

You didn’t look up. “You were drugged. Ellie is moving the bodies. We need the space.”

Dina staggered past, gagging at the sight of blood, but she didn’t hesitate. She knew. The air had changed.

This was a war zone. A zone you had built in seconds because you didn’t know what else to do. You blinded yourself; you had become a murderer monster just to save Joel.

You pulled Joel’s shirt open — shredded, stained with red. Purple splotches across his ribs. Swelling. At least two broken.

Your voice cracked. “You’re gonna hate me for this, Joel. But I have to move you.”

“Don’t…” he mumbled, almost unconscious. “Just… leave me—”

“Shut up,” you said, fierce now, your tears splashing onto his collarbone. “Don’t you dare say that. You don’t get to give up.”

Ellie appeared, face pale, blood on her shirt, Dina behind her with a blanket and an old mattress from the back.

“We cleared the room,” Ellie said. “It’s just us now.”

“Good,” you said. “Help me splint his legs. We need to keep him still until we can get him out of here.”

You tore up a curtain and grabbed two broken chair legs. It wasn’t perfect, but nothing about this was. Ellie held Joel’s leg as steady as she could, while you worked the makeshift splint around the worst of the fractures.

Joel screamed.

It was guttural, raw as if he was being dragged through hell.

You didn’t flinch. “I know,” you whispered, pressing your forehead to his as you tied the cloth tight. “I know, I know, I’m sorry. I’ve got you.”

You felt his breath against your skin, shallow and hot.

His lips moved. “Why?” he whispered.

You leaned back and looked at him. “Because I love you,” you said simply.

His eye fluttered open — just barely. And for one fragile second, the pain slipped away. There was only you and you brush the hair from Joel’s face. He was burning up. You needed to clean the wounds. Stop the bleeding. Keep him warm.

Keep him alive.

And somehow, by the grace of whatever broken god still watched over you all, you would.

You pressed a damp cloth to his temple where skin had split beneath Abby’s final blow. His blood soaked through instantly. You didn’t stop. You couldn’t.

Your hands moved on their own now. Wash. Compress. Tie. Splint. Whisper to him. Stay with me. Please stay with me.

Ellie and Dina had gone quiet. Standing behind you. Watching. Waiting for direction.

Then your voice broke through the stillness.

“Go back to Jackson.”

Ellie flinched, like she hadn’t expected you to speak.

You didn’t look up. You were holding Joel’s hand — limp and calloused in yours.

“We need help,” you said, barely audible. Your voice was shot. A raw whisper. “Tell Tommy… tell him to send help. We need to get Joel back there.”

Silence. Just the sound of Joel breathing. The sound of blood dripping from the club Abby left behind.

“Please,” you added, and that word cracked like bone. “Please. I can’t carry him by myself. He’s—he’s too heavy. He’s—”

You swallowed hard. Your fingers curled tighter around Joel’s hand.

Ellie stepped forward. “We’re not leaving you.”

You finally looked up, eyes glassy and red-rimmed. “You have to. We need a stretcher, a team. Horses. Anything. I can keep him alive for a few more hours. But I can’t move him like this.”

Ellie’s jaw clenched. Her knuckles went white. “I don’t want to leave you with him like this.”

You reached out, brushing Joel’s graying hair from his brow with trembling fingers. “I’ve got him.”

A pause.

Then Dina touched Ellie’s arm. “I’ll go,” she said gently. “I’ll ride. I’m faster. You stay.”

Ellie nodded, eyes not leaving yours.

You left a loud gasp “No,” you said quietly, lifting your eyes once more to Ellie’s. “Ellie… you go with Dina. I’ll stay here.”

Ellie’s shoulders stiffened. Her brows pulled together like she was bracing for another blow. “What? No. I’m not leaving you and him.”

You sat back on your knees, your hands bloodied, trembling. Joel’s chest rose and fell in shallow, ragged motions beneath you.

“You have to,” you said, your voice breaking. “You have to, Ellie. Dina shouldn’t be riding alone.”

Ellie looked at Joel. Looked at you. And shook her head. “I can’t leave him like this. I can’t.”

You grabbed her hand.

That startled her.

It startled you too.

But you held on, grounding her, pulling her attention back to your face. Your voice dropped to a whisper.

“Please,” you said. “Please. Help me save him.”

Ellie’s eyes filled. Not with tears — not yet — but with everything she couldn’t say. The guilt. The fury. The fear that maybe… it was too late.

But you looked at her like there was still something worth fighting for.

And Ellie, for the first time in what felt like forever, let herself believe it.

She swallowed hard. Nodded once.

“I’ll go.”

Your chest caved with relief. Joel let out a faint groan beneath you, and you turned back to him, brushing your thumb against his jaw.

“I’m here, baby,” you whispered. “I’m right here.”

Ellie hesitated at the doorway. “Will he be okay?” she asked before daring to step a foot outside the room.

You nodded, but it was instinct, automatic, hopeful, desperate. The truth lodged in your throat like a splinter you couldn’t spit out.

“I don’t know,” you said softly, voice trembling. “I—I need to stop the bleeding. His leg is bad. His ribs—fuck, I don’t know how much damage they did.” Your eyes flicked over Joel’s body again, breath catching at the way his chest rose unevenly. “But he’s breathing. And that’s something.”

Ellie stepped closer, still pale, still wide-eyed, her clothes soaked with blood—some hers, some not. “What do you need me to do?”

You looked up at her then, and for a split second, she looked like a kid again. Shaken. Haunted. But standing tall.

“Just go back to Jackson and bring help,” you said, your voice barely more than a breath.

Ellie’s eyes burned. She nodded once; jaw clenched. “Okay. Okay. Just hold on, please.”

You gave her one last look. “I’ll keep him breathing.”

She was gone the next second—boots pounding out the door, calling for Dina. You were left in the broken room, just you and Joel and the slow drip of blood on floorboards.

You pressed your hands to the worst of the wounds, breath shaking. “You hear that, Joel?” you whispered, pressing your forehead to his. “Help’s coming.”

He didn’t speak. But his fingers twitched again, slow, and curled around your wrist.

It wasn’t much but it meant he was still here.

That night felt heavy like wet ash. Outside, the snowstorm had died to a bitter hiss. The wind still screamed through cracks in the lodge, but inside, everything had gone quiet—except for the sound of Joel’s ragged breath and the low creak of floorboards every time you moved.

You’d done everything you could.

His legs were splinted crudely with a broken table leg and belts. His wounds were packed with gauze you tore from your own coat lining. You boiled snow over a fire in the next room just to clean the worst of the blood from his side. You weren’t a medic. But you were a woman in love. And that made you terrifying.

He’d faded in and out of consciousness, his lips murmuring your name between groans, sometimes not even sure it was real. You sat beside him, your back against the bloodstained wall, holding his hand in both of yours.

But then it went still.

You hadn’t realized how quiet it had gotten until the sound stopped completely.

“Joel?” you whispered, leaning close.

No answer.

You shook his shoulder, gently. Then harder. “Joel.”

Nothing. His head lolled to the side. His skin felt clammy beneath your palm.

Your breath broke in your throat. “No, no—please, no. Joel—” You cupped his cheeks. “You stay with me; do you hear me?”

Still nothing. And then a twitch.

His brow twitched. His lips parted, barely, and a broken whisper slipped out.

“…Sarah.”

The name came out like a breath lost in time. You froze. Your heart cracked open.

His eyes fluttered beneath closed lids, a flicker of life.

In his mind, it was Austin again.

The smell of smoke and gasoline in the air. Sirens in the distance. Sarah was laughing, running ahead of him, calling back over her shoulder: “Dad, come on!”

And he was smiling. Genuinely smiling. He could hear her. Feel her hand in his again. It was warm. Real.

He turned and they were on the couch. Watching a movie. She was leaning against him, head on his shoulder. He’d just said something dumb. She rolled her eyes. He didn’t want to blink—afraid it’d all vanish.

But then came the gunshot.

Her warmth gone. He spun. He screamed for her. And when he looked down—

You were there.

In the memory. Not Sarah. You. Covered in blood. Crying. Calling his name.

Joel, please. Please.

Your hands were glowing with firelight, trembling as they pressed against his chest.

He tried to reach for you. He couldn’t move. The world was slipping.

And then—your voice cut through the haze.

“Joel, please. Please don’t do this.”

His heart stuttered once. Then again. A sharp inhale tore through his chest as if he’d been drowning.

“Joel!”

He coughed, body shaking, and your hands caught him just in time.

You sobbed, half-laughing as you gripped his cheeks again. “You scared the shit out of me—oh my god” you sobbed.

He looked up at you, dazed, confused. Then his eyes cleared, just a little.

“You were crying…” he mumbled, lips cracked.

“Yeah,” you whispered, brushing your thumb beneath his eye. “Yeah, I was.”

He blinked slowly. “Stop...”

“I won’t,” you promised. “I’m here. I’m staying.”

And as the fire cracked quietly, Joel leaned ever so slightly into your palm, the pain pulling at him, but your voice anchoring him.

The night lingered like a wound that wouldn’t close.

You didn’t sleep.

Your body screamed for rest, but you stayed next to Joel—watching the way his chest rose and fell, slow and shallow, praying it wouldn’t stop again. Every time his breath caught or he groaned too hard, your stomach twisted into knots.

The lodge was cold. Blood had dried into the floorboards. The fire in the next room was too far away to warm either of you, and you didn’t dare move him to get closer.

So you pressed your body to his side gently, just enough to share warmth without causing him pain.

“Still with me?” you whispered.

His eyes fluttered open, sluggish and heavy. “Yeah…” His voice was more gravel than sound.

You breathed out a shaky laugh, your forehead resting lightly against his temple. “You’re stubborn as hell, y’know that?”

Joel let out a faint puff of breath—maybe a laugh, maybe a wince. “…Learned from the best.”

Your throat clenched. You reached for his hand again, interlocking your fingers with his—gingerly, so you wouldn’t brush the torn knuckles.

“I thought I lost you,” you whispered.

His eyes moved—slow, searching—until they landed on you again. Then he mumbled something you barely heard.

Silence settled like snow. You closed your eyes, listening to the wind groaning against the walls. Time stretched, only broken by Joel’s breath stuttering again.

Then—his fingers twitched around yours.

Then you whispered, “Joel?”

He made a sound.

“I love you.”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes were glassy with pain. But then he squeezed your hand, and his voice came soft, barely a breath.

“I love you too.”

It felt like the first time he had told you those three words and that had broken you in the gentlest way.

You buried your face in his shoulder, careful of the bruises, and let yourself cry—not in panic, not in fear. But in overwhelming, soul-shaking relief. He was alive.

He was alive.

Joel woke to the soft hum of voices and some old machines. The scent of cleaner stung his nose before the light even reached his eyes.

His body was pain, muted but deep, like a dull echo in his bones. He tried to move, but something warm and heavy rested on his side.

Your head.

You were slumped in a chair beside him, your cheek pressed gently to his arm. Your fingers were laced with his, your grip loose with sleep but still holding on. Still there.

The light in the room was soft, filtering through the curtained window like morning fog. Outside, life stirred in Jackson. But here, it was quiet. Just the two of you.

Joel blinked slowly, his throat dry, the taste of cotton still on his tongue. His gaze drifted down to you. There was a crease between your brows even in rest. You looked exhausted. Pale. Eyes ringed with shadows.

But you were here.

He breathed your name, raw and hoarse.

You stirred at the sound, your head lifting slowly as if from the depths of a dream. Your eyes met his, still sleep-warm but wide with shock. Disbelief flickered, then relief so powerful it made your lips tremble.

“Joel…” you whispered, leaving a sob behind.

His smile was small. Barely there. “You didn’t leave.”

Your hand came up to cup his cheek. “Never,” you said. “You scared the hell out of me.”

He swallowed hard, his hand tightening weakly around yours. “How long?”

“Three weeks,” you said, voice shaking with the memory. “You were unconscious the first few days back. Fever wouldn’t break. They weren’t sure if you’d make it through the second night…”

He looked at you again, really looked. “And you sat here the whole damn time?”

You gave a soft, broken laugh. “Where else would I be?”

His good eye softened. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

You leaned closer, resting your forehead to his. “You promised me once you wouldn’t leave me.”

He nodded faintly, his eyes closing for a moment as your breath mingled.

Your fingers brushed his temple, so gently, as if afraid he’d fade again like some half-formed dream. Joel’s skin was warm beneath your touch, warmer than it had been in days, and that alone nearly broke you all over again.

“It’s going to take time,” you whispered, your voice barely louder than the hum of the machines. “To heal. For everything.”

Joel didn’t say anything, but you felt the tremor in his breath.

You threaded your fingers more tightly with his. “But I’m not going anywhere. You hear me?” you said, firmer now, voice catching on the tears in your throat. “I’m not leaving your side. You will get sick of me.”

His lips parted like he wanted to argue, maybe even protest, but then he looked at you again. Really looked. The cut on his brow. The bruising on his cheekbone. The pain behind his eye, and beyond that, the softness that only came when it was just you.

“You shouldn’t have had to—”

“I had to,” you cut in, gently but unshakable. “Because I love you. Because I couldn’t lose you. And I won’t.” you paused to take a deep breath before continuing, “You and I will grow old together, and we will die peacefully in farm, together.”

Joel blinked. His hand tightened slightly in yours again, like the only strength he had left was meant for that one touch. His voice was barely a whisper when he said, “I don’t deserve you.”

You leaned in and kissed his forehead, bruised, stitched, healing. “You’re mine, Joel. And I’m yours. That’s not about deserving. That’s just how it is.”

Silence fell, heavy but not suffocating. The kind of silence where you could finally breathe again. Where you knew, he was going to live.

Joel let his head rest back into the pillow, the edge of a tear slipping from the corner of his eye.

“Okay,” he whispered, smiling at you.

You smiled through your tears, the kind that burned hot down your cheeks but carried no pain—only release. Relief. Love.

You shifted in the chair, reaching up to brush a bit of hair back from his forehead, careful not to touch where it was most tender. His skin warmed beneath your fingertips. Alive. He was alive. The reality of that still hadn’t fully settled in.

“I’m gonna be here when you wake up,” you promised, voice like a hush of wind through leaves. “Every morning. Every damn day if I have to. You focus on getting better.”

Joel's smile trembled, worn and crooked, but it was his. The first real smile you'd seen in so long it felt like a lifetime ago. His good eye drifted shut, but not before his fingers gave yours one more squeeze, like he couldn’t bear to let go even in sleep.

You watched him as his breathing evened out again, slow and steady, like the beat of a familiar song you never thought you’d hear again. The machines hummed softly beside him. The faint glow of a streetlamp outside filtered through the hospital window, painting golden lines across the bedsheets.

You rested your head by his side again, your cheek brushing his arm, eyes closing just for a moment. Not to sleep, but to hold the feeling. The warmth. The miracle.

He was still here.

And you would be, too. Always.

I have a request for Lando Norris x Sister!reader where she gets cheated on. Please🫶🏻 I love your writing

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 🧡

Big Brother to the Rescue

The paddock was buzzing with activity, fans cheering and cameras clicking as drivers moved between interviews and meetings. It was a typical race weekend—hectic, thrilling, and intense. But for Yn, none of it seemed to matter.

She walked beside Lando, her older brother, keeping her head down. Normally, she loved being at the Grand Prix. She’d tease Lando about his starts, laugh at his banter with the other drivers, and soak in the high-energy atmosphere. But today, her heart felt heavy.

Lando, always in tune with her moods, glanced down at her and frowned. “You’re too quiet,” he said as they reached the McLaren hospitality area. “This isn’t like you. What’s wrong?”

Yn sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

That was all it took for Lando’s protective instincts to kick in. “Oh, you’re definitely talking about it. Did something happen? Who do I need to fight?”

Yn couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at his immediate leap to violence. “It’s nothing. Just...my boyfriend cheated on me.”

Lando froze mid-step. He turned to her, his expression shifting from shock to anger. “He what?”

“Cheated,” Yn repeated, her voice cracking slightly. “With some girl he met at a party. I found out yesterday.”

Lando clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. “That absolute—” He cut himself off, taking a deep breath. “Okay. First of all, you don’t deserve that. Second, I’m going to make sure you’re okay. And third, if I ever see him, he’s toast.”

Yn smiled faintly at his overprotective tone. “Thanks, Lan. But I don’t think anything can cheer me up right now.”

Lando wasn’t having it. “Challenge accepted.”

---

Throughout the morning, Lando hovered around her like a mother hen. He brought her tea, her favorite snacks, and even a McLaren hoodie to keep her warm. The other drivers began to notice.

“Why is Yn so quiet today?” Carlos asked, walking over to where she sat with her tea. “You’re usually giving Lando a hard time.”

“She’s going through something,” Lando replied, his tone making it clear the topic was off-limits. He wrapped an arm around Yn’s shoulders and pulled her closer. “But don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. He ruffled Yn’s hair affectionately before heading off.

A little while later, Charles and Pierre stopped by. “Yn, you’re not smiling,” Charles said, crouching down to her eye level. “That’s illegal. Lando, what have you done?”

“For once, it’s not my fault,” Lando said, rolling his eyes. “She’s just—she’s sad. Leave her alone.”

Pierre, never one to resist a joke, smirked. “Do you need us to scare someone off? We’re good at that.”

“I can scare people off just fine,” Lando said firmly. “Thanks.”

Yn managed a small laugh, which made Charles and Pierre exchange victorious looks.

---

Later, when Ollie came by, he took one look at Yn and immediately tried to lighten the mood. “I’ve got an idea,” he announced, sitting down beside her. “What if I became your new boyfriend? I’d treat you like a queen.”

Yn laughed for the first time all day, the sound catching Lando’s attention from across the room. He walked over, arms crossed.

“Really, Ollie?” Lando said, glaring at his friend. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“What?” Ollie said, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “I’m just saying, I’d be an upgrade.”

Yn shook her head, still giggling. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous, but effective,” Ollie said, winking at her.

Lando wasn’t amused. “Stick to racing, mate.”

Ollie shrugged and walked off, leaving Yn smiling. “He’s an idiot,” she said, leaning her head on Lando’s shoulder.

“True,” Lando agreed. “But if it made you laugh, I’ll allow it.”

---

As the day wore on, Lando continued to dote on Yn. He handed her tissues when she teared up, reminded her to drink water, and even skipped a strategy meeting to sit with her in the quiet corner of the hospitality area.

“You know,” Yn said softly, “you’re a really good brother.”

“Obviously,” Lando replied with a smirk. “But thanks. And for real, Yn, don’t let that guy make you feel like you’re not enough. He’s the idiot, not you.”

Yn sniffled and smiled up at him. “You’re the best.”

“Duh,” Lando said, pulling her into a hug. “Now, what do you say we watch the race together? I’ll dedicate my first overtake to you.”

Yn laughed, feeling lighter than she had all day. “Deal.”

By the time the sun set over the paddock, Yn was back to herself, and it was all thanks to Lando—her overprotective, slightly annoying, but always reliable big brother.

the lion and the golden retriever snippet

would you maybe be willing to write a lance stroll x fem! reader where she’s a driver and at some gala everyone is all dressed up and they’re like “how did he pull????” but they’re just so in love he doesn’t care! ty! never requested anything before lol!

Lance stroll x driver!reader

a/n: as i was writing this i fell in love w the concept so I’m going to be writing a longer imagine for this AU

—-----------------------------------------

The relationship between you and Lance was something that a lot of people just couldn’t understand. Lance was chill, not one to stir the pot, usually keeping to himself. You were loud, always in the media chirping another driver, always wearing something borderline inappropriate when the paparazzi caught you on a night out. You should have been with someone like Lando, someone who matched your energy but the second you made the jump to F1 and met Lance, you decided that you had to have him. 

He was quiet around you at first, always letting you do the talking and wondering why you wouldn't leave him alone. It took Fernando finally taking pity and enlightening him on the fact that you were definitely into him. The next time he saw you, he mentioned maybe grabbing something to eat, and the rest was history. He was your polar opposite in every single way, but it worked - he balanced you out perfectly. 

Tonight was the F1 75 launch event and you were dressed in a floor length navy dress posing next to Lance on the red carpet. The dress was definitely cut too low and the slit too high up your leg, but the way Lance’s eyes darkened when he saw you made it worth it. 

"You're going to kill me in that dress," Lance whispered against your ear as you posed for another photo, his hand resting possessively on your lower back.

The room sparkled with crystal chandeliers, the elite of Formula 1 mingling in designer suits and gowns.

You caught the stares immediately—the raised eyebrows, the whispers behind champagne flutes. Lance Stroll, heir to billions, with the paddock's wild child. Fernando winked at you from across the room while Charles and Pierre exchanged glances that screamed "how did that happen?"

"They're all looking at us," Lance murmured, his lips close to your ear.

"Let them look," you replied, grabbing two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handing one to him. "I like being the most interesting thing in the room."

Lance chuckled, that private laugh that only you could pull from him as he gazed down adoringly at you. You saw your teammate, Yuki, wave at you so you turned to Lance, promising him to be right back. 

Lance watched as you walked away, barely noticing as Lando came up to him. 

“To this day, I still don’t know how you bagged her,” Lando teased, shaking his head. Lance laughed, tearing his gaze away from you. 

“You and me both man,” he answered honestly. 

As you chatted with Yuki about setup changes for the upcoming season, you felt Lance's eyes on you from across the room. You caught his gaze and gave him a little wink, causing him to blush slightly. That shy reaction, even after months together, still made your heart skip.

"You two are disgusting," Yuki said, rolling his eyes but smiling. "Like, actually sickening."

"Jealousy isn't a good look on you," you teased, bumping his shoulder playfully.

Max sauntered over, champagne in hand. "The paddock's princess and the billionaire's son. You have to admit it's like something out of a Netflix series."

"Maybe they'll give us our own show," you quipped. 

Lance and Lando made there way towards your little group and you instantly moved into his side, leaning your head slightly into his chest. By now he was used to your insistent PDA, even though he personally didn’t care for it. 

“Did you know I asked y/n at least five times before you guys started dating?” Lando asked Lance, causing you to roll your eyes. Lance gave you an amused look, not taking Lando’s bait to get jealous. 

“I’m not surprised,” he said, tracing his finger along your waist. “She is the most beautiful driver by far.” 

“I think Charles might have me beat,” you said with a snort. “You’re too crazy Norris, it never would have worked.”

“I’m too crazy?” He said, shocked. “There are literally pictures of you skinny dipping last week in the press right now.” 

You shrugged, “Exactly. We would have caused the end of the world.” You looked back at Lance, your gaze softening. “I wanted calm.” 

Lance smiled, pulling you a little closer. “And I wanted chaos,” he admitted, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Guess we even each other out.”

Lando groaned, dramatically throwing his head back. “This is unbearable. I need another drink.”

Max smirked. “I think it’s sweet. Weird, but sweet.”

Yuki rolled his eyes. “It’s terrifying. Like watching a lion fall in love with a golden retriever.”

You laughed, leaning fully into Lance’s embrace. “If anything, he’s the golden retriever.”

Lance just shrugged, unconcerned with the commentary from your friends. “Doesn’t really matter what any of you think,” he said simply, his hand smoothing over the fabric of your dress. “She’s mine.”

The conversation stilled for a second, Lando pretending to gag while Max smirked in amusement, but you just tilted your chin up at Lance, a teasing smile on your lips. “That I am.”

For all the questioning glances, the whispered how did he pull that? remarks, Lance never wavered. He never let it get to him because at the end of the day, he was the one taking you home. And no amount of curiosity or speculation would change the fact that you were his, just as much as he was yours.

I’m cracking up at the thought of Oscar accidentally seeing a nude of his sister in Carlos’s phone

HELP I HAD TO ELABORATE ON THIS

read little bitch here

Hotel rooms are boring. There's nothing else to do other than lay in bed and shower.

You regret telling Carlos — because now he's your boyfriend, and you share hotel rooms with him, how wild — that you wanted to stay in bed all morning and not join him for practice sessions because now is nearly midday and he's not back yet. And you're bored.

Not finding anything else to do, you open your suitcase to put together your outfit for Quali tomorrow, you laugh when the first thing you see is a McLaren cap and a Ferrari one packed together. And to think that next year you'll be adding a Williams one to your suitcase for race weekends.

As you move a pair of jeans, you come into view with something you didn't even remember you packed — a red lacy set of lingerie.

You decide to put it on, after all, you don't have anything better to do.

Meanwhile at the Zandvoort Circuit, Oscar, Carlos, Lando and Max are lounging at a hospitality area. The sessions and meetings for the day were over, so they were just waiting for the call to head out.

"Lando, can I borrow your phone? Mine is dead and I want to check Lily's flight, it's supposed to land soon," Oscar says from his place on the couch.

"I can't mate, I'm sexting right now," Lando replies, making the group laugh and Oscar roll his eyes.

"Take mine, it's in the table," Carlos says, fixing himself a cup of coffee from the small station in the room.

"Thanks," Oscar grabs the device, failing when he tries to unlock it, "What's your pass code?"

"Your sister's birthday," Carlos says casually, stirring his coffee.

The room erupts in a chorus of groans and laughter.

"Oh my god, Carlos," Lando exclaims, barely containing his giggles. "That's so cheesy!"

"Seriously, mate?" Max joins in, "What are you, a teenager with his first crush?"

Oscar looks at Carlos with mock disgust on his face. "My sister's birthday? Really? I don't know whether to be touched or grossed out."

Carlos shrugs, a slight blush creeping up his neck. "What? It's easy to remember."

"Yeah, sure," Lando snorts. "I bet your wallpaper is a picture of you two as well."

Carlos doesn't respond, suddenly very interested in his coffee.

"Oh my god, it is!" Max howls with laughter. "You're such a sap, Sainz!"

Oscar shakes his head, chuckling. "I can't believe this. My sister's turned you into a lovesick puppy."

Just as Oscar is about to search for his girlfriend's flight information, a text notification pops up. Out of habit and muscle memory, he ends up tapping on it, opening the message.

Oscar's eyes widen, and he lets out a yelp, nearly dropping the phone. "Oh god, my eyes!" he exclaims, tossing the phone back to Carlos as if it were on fire.

The others look at him, confused and amused.

"What happened?" Lando asks, trying to peer at Carlos' phone.

Oscar covers his face with his hands, groaning. "I just saw something I really, really didn't need to see. Carlos, mate, you need to put a lock on those messages from my sister."

With a frown, Carlos opens his messages, tapping on your contact and finding what made Oscar scream in disgust.

A picture of you wearing the lacy red set, with the caption "we need to put these to good use before we throw all the ferrari red away"

Carlos glances at his phone, his eyes widening slightly before he quickly locks the screen. He clears his throat, trying to maintain his composure. "Ah, I see. Sorry about that, Oscar."

Oscar is still covering his eyes dramatically. "I'm going to need therapy after this. Seriously, Carlos, password protect those messages or something!"

"Come on, what was it?" Lando tries to sneak a peek at Carlos' phone. "It can't be that bad!"

"Trust me, you don't want to know," Oscar groans. "There are some things a brother should never see."

"Look on the bright side, at least you know your sister is happy?" Max pats Oscar on the back.

"Not helping, Verstappen!" Oscar throws a nearby cushion at Max, which only makes everyone laugh harder.

"Sorry, hermano. I'll be more careful next time," Carlos says, putting on an awkward smile.

"There better not be a next time," Oscar mumbles, still looking traumatized. "I'm going to need therapy after this."

Oscar makes a mental note to never, ever touch Carlos' phone again, and Carlos makes a mental note to lock his girlfriend's messages. And put those lacy red sets to good use later, too.

Carlos | December 8, 2024 / Abu Dhabi GP 2024 © Ferrari.com

❛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 ❜ p2 . . . charlie mayhew

INNOCENT!reader x PRIEST!charlie 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

PART 1

SUMMARY, after ignoring charlie for a week after the incident, he finally gets her close in the bathroom.

A/N, sorry i took way too long to make a p2. if you want a p3, leave some recommendations of what i should do for that part in my inbox bc i have no idea how to keep it going 😂 anyways, have fun reading, angels. 🪽🪽

WARNINGS, smuttyyyyy

Charlie had noticed the change immediately after their last conversation—the one where Maddy had admitted, with a tremble in her voice, that she had thought about him in ways she knew weren’t right. He had been shocked, then flattered, and finally, filled with guilt after everything. But what troubled him the most was her absence.

For a whole week, Maddy hadn’t spoken to him. She didn’t show up at mass, didn’t linger after church like she usually did. Every time he tried to reach out, she brushed him off with curt messages or avoided him entirely. She wasn’t just distant—she was actively ignoring him.

At first, Charlie tried to give her space, assuming that she needed time to process what had happened between them. But as the days passed, his concern grew. The gnawing guilt inside him—the feeling that maybe he had crossed a line, that maybe he had hurt her more than he realized—began to fester.

It wasn’t until late one evening, after most of the congregation had already left, that Charlie spotted her. Maddy, rushing down the hallway, her face flushed, disappeared into the restroom. The church was quiet, the echoes of footsteps fading, and Charlie hesitated for a moment before following her.

He knocked softly on the bathroom door. “Maddy?”

There was no response, but he heard a faint sniffle, the kind that comes after holding back tears for too long. Charlie’s heart clenched. He hesitated, not wanting to invade her space, but the sound of her pain pushed him forward.

“Maddy, please talk to me,” he said gently. “I know you’ve been avoiding me, but I can’t help you if you shut me out.”

There was a long pause, and then the door cracked open. Maddy stood there, her eyes red and puffy, but there was something hardened in her expression. She looked exhausted—not just physically, but emotionally.

“Why do you care so much, Charlie?” she asked, her voice thick with frustration and hurt. “I’m trying to keep my distance, like I’m supposed to. Isn’t that what you want?”

Charlie frowned, stepping closer. “What I want is to understand why you’ve been avoiding me. After everything we talked about, I thought we could work through this together, but you’ve been shutting me out completely.”

Maddy let out a bitter laugh, wiping at her eyes. “Work through this? Charlie, you don’t get it. I’m embarrassed. I told you something I never should have said, something unholy, we did something for which I will never be forgiven. And every time I look at you, I see the judgment in your eyes.”

Charlie’s breath caught in his throat, realizing the depth of her shame. “Maddy, no,” he said, stepping toward her, his voice softening. “There’s no judgment. I promise you that.”

“Then why does it feel like there’s a wall between us now?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Why did it feel like I crossed a line that I can’t uncross?”

Charlie closed his eyes, fighting the turmoil in his chest. He had wrestled with his own guilt all week, and now hearing hers, it was clear they were both lost in their own pain. He opened his eyes and met hers, his gaze steady.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he said softly. “What you told me… it was honest. I do not regret what we did together, i am not ashamed of it.”

She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face for any hint of dishonesty. When she didn’t find it, she exhaled slowly, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.

“So, why does it matter so much, Charlie? Why did we both make it feel like the end of the world?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Charlie ran a hand through his hair, taking a breath. “Because it’s hard, Maddy. It’s hard to admit that something’s there, something we both feel but can’t have. It’s hard because I want to help you through this, but I also… I’m fighting the same thoughts, the same distractions.” His confession hung in the air between them, heavy and real.

Maddy’s breath hitched, her eyes widening slightly. “You mean…?”

Charlie nodded, looking down. “I’m not immune to this. But I’m trying to stay strong for both of us. And ignoring me won’t make it go away. We have to figure out how to deal with this together.”

Maddy wiped at her eyes again, this time with less urgency, as if the weight of their shared secret had lightened slightly. “I don’t know how to make it stop,” she admitted, her voice small.

“Neither do I,” Charlie said quietly. “But I can help you, Angel.”

He stepped closer to her, trapping her exit from the restroom. His fingers interlocks with her hair as he pulls a strand behind her ear and grabbed her face and pulled her closer. “Tell me you don’t regret it, please” he says eagerly as he places his forehead on hers.

“Just Let me worship you”

Her head spins from the thousands of negative possibilities but her body just wants to surrender to him.

Without kissing her, he trailed his lips up her curve and exhaled till the heat tingled sensuously across her delicate skin. She closed her eyes, sensing his hands running up her sides over her white button-up blouse. He clasped his hands over the cloth, tracing a line up her hips and down the sides of her chest before finishing at the collar of the weightless material.

He made two hard fists out of the blouse collar and tore it open causing her to gasp in shock as the shirt split open to reveal her white lacy bra.

He turned to face her and grabbed her hips once again, the moment the door was locked. Before her thoughts could register, his lips dropped hungrily to her neck and her back collided with the wall. He brushed his teeth on her flesh right away, pressing his body against her while groaning.

Her hands instinctively gripped his hips, tossing her head to one side. They kissed for a long time, his sensual lips breathing heavily into her neck in between, making her eyes drift close. He thrust forward, bringing his hips to meet hers, offering whatever kind of pleasure he could. Her hands clenched around his hips over his pants, and she let out a sigh of pleasure.His hands trailed down her nude thighs, extending to her behind to seize it above the dress. He pulls her hips against his harder.

"I can't wait to take this dress off you." He graveled.

His words cause her core to ache and she arched her back further off the wall to feel his body against her even more. He takes the motion and decides to just pick her up instead. His hand reaches behind her thighs, where he raises her and surrounds her weak legs around his hips. Her back against the wall as their hips collided, she took a deep breath at the abrupt change.Now at eye level with her, he planted a kiss on her jaw and positioned himself between her legs. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she held him in place. She felt weak as a result of his forceful hip thrust between her legs.

She dug her hands into his hair and let out a cry through a pant. When she pulled it, he gave a grunt. He clamped down harder on her neck, and in response, she let out an uncontrollable whine.

He tightly clamped his teeth into a single area, creating such strong suction that she was certain it would leave a mark. She almost lost consciousness when she separated her lips in response to her aggressive action, arching her back. Feeling him rough on the pale skin, she reflexively jerked her hand to the back of his head. She got mild pain spikes with it, but other than that, it was enjoyable.

She pulled at the roots above his neck, and he whispered into her neck. She knew immediately that he enjoyed it when she yanked his hair. His moan provided the necessary stimulation between her legs. He drags out every motion so that she begs him to keep going.

With her bra and panties on, she arched her back, feeling the tight fit of his jeans pressing on her inner part. she could feel how hard he was becoming quickly, he was absolutely bottled up in those tight jeans. Suddenly, he sets her down on her two feet and goes on his knees. He lanced down at her stomach, licking his lower lip with his tongue before lowering his head to give her abdomen a moist kiss. Her whole body trembled at the light touch.

He reached her panties and raised his head, gazing up into her eyes all the way up her body. Grabbing the edges of her lace panties, he sits up between her legs and pulls it up off her hips and down her thighs right away. She tensed slightly as he took off the final piece of material covering her body. She raised her legs into the air and he pulled the thin material away from her ankles.

He tossed the last piece of clothing to the floor, leaving her completely vulnerable. “Now, you’re gonna be a good girl and stay quiet. we don’t want anyone to hear you”

Just by feeling his tongue running up her center, her stomach lurched and her entire body flexed. He forced his mouth against her tightly and rolled his tongue straight to the cluster of nerves before she could even begin to grasp the strange sensation of his sharp tongue sliding up her slit. "Charlie-" her back curved off the wall before she could even complete her statement.

Without holding back, he went straight into her clit with a wonderful rhythmic roll of his tongue. Her eyes narrowed as she closed them.

Her hips twitched with the intensity of this wild new feeling right away. "Charlie, oh my god," she said, rolling her eyes inside her head. He maintained a death grip on her thighs, keeping them forced open to give him complete access to enjoy her in any way he pleased. She was unable to regulate her sensitivity, and it would make her body twitch.

His wet tongue rolled in the perfect place at different rhythms and at a steady pace, making her experience things She have never felt in her entire life. He just started, and she was unable to catch her breath.Her hands would be death grasping his thick hair right now if she could control them.

He placed her legs over his shoulders, reaching lower and squeezing a firm grasp around her outer thighs and hip bones. With a deep inhale through his nose, he caressed her with his tongue, sending a surge of ecstasy up her neck and into her veins. With a moan, she chokes and throws back her head, putting her legs across his long back.

She wasn't prepared for the kind of pleasure he gave her when he slid his lengthy tongue inside of her and ran it down. He was an expert at what he was doing and was doing it very well. Then the knot in her stomach turned to give her trembling thighs. Before returning to her clit, which she could now feel pulsating, he slid his tongue in and out of her a few times. The pressure burning inside of her intensified as soon as he made touch with it once more.

She flinches and draws in a short breath as he flicks the tip of his tongue up and down on the bundle of nerves. "I need it so bad.. charlie..." She could not be silent in the room; she was a mess of heavy pants. She was unable to stop herself from breathing heavily and was always accompanied by whimpers and whines that were concealed in the back of her throat.

He looks down between them, his ring and middle fingers digging deep into her. He instantly coiled and shoved them at the same moment, making her gasp. She was taken aback by the furious action. He was panting as well, so she arched her back and let out a whimper into the thick air. The two fingers he didn't have rings on, his fingers rocked into her mercilessly.

She let out a cry, tightly clenching her eyelids and contorting her hips. He coiled up and compressed his fingers, striking a sensitive area within her which she had no idea contained so many nerve endings."You're so fucking tight-" In his deep voice, he whispered.

Her legs trembled as she yelled out, “please." "Does that feel good?" He rasps into the burning air while simultaneously caressing her clit with his fingers. Shutting her eyes tightly, she gave a nod. Her stomach felt like it was about to burst; there were no words to express the feelings she was experiencing.

"Do you feel that knot in your stomach, Angel?" He whispered, reading her thoughts.

She groaned and nodded once more, her chest heaving in a need for breath. "Use your words." More forcefully, he remarks, It was so difficult to focus on anything other than the euphoric rush coursing through her blood. “Y-yes." was her stutter.

"I'm adding a third." Before striking a third finger into her, he muttered. She let out a gasp as he pushed past the line, his third finger descending in unison with the other two. She let out a cry, her back automatically arching off the wall.

"Oh my god!" The pressure between her hips immediately increased as the third finger was thrust in, causing her to cry. her body came out in another sweat, her hips suddenly having a mind of their own when they bucked.

He glanced up at her face, saw how shaken she was getting, her legs trembling with her inability to remain silent. He pulled his hand away from her clit and instead brought it up to cover her lips because she was extremely loud. When the build started to get more tense, he began to shove his three fingers deep into her.

"Everyone is right next door." He smirks.

"You can yell into my hand."

With her eyes squeezed shut, she yelled into his big palm that was placed across her mouth. Her back continued to arch off the wall as the condition grew progressively deeper. She felt as though she were on a cloud and was at a loss for words regarding what was occurring to her body.

"Cum for me baby-" He encouraged, drawing his eyes into hers. He knew she was close.

She whimpered into his fingers, her body's gears shifting like a moving train. Her thighs trembled as though she was freezing, her stomach was drawn in, and her chest pumped fiercely. She kept screaming into his palm at the crushing strain that was killing her, and his fingers kept jamming into the same area.

Her entire body was tight; she was too weak to continue in this state for very long. She let out his muffled name in a scream and then abruptly stopped moving. Everything—shaking, arching, breathing—stopped abruptly.

She undid herself on his fingers. She moans at the feeling of emptiness as he pulls away. He puts a kiss on her forehead and adds, "I knew you would be such a good girl for me." She was still trembling from what had happened, so he gently placed her clothing and underwear on her.

She slid to the floor, tears spilling down her cheeks. The shame she felt was suffocating, wrapping itself around her until she could barely breathe.

“Maddy,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

She shook her head, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry,” she choked out, her voice broken. “I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know why i’m crying”

Charlie was kneeling beside her before she could finish, his hands gentle as he reached for her. “Maddy, stop,” he murmured. “You don’t have to apologize”

She shook her head, tears still spilling down her cheeks. “It feels wrong, Charlie. All of this. I feel guilty for even wanting this.”

Charlie sighed, brushing a strand of her hair away from her face. “I know. I feel it too. But guilt isn’t going to help either of us right now. We need to be honest with ourselves about what’s happening, and we need to figure out how to move forward.”

Charlie’s thumb gently wiped away one of her tears, his touch comforting but careful.

Maddy closed her eyes, leaning into his touch, even though part of her knew they shouldn’t be this close. But in this moment, she needed the comfort, the reassurance that she wasn’t alone in this guilt. That they would find a way through it, together.

Hey there! Hope you're having a good day! If you don't mind, could I please request non-native english speakers (alejandro, rudy, makarov, konig, and any other ones you want) reactions to their s/o surprising them by reciting their wedding vows in their native language? Alejandro's s/o saying her vows in spanish, makarov's s/o saying them in russian, etc. Thanks so much!

this is a really good idea! thx for suggesting it <3

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Saying Your Vows In Their Native Language

𑣲 Alejandro, Rudy, Makarov, König, Horangi, Nikto

𑣿 Alejandro would have dropped to his knees and asked you to marry him if you weren't already getting married. He had heard you speak a few words in Spanish here and there but never full on confidently speaking it from your heart. He wanted to embrace you, but knew you'd lose your concentration and he really wanted to hear everything you had to say. So he tried his best to hold back, and just smile as he gazed at you lovingly. The man couldn't find what to do with himself, he was already head over heels, anymore and he might have been considered a madman. The things love made him do, such fiery passion within him that with the smallest of your actions could make him act as if unbridled. After you finished, he glanced at the audience, looking at them as if wanting them to see the type of person he was marrying. He wanted to show you off to the world, and he truly felt like he triumphed that day as he placed the ring on your finger.

𑣿 Rudy got lost in your eyes, hearing you speak Spanish. It made it all so much more meaningful that you had gone as far as to not only learn his language but to recite the words from memory. Halfway through, he just couldn't help but to reach out and cup your cheek, and you had use all your inner strength to not choke up and start crying uncontrollably from how much you loved this man. The onlookers in the crowd were moved as well, most using tissues to dab their eyes. It was a beautiful moment and luckily enough, it was caught on camera too. This moment made Rudy wonder what he had done to deserve you, surely you'd break the man with your gestures of affections, and this was only the beginning. He couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life with you, vowing to make you feel the same.

𑣿 Makarov is not usually a sentimental man, he rarely lets emotion take the greater charge of decision within his mind, especially in front of others. It was only in the utmost secrecy that he had met and loved you, and it was that way he had learned to keep things to a minimal. He didn't require effort from you, because he was always seeking to do more for you. He never imagined something that seemed insignificant to others, but knowing how much effort you had put in, would move him so much. In his heart, he had resigned to feel as little as possible, yet, you had somehow found and tugged at the still tender heartstrings. He felt it blossoming in his chest, the flower that you had so gingerly tended to, cared for with your amour and time. It was hard for him to keep his composure, but so ardently did he feel a flame burn in his chest. Who could have known he'd feel this one day?

𑣿 König faltered, thinking he had misheard your words. You weren't speaking German, were you? He hardly believed it, and couldn't get over it that he didn't really listen to the meaning of your words. If asked, he couldn't remember exactly what you had said, he could only tell of the emotions he'd felt in that moment, some that he couldn't even identify. His heart raced and he simply looked at you in awe, with soft hints of adoration in his eyes. He would hold this memory dearly, just as much as he wanted to hold you. You looked angelic in your wedding attire, like a blessing he cradled in his hands, one he vowed to never forget to care for. Oh and when you smiled at him after concluding, he could have melted from seeing your eyes flicker up at him. He loved how you talked to him, looked at him, touched him, kissed him and he'd spend an eternity wanting to make you feel the same way about him and even then never feel like it was enough.

𑣿 Horangi had certainly not expected it. You never gave an indication of you studying Korean, you had been interested in the language but the grammar had quickly discouraged you from advancing and he assumed you had left it at that. Unbeknownst to him, you had even hired a teacher to help you get through the difficult parts of writing your vows. You wanted to show how much he meant to you, you worked on it day and night and didn't stop until you were satisfied with how it sounded. You knew exactly what to say that would touch his heart and mean the most to him. Horangi couldn't have imagined a more perfect moment than this one. Those words permanently marked in his mind for the rest of his life, forever hearing you speak in his tongue. He wished to be alone with you, none of the others there deserved to be there to hear words that were only meant for him.

𑣿 Nikto had no problem with the fact that you didn't speak Russian, he understood English well and was able to communicate just fine. He had caught you studying Russian a few times, trying your best to pronounce the words to form sentences, and he had only smirked, amused at your attempts. When you explained that it was because you wanted to be able to communicate better, to be able to tell him in his mother tongue how much you loved him, he only laughed it off. He thought it was silly, he understood your feelings and intentions just fine in English. But he was unprepared to hear how fluently the words rolled off your tongue at the altar. Nikto had underestimated how impactful it would feel to hear you talk to him in a language he knew so well. Just hearing you speak in Russian was already hitting him in his soft spot, not imagine when he got over his initial shock and actually tried hard to listen to what you were trying to say.

i wish you would love me (CS55)

✰ carlos sainz x verstappen!reader ✰

summary → he would do anything to get you to love him, but he can only watch from the sidelines as you fall in love with his teammate.

genre → angst angst angst (im not sorry), self-indulgent, drabble

word count → 1.5k words

author's note → hello! this is my first iteration of breaking your heart with carlos sainz!!!!!! this is also my first time writing him so i'm sorry if things are a lil ooc, i haven't followed him as much as i do with CL16 & MV33.

carlos had always stole glances, whether he liked to admit it or not. some were lingering, but most of them were fast, quick, not wanting to linger long in case someone would catch him staring, he had grown fond of you.

you were the princess of the paddock, that was your title. some might even say that you're the queen of the paddock but you always denied the nickname, it was a silly nickname that your fans had given you and you didn't particularly feel like claiming it.

but carlos knew that you were indeed a princess, maybe the queen of his heart. he knew that with each second passing, he would slowly fall in love with you, maybe he already was. maybe he just didn't want to admit it to himself, much like the glances he stole.

you were the three time world champion's little sister and that meant that automatically by default, carlos was around you a lot. whether it was max's karting days and you attended his races, or him being on the formula one grid and you attending those races.

it didn't matter to carlos.

you were always nice to him, always smiling, always touchy but it didn't matter as you were touchy with everyone and that made carlos want to die on the inside.

why did you have to touch everyone so casually? why did you have to touch him and why did he feel like he was on top of the world when you did?

"carlos?" you soft voice had broken him out of his train of thought, he looks up to see you. your beautiful self standing in front of him, almost gracing him with your presence, "are you okay? you seem out of it."

"yeah, i'm alright. how are you doing, hermosa?" carlos' heart would not stop beating out of his chest, being in close proximity of you made his heart beat that way. you giggle and wave your hands in front of you, almost as if you were rejecting the small compliment that he gave you.

he found it cute, that you would always reject his compliments that way, whether intentional or not.

you scrunched your face up and rolled your eyes playfully, "you always flatter me with your nicknames, carlos," you giggled further and he stood up from where he was leaning against the wall, "i was going to ask you if you were coming to dinner tonight? you know, the ferrari one?"

carlos raised his eyebrow, how would you know about the ferrari dinner?

"yeah, of course. i am a ferrari driver afterall, aren't i?" carlos teased before you smile and laugh, carlos felt like his heart was going to fall out of his chest by how fast it was beating. you were near him and willing to talk to him, even though it was as simple as asking about a stupid dinner.

"yeah, i was wondering whether you'd come or not. charles invited me to the dinner just last night," your eye-smiles shone bright, even when you didn't mean them to. a pang strikes through carlos' chest, what do you mean by charles invited you?

"charles invited you? since when were you close to charles?" carlos asked, his eyebrow raised again as you were shifting feet to feet, carlos could tell that you were nervous by the question he asked, but you decided to come out clean anyway.

"me and charles have been... seeing eachother so i've been getting invited around ferrari events a lot."

maybe that was the day carlos' heart broke.

seeing you around his side of the paddock was nice, the way you smiled, the way you cheered the team on, it was exciting for carlos. he would be able to see you more often now, ever since you published your relationship with charles.

maybe he should've expected it. maybe he didn't notice it.

while he was stealing glances at you, you were stealing glances at his teammate and that stung like a little bitch.

you were always all smiles, always lovely, always polite, always touchy, and somehow he hated it. he hated the way you touched him— hated the way you touched charles.

your arms wrapped around charles' neck, holding him close as the two of you were captured kissing as charles took his win, he came second. always second best. never good enough. never good enough to win you over. never fast enough to see the signs.

he wanted you to come over to him, run up and kiss him the exact way you kissed charles, why did it have to be his teammate out of all people? why the one person that he constantly had to spend time with, whether willingly or unwillingly?

the love he had for his teammate was slowly becoming resent, becoming something he would never feel for his teammate naturally.

it sucked.

"carlos—"

"not now cha," carlos had brushed him off as he packed up his belongings from the garage, all he wanted to do was get home and sit with himself and his feelings.

"but it's important—"

"i said not now," carlos' tone was delivered with finality, which made charles stop in his tracks, not speaking another word. he was scared to, scared that he would piss off carlos more than he was right now.

what hurt the most for carlos was that he had talked about you to him multiple times, his eyes always animated when he talked about you and charles knew, he knew how much you meant to carlos but charles didn't catch on or maybe he didn't care.

"did i do something wrong?" charles asked, he was behind carlos and his shoulder tensed up when charles asked him the stupid question, carlos felt like he wanted to punch something at the moment and right now, preferably the handsome leclerc that stood behind him.

of course he did something wrong, he stole the love of carlos' life and carlos hated him for it. why did he have to do it? why did he have to take away something that made him happy? wasn't him getting kicked out of ferrari enough for charles?

why did everything have to go his way?

"it's nothing, i'm just upset about my performance today, that's all," carlos turned around to look at charles, he was starting to realize that it wasn't charles' fault. charles did nothing wrong.

the universe just hated him.

carlos had to sit in those painful dinners with ferrari, if it wasn't mandatory for him to come, he would've never showed up in the first place. he hated having to sit there and play nice, to sit there and watch you whisper into charles' ear and when he would whisper something back in your ear and then you would giggle, to sit there and to watch the love of his life slip away from his fingers.

he knew that you never held the same type of feelings that he harbored towards you, you would always be nice and polite but that was it, and maybe he took it the wrong way. it didn't matter to him now, all that mattered was you stole his heart and there was no way you were going to give it back.

with the months watching painfully from the sidelines, watching you fall in love with his teammate, you had an announcement to make tonight.

"hello everyone! thank you for coming to tonight's dinner," you had started, you looked beautiful tonight. afterall, you would always be his hermosa in his heart, "i just wanted to announce me and charles' engagement!"

charles stood up alongside with you and smiled, wrapping an arm that carlos wished were his, holding you close with a kiss on your temple.

claps erupted around the table and carlos was the only one not clapping along with the crowd.

if it wasn't possible before, carlos' heart broke for the second time tonight.

if it wasn't bad enough that charles picked carlos to be his bestman, it was the worst when he had to stand there and watch you be led along the aisle, arm hooked with jos verstappen and walking towards charles.

and yet again, he was watching from the sidelines. never the main character in your story, but always a secondary or maybe a step-in.

your smile was so bright, you looked so happy.

he wished you looked at him the same way you looked at charles.

as you finished your vows, tears escaped from carlos' eyes, not because he was happy for his teammate, not because he was happy for you but because he was upset that it wasn't him that you were marrying today. he couldn't bare to stay and watch any further after the vows, choosing to step out of the cathedral that you were getting married to charles at.

carlos was not the same man that he was before he stepped into that cathedral that day, and maybe it was for the worst.

Hi I hope you're doing well! Anyways, how do you think the four boys (Dwayne, David, Marko, Paul) would react if we just ran away, like went to our friends house and refused to come back to the cave? Also what punishments do they give, like after we ran away and in general? Also sorry if my grammer is bad English isn't my first language, anyways have a good day/night!

Running away headcannons

Platonic Yandere lost boys x reader

Notes- Hey I’m doing great thanks! Your English is very good- I couldn’t tell you weren’t a native speaker :)

Warnings- Choking, Yandere behaviour, Confinement, Psychological abuse, Dehumanisation

• I think it’s safe to say all four of your fathers would be absolutely LIVID if you ran away.

• They genuinely don’t understand why you would even think to do something so senseless. After all, it was them who saved you from your biological family when you first moved to Santa Carla.

• Not only that, but you had also stolen Dwayne’s bike (his being the obvious choice, as you spent the most time on it).

• They discovered your absence a few hours after you had snuck out, but couldn’t go after you due to the burning rays of the July sun.

• Meanwhile, you had found yourself at Bethany’s house. She knew enough about your parents to gladly let you stay as long as you need, despite your warnings about how dangerous they are.

• Coming back to the boys, I think their individual reactions would vary. Dwayne would be more worried than pissed off. The thought of his baby girl being out there alone without their protection fills him with this hopeless dread. He’s not even mad about the bike because he’s so scared that you’ve crashed somewhere and are lying under a mangled pile of metal, injured and alone.

• Marko is also terrified for you. As I’ve said before, he’s in denial about you growing up, so he won’t even entertain the idea that you might be able to look after yourself. He’s not used to being afraid. Out of everyone in the pack it’s generally agreed that Marko is the most sadistic and violent when it comes to preying on humans. He thrives off of scaring people (you included) so the fact that you are scaring him makes him angry.

• He finds himself pacing the cave, eyes shining a brilliant yellow and fangs on display as he pictures the moment they find you. David eventually has to tell him to knock it off or he’ll tire himself out before nightfall.

• Speaking of David, I think that out of everyone he’d be the least panicky. That’s not to say he isn’t worried about you, but he understands you better than the others do. He knows that it takes careful planning to pull off a stunt like this, and you aren’t stupid enough to get yourself caught up in anything too dangerous.

• This stems from the fact that David’s obsession with you doesn’t come from a deep rooted paternal desire like it does for the others. Sure, he loves you as his daughter and feels a strong sense of pride that they were the ones to mould you into who you are today, but it’s more complicated than that.

• The more you grow, the more he sees himself and the others within you, but beneath all that is someone else. A small fragment of a broken child waiting to spiral into something else. That’s what intrigues him. That hidden part of you locked behind years of painful love and comforting abuse.

• Paul’s reaction is a lot simpler than David’s. He feels guilty that their previous argument with you has led to you doing something so drastic. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, he just doesn’t trust all the creepy men around that could hurt you.

• I don’t think he’d be on the verge of a complete meltdown like Dwayne and Marko, but he’d definitely be on edge, with a million different scenarios playing out through his head.

• Once the sun is finally down, it wouldn’t take them long to find you. You weren’t stupid enough to leave Dwayne’s bike right outside Bethany’s house, but it was still close enough for your fathers to track you down with relative ease.

• The only problem they faced was actually getting to you. Vampires have to be invited inside, and there was no way Bethany’s mother was going to let in a group of leather clad punks demanding to see their fifteen year old daughter.

• So naturally, they went to Max and begged asked him to politely introduce himself as your uncle and bring you home.

• Of course, with his charming nature Max had no problem getting invited into Bethany’s home.

• In all fairness, he didn’t lie. Sure, he had left out the part where Marko choked you until you were on the verge of passing out, but nothing he did say was untrue. It was more just a careful avoidance of certain details.

• You knew you were in deep shit when you came downstairs for dinner and saw your uncle sat at the table with a plate of lasagne of his own.

• It was an awkward dinner, well for you at least. Beth’s mum seemed pretty into Max, and he clearly loved the attention.

• Once the meal was over, Max announced that he would be taking you home, his tone stern- a subtle warning for you not to argue.

• So you didn’t argue. At least, not until you were out of Bethany’s house.

• As soon as her door clicked shut you bolted.

• It was a stupid idea really. Max’s car was parked right outside the driveway, so even if you did manage to get away from him, he’d easily be able to chase you down in the vehicle.

• It wasn’t Max who caught you though. In fact, he made little effort to chase you as you ran.

• That didn’t strike you as odd until the street you were sprinting down was suddenly lit by a harsh white light.

• For a moment you thought it was a car speeding towards you, but as your eyes adjusted it became clear that there were three beams of light, not two.

• Your fathers had been waiting round the corner for you and Max.

• You, being a stubborn teenager, didn’t stop running. You ignored the aggressive revving of their engines and legged it down the road.

• The gleaming headlights honed in on you, allowing no darkness to conceal your desperate escape.

• Their bikes almost seemed to leap forwards after you, as if they were an extension of your fathers, feeding from their obsessions.

• It only took a matter of seconds for them to catch up to you, even after you veered from the road and tried to make a break for the forest at the end of the street.

• They had you surrounded in an instant. David in front, Marko to your right and Dwayne and Paul sharing a bike to your left.

• Perhaps you would have found the sight amusing if it wasn’t for that look in their eyes.

• This must have been what it felt like to be a deer. Trapped under the gazes of four hungry wolves, with your only advantage being your primal fear of being dragged back to the cave- something that you knew would be your inevitable fate.

• Despite the futility of the situation, you still tried to break past them, spinning on your heel and dashing to the gap between Marko and David’s bikes.

• For a fleeting second you truly believed you had succeeded in getting past them, but then a hand snared in the neck of your top and yanked you back.

• The force of it pulled you to the ground, where you lay momentarily stunned, choking for air.

• David was quick the dismount his bike, crouching over where you lay on the sidewalk.

• There was nothing you could do except stare up at him, dazed as he pulled you to your feet and forced you onto the back of his bike.

• They didn’t speak to you on the ride back, only stopping once to pick up Dwayne’s discarded bike (after you’d been forced to hand over the keys).

• The only conversation was between Marko and Paul, who seemed almost giddy to return to the cave. You expected that from Marko, always the sadist, but Paul? That stung a little. You supposed he was just feeding off of his mate’s energy.

• David was clearly pissed off. You were surprised he hadn’t berated you yet, but it seemed as though he was waiting to get home for your punishment.

• As for Dwayne, you could tell he was deeply disappointed that you had even wanted to leave them, let alone actually do it.

• When it comes to punishments, David is usually in charge. He’s the leader of the pack and therefore creates the rules and enforces them the most out of everyone.

• The only exception being when Marko occasionally decides to make a new rule without telling any of the others so when you inevitably break it, he punishes you.

• There was a lot of debate between them about what the punishment for running away should be.

• Dwayne was more inclined to taking away certain privileges. No trips to the boardwalk, no choice in what you get to eat, no visiting Uncle Max and Thorn, etc.

• Marko would rather just break your legs. It solves the issue of you running away in the future and makes you completely dependent on them, solidifying how much you need your fathers to help you.

• In the end though, David gets the final call. He decided that if you don’t want to be around them then fine, but it won’t be in your terms.

• They left you chained up like a dog in a secluded part of the cave- far from where your fathers would be spending much of their time.

• You were left there for two months, only seeing David once a day when he brought you a bottle of water and a ham sandwich.

• Being treated like an animal slowly chips away at your sanity. David’s silent glare and the bland flavours of your basic meal are the only markers of the time spend in the darkness.

• The chain around your ankle feels heavier the longer you’re there. Your weight loss making you weaker by the day as you almost forget that Dwayne, Marko and Paul must be somewhere in the cave as well.

• You wondered if they thought about you as little as you thought about them.

• It felt like years before David finally brought a key along with your meagre meal.

• He watched silently as you ate your sandwich. You kept your gaze averted, staring at those cold leather boots as you chewed your way through the stale bread.

• “Not in the mood for talkin’ huh?”

• David twisted the keys around between his fingers. Your silence wasn’t much of a surprise to him, after all it had been a whole two months since you had spoken to him or your other fathers. He briefly wondered if you’d been talking to yourself to cope with the loneliness.

• How much damage could enough isolation do to a person?

• The chain unlocked with a small click, but you still made no effort to move.

• David sighed and cupped your cheek, guiding you to look at him. “You’re free now, punishment’s over. Cmon, the others have missed you.”

• You let him help you stand up- something you hadn’t done it a long time.

• David guided you back to the main area where Dwayne, Marko and Paul waited restlessly to see you again.

• Dwayne was the first to rush over to you, enveloping you in a big hug. You didn’t return it. It was hard to feel anything but the cold chill that still remained after those two long months.

• Your fathers were quick to wrap you in a thick blanket and curl up on the couch. Marko was practically spoon feeding you the bolognaise they had prepared earlier that day, but you hardly noticed.

• No one admitted it out loud, but it was clear that your isolation had scarred you a lot worse than a pair of broken legs from Marko would’ve.

• They were going to need to put in a lot of work to get you back.

Tag list- @bella-goths-wife @purple-lemon-8 @xjesterxjacksx @ursinaw @simplyreading96 @lostbetweenvampiresandmusic

(If anyone else wants to be added to the tag list then lmk!)

okay but imagine this . . .

you get hired to babysit manny for the night—just manny, susan assures you—but as soon as you walk through the door, it’s clear you’ve inherited all three heffley boys.

greg follows you like around like a puppy. he talks nonstop about how middle school is full of “juvenile morons” and how people say he’s “wise beyond his years” (no one has ever said that). he keeps trying to bring up high school drama he barely understands.

rodrick clearly didn’t know you were coming, because when he sees you, he immediately vanishes upstairs. a few minutes later, he reappears—wearing heavy eyeliner and smelling like half a can of axe. (“oh, didn’t know you were here tonight,”) he orders pizza, leans over the back of the couch and tries to impress you by talking about his band.

manny is barely a factor. (greg handed over a sleeve of cookies and let him play with his gameboy in exchange)

when susan and frank finally get home, the house is unusually quiet and suspiciously tidy. manny’s already in bed, and greg is wiping down the counter. rodrick, of all things, is vacuuming the living room. frank stands in the doorway, eyeing his sons like he’s trying to figure out if they’ve been replaced by aliens.

susan thanks you with a smile, handing you your payment, and the boys? they’re already plotting to make sure you come back next week.