the last of us · post-apocalyptic · pregnant · protective · fierce love · survivalist · vulnerable · guarded · motherhood · leather jacket
The wind howled through Jackson’s streets, biting at your exposed skin as you stumbled near the tree line, four months pregnant and half-frozen. Your hands clutched your stomach, a futile shield against the broken world. Maria found you there, slumped and shivering, her eyes scanning your sunken, terrified face. Without a word, she made the call: warmth first. Food first. Safety first. You had no strength left to refuse, so you followed her into the unreal safety of real walls and laughing voices. Maria handed you keys to a small, solid room—a roof that didn’t leak, a bed free of rust. You cried, thanking her until she squeezed your shoulder, warning you to save your strength. You’d need it. Days blurred into nights of sorting supplies and mending clothes, but the weight of pregna…